#sorry for answering this so late >_< was waiting for an opportunity to sit down and give it my undivided attention

[brzatto]

Okay the anon mentioning that thing about Mikey leaving Carmy the beef and in a way leaving Richie to Carmy IS FANTASTIC

This fucker really said these two idiots will only survive if I force them together.

Also I feel like Richie is dying to take care of someone in a way? Like, he was really good with Tiff and he wants to be a good dad so bad. And then his dead best friend said heard and just shoves this chaotic, broken, mess of a little brother into his arms with no direction or further guidance. And he grew up with this kid right? He saw all the awkward phases and knows him better than most of his family even though it was probably more of an annoyance than genuinely wanting to know.

So he, on a super base level, probably knows Carmy enough to be surprisingly good at keep him alive and healthy?

Mikey gave Richie the human equivalent of a depressed house plant and he's actually doing a decent job at keeping Carmy it alive.

Also

Also

Along this same train of thought, what would Nat and Donna do once they realize Richie and Carmy may be a little closer than they realized? I think Nat would give a fierce shovel talk to Richie and then hug him for a really long time. What about Donna? She's already fucking nuts. I kinda want to explore the idea of her snarling something about Carmy always trying to be Mikey but I also like the idea of her thinking they can support each other better than she ever did.

And I feel like it's just glazed over but the trauma of being in that fucking house? Like Richie's dad wasn't around right? I would argue that's almost better than whatever the fuck Donna was doing.

There's so much to explore there. Add in the stuff while Carmy was away with the fuck face chef and oh Lord this boy needs help.

Do I think Carmy is in a place like Mikey was? No, but not taking care of yourself is a form of self harm and that boy does not even know how to spell self care.

I feel like Richie would better understand and be very aware of those things. They're always yelling at each other but Carmy usually has like a meltdown of some type after. Maybe Carmy hates when someone's close behind him in the kitchen because it makes him think of fuck face chef. Richie clocking in on that and going out of his way to discreetly move people around Carmy quick or to place himself between Carmy and someone else if they have to be behind him. Because if Carmy would let anyone see all the little, broken, scared parts of him it would be Richie.

And possessive, protective Richie who picks up on all these little flinches, self deprecating remarks, the lack of self care, or general depression and putting all the pieces into a picture that he does not like. I think he'd pick it all up and make sure anything that may trigger Carmy is taken care of, within reason, and subtly do things to help or make things easier, all while Carmy is oblivious but also realizing he isn't as stressed as he usually is. And Richie seems very pleased with himself lately.

**I rambled again, sorry. I just love actually having someone to talk to about this pairing ♥️

you’re correct! something that really irked me before s2 came out was the mass richie misinterpretation where everyone thought he was fundamentally a bad person with a few good moments/interactions as opposed to vice versa. the way richie treats carmy is a testament to their closeness but also probably to how estranged they became since carmy left home, when we’re introduced to richie in the pilot he’s visibly very warm and friendly with everyone else in the kitchen (except for fak and syd who are outsiders that carmy chooses to bring in) and is seen being openly affectionate, kissing tina hugging marcus etc etc. richie takes good care of those he cares about and i’m so glad they gave us a glimpse into his dynamic with tiff while she was pregnant because richie was soooooo (biting my fist) i’ve never doubted for a second that he genuinely loved her and i’m glad they showed us them being happy and sweet rather than the deteriorated version of their relationship that probably came after eva was born/mikey’s addiction got worse.

i feel like growing up carmy was relatively sheltered in a way? probably naturally shy and quiet and introverted even when he was younger and in spite of all the chaos in his family i really feel like he was spoiled lol or at least comparatively. especially with the comment richie made to sydney about always being nagged about being careful with carmy i can see nat and mikey both being really protective of him. in opposition richie was definitely the one who’d tease and antagonize him the most but he still clearly had that sense of responsibility drilled into him back then because we can see how instinctual his protectiveness is with carmy even now. i’m still trying to decide what his relationship and dynamic with donna was like when he was younger because in fishes we see him successfully placating her when nat couldn’t, i can’t tell if she’s always favored carmy just for being the youngest or if mikey and nat had to shield him from the brunt of her dysfunctionality growing up or maybe even if she was more stable when he was younger and then her mental health deteriorated/behavior became increasingly more erratic over time?

richie’s a person who naturally receives gratification from doing things for others and feeling useful/needed and that probably manifests itself in a much more competitive/spiteful way with carmy because his feelings towards him are just Like That and carmy is also bad at thanking (not other people just richie specifically) him so it’s not quite as transactional as his dynamic with, for example, tiff where he does things for her and is directly rewarded with affection/praise/seeing her happy. i think at first richie just likes the idea of carmy, who he always knew as just some snot nosed loser and is now a well established name in a competitive and high end industry, still being incompetent in some facets and having to depend on richie for something (even if carmy would NEVER ask for his help first or even admit his dependency), likes the idea of having it to hang over his head etc etc (or at least this is how he justifies it to himself) and then with time it gradually morphs back into a Normal relationship where they’re willing to accept that richie takes care of carmy because he cares about him and carmy accepts it because he also cares about him but because they’re them and they’re difficult we have to go the long way around. this is the plot of bcm essentially

lol for sugar and donna’s reactions i think you summed up my own feelings pretty well. i do have a wip fic that sort of includes how that would go with sugar, but in it they actually don’t tell her about “being together” at all (because they do NOT think of themselves as “being together”) and she finds out herself after carmy has been unofficially living with richie for like the past however many months and is understandably pissed. it’s supposed to be a more lighthearted fic so there’s no seriousness to it but i think having known for richie for so long she’s already intimately familiar with all his loser scumbag asshole tendencies as well as carmy’s bullheadedness and notoriously bad decision making but she also knows richie’s good at heart and carmy needs someone like him in his life. especially in light of richie’s apology to her in s2 and effectively amending their relationship (which meant SO much to me) genuinely i can only see her being mad over them not telling her about it rather than anything else. also i love the implication that mikey and richie were also romantically involved before at some point too and donna weaponizing that… when i choose to incorporate past richie/mikey in my carmrich plots the notion that richie is just another one of mikey’s hand me downs or that carmy is simply mikey’s fill in for richie is always one of carmy’s biggest insecurities and i can’t quite decide if donna would be cruel enough to weaponize that against carmy specifically but the thought has delectable angst potential. your mind

i think about richie’s family life a lot like goodness what was going ON in the jerimovich household that donna berzatto could’ve possibly been the better alternative… in reality i think richie’s mother actually just wasn’t present at all, like i think she probably either died or left when he was a child but since sydney’s mother also passed away when she was young and i doubt they’d repeat that plotline for richie i’m guessing it’s the latter. his father also probably wasn’t around very much because of service, but when he was he was probably a dick because he was a cishet (vine boom) white man (vine boom) in the military (VINE BOOM)

and actually it’s funny that you say that because to me i think carmy would definitely have his own vices, like obviously we see his smoking habit but a personal hc of mine i’ve always had for him even before s2 came out is that he has a bad relationship with alcohol—not to the point of addiction or anything like that but i think he probably abused it a little to cope with mikey shutting him out and stopped once it posed the risk of interfering with his work. if you happen to remember in ch2 of bcm there’s a line where carmy mentions richie knowing carmy doesn’t drink—there’s a reason why and that’ll get expanded on in future chapters! but yeah carmy’s form of self harm definitely manifests itself as self neglect. i’ve seen a lot of people write him with an ed but i don’t necessarily think he has one or that his relationship with food is tainted per se i think his eating habits just reflect his own self negligence. carmy definitely is on his way to developing gastritis if he doesn’t have it already

and this is such a sweet scenario for them i love this >_< anything with richie being attentive, considerate, thoughtful, gentle, tender etc etc i am seated immediately… like sometimes i read my own writing and feel like i’m projecting because i want him so unspeakably badly. always nice to see you in my inbox thank you for this anon 🤍

[jjunieworld]

ˋ🧾 ‎⸝⸝⸝ interview with the rockstars

hehe this one is for @ghstzzn and @silvergyus (´▽`ʃƪ)♡ these elle korea pictures sent me into an absolute frenzy, i just had to write something about it!! hehe so enjoy this quick intermission ^^

𝔀arnings ⦂ nsfw minors dni. rockstar!tyunning, journalist!reader, threesome, unprotected sex, face fucking / deep throating, oral (m. rec), dirty talk, degradation, name calling & petnames, kinda mean dom!taehyun (i’m sorry i’m obsessed!!), soft dom!kai, some praise, creampie, facial, cum eating?, manhandling, there’s a lot of cum lmao

that elle korea photoshoot made me think of late 80s rockstar!tyunning who are in the middle of touring and you as a small journalist trying to get an interview with them… elbowing other bigger journalists for a fighting chance in the crowd but to no use.

that is… until the interview of a lifetime gets landed on your desk. somehow, someway, your boss managed to get them to agree to have you interview them, and you jumped at the opportunity!

now here you were, sitting in front of them with the bright lights and cameras surrounding you as you asked them various questions—trying to not think about how all of their answers are just the slightesttt bit suggestive…! (∩˃o˂∩)

“i like to get ‘em real wet, it’s easier to slide in that way,” taehyun responded. you momentarily blinked, completely caught off guard. a smirk was playing on his lips as he stared you down while kai chuckled at your reaction.

you glanced over towards the camera crew quickly and cleared your throat. “pardon?”

kai leaned forward in his seat that he was lounging in, a playful smile tugging the corners of his mouth up. “it’s notoriously difficult to get in leather pants, you know! and we wear them almost every night!” he then looked you up and down as he settled back in his seat. “have you ever worn them? leather? or perhaps latex? you look like you know how to slide on latex.”

the heat in your face was increasingly growing and you squirmed in the uncomfortable chair you were sitting in as more and more sexual innuendos fell from their lips. your thighs pressed together to try and help stop the slick forming in your panties, but it was absolutely useless, and your heart raced so fast and so loud you were sure they heard it. they just smirked more at you, heads tilted to the side as they awaited more of your questions.

“fuckkk, who knew you could suck cock as well as you could talk…” taehyun moaned as he thrusted deeper down your throat, holding your head in place. you felt him twitch as you gagged around his length. behind you, kai moaned loudly at the sudden way your pussy clenched down on him as you bounced. his fingers dug into your hips as he guided you up and down faster.

fat tears streamed down your face as you looked up at taehyun, drool dripping down your chin from the corners of your mouth. “awee, do you not have anymore questions for us?” taehyun cooed as his hips snapped against you. “is your mouth too full? hm, slut?”

you whimpered around his thick cock just as kai started fucking up into your already overstimulated cunt. your eyes squeezed shut as more cum dripped out of you and down his length, making where the two of you joined together more messy and white. more whimpers and whines struggled to leave your mouth as kai kept fucking you, hips shaking as they slammed up into yours with another release. loud squelching and creamy wet sounds reverberated off the walls of the room that you were in.

“a-answer him. he doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” kai exhaled sharply as he pulled your hips down so none of his cum dripped out of you. “you liked our answers, didn’t you, baby? don’t think i didn’t notice the way your thighs were pressing together.” he spoke through jagged breaths. his hands grabbed at the plush of your thighs and pulled them further apart.

you lost your balance and fell forward, gagging loudly as you took more of taehyun down your throat by accident. you used his hips to steady yourself as you nodded. “mhm,” you mumbled in responded and taehyun swore sharply before pulling his cock out of your mouth.

“of course she liked them, look at her now—letting the two of us stuff her full of our cum like our own little cumslut.” he stroked himself, soft whimpers emitting from him until he finally came all over your pretty face. “f-fuck!” he shakily swore.

taehyun pulled you off of kai and in the process all of his cum dripped out of you and down your thighs. you were then dragged to the edge of the bed with taehyun situated behind you, standing, his hands at your hips. kai moved from his laying position and moved towards you on the bed, still-hard cock wet with both of your previous releases and dripping cum. “be a good little whore and suck him off, will you?” taehyun said.

taehyun didn’t waste any pushing himself into your sensitive pussy, making you lurch forward into kai. you cried out in shock as kai steadied you, that same playful smile from earlier on his face. “you’re doing so well, baby.”

kai placed the tip of his cock onto your wet and swollen lips and tapped them as taehyun harshly fucked you from behind. you sniffled and slowly opened your mouth, taking him down your throat inch by inch as he let out a string of moans. “just like that, that’s it,” he breathed.

you inhaled hard through your nose as you stared up at him, bobbing your head and sucking in your cheeks. kai cupped your face, subtly moving your head up and down on his cock faster. “if you keep being a good girl for us we might even give you an exclusive.”

[ kipo’s note . . . ] claws at the bars of my enclosure and howls at the moon as i transform into a werewolf.. I NEED THEM SO BAD. hehe can you tell the title is based off of interview with the vampire (´ω｀*) save me rockstar!tyunning who uses my body for their own personal gain… save me…. rips clothes off as i run into the woods.

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ] all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

[coldfanbou]

On A Mission

Things are moving, and the playing field has started in this part. The ladies are going to start making their moves.

Length 3.1K

Nayeon X Mreader

Previous Part

You wake up in the morning, feeling the soft breath of your lovers on your chest. Looking down, Momo and Jihyo rested their heads on your chest, arms wrapped around you as they peacefully slept. You look over at the nightstand and reach for your phone, checking the time. A few hours before work would start. You ease out of their grasp, trying not to wake them. You replace your body with a pillow, each woman pulling on it as they sleep. You grab your clothes and head home, leaving them a message. 

Once you’re home, you quickly shower and prepare for the day. When you arrive at Dahyun’s apartment building, you find her, Nayeon, and Jeongyeon waiting together, chatting as you arrive. “I’m surprised to see you two waiting here. Are you feeling better?” You ask, looking at Jeongyeon. 

She gives you a small smile, “Good enough to go to work.” With that, they pack into the car, and you take the usual route to work, dropping off Eunsoo at daycare first. Jeongyeon sits beside you as you begin the work day; coworkers pass by the entire day, checking in on her. You’re happy to have Jeongyeon back at work; she took a load of you, and having her presence around was generally comforting. 

As lunch came around, you found yourself in the break room with Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Dahyun. Some light conversation happens between the four of you, but you notice Nayeon staring at you. “Do I have something on my face?” You ask her, interrupting the conversation.

“Oh, no. It’s nothing. I’m just not very good with faces, and I try to memorize people's looks,” she exclaims. You're about to question her answer, but Dahyun moves the conversation to another topic before you can say anything.

“Have any of you done karaoke before? A new place opened down the street, and I wanted to try it, but I’m scared to go alone.”

Nayeon’s eyes shoot open at the thought of karaoke, eyeing a perfect opportunity to keep the subject there. “Jeongyeon and I went to karaoke all the time with our group of friends in college.” Nayeon excitedly taps Jeongyeon’s shoulder, “We should try to get everyone together. It’s been so long since we’ve all been together.” The young woman turns to Dahyun before Jeongyeon can reply. “Dahyun, come with us. It’ll be like a big party. Jeongyeon is a great singer; you should hear her.” 

“Oh, um, sure. I’ll need a babysitter, though, so I can’t do it tonight.” Dahyun says, feeling overwhelmed by being invited to a group event. 

“We’ll get one for all the kids; that way, we don’t need to worry about it.” Nayeon says before raising her hands and cheering, “Girls night!” Her smile shines brightly, her two front teeth poking out like a bunny. You smile back, happy that they could all bond together like that. You don’t say a word about not being included, even if it did sting a little because you were right there. Nayeon continues talking, taking the lead in planning their girl's night by messaging her friends. You chuckle a little and catch Jeongyeon’s eye. She gives you a slight smile as if to say sorry about not being included. 

As your lunch ends, you return to your desk to begin the second half of the day. Before heading to her desk, though, Nayeon heads to the bathroom. She silently cursed herself; she had just learned that Jeongyeon, Dahyun, and Jihyo were competing for your affection, and she was bringing them all together. It was too late to take anything back, though; she had set a date with everyone and given the details to Jihyo, who had the babysitter take care of their babies there. She took a few minutes to compose herself, running through her conversation with Jeongyeon and figuring that they must all be on good terms if they were still talking. Nayeon took a deep breath and made her way to her desk, getting to work and finishing the day. 

As you dropped the women off at their homes at the end of the day, Jeongyeon stopped to tell you to drive her to her home. She sounded unsure of herself, and when you asked her if she was certain, she said she was. Jeongyeon knew she had to come home eventually, and though she would have preferred more time to get herself in order, she couldn’t leave her child with her husband. Once you were gone, she made her way to the front door, taking a deep breath before opening the door. Inside, she found a mess. One she could tell was from a man who didn’t know how to take care of a child; formula was spilled on the floor, milk was over the countertops, and toys were laid out on the floor. “Jeongyeon?” Her husband’s voice rang out from another room; he walked to the living room, caring little Jieun.

 “Where have you been?!” he yells, not caring about scaring the baby in his arms. “I tried calling you over and over again, and you never picked up!” The anger in his voice continues to rise, scaring Jeongyeon. 

Jeongyeon steeled herself, taking Jieun from his arms and clutching the baby to her chest. “If you’re going to yell, I’m going to walk right out that door,” Jeongyeon says, putting on a serious face. This shuts up her husband, who is unused to hearing Jeongyeon stand her ground. “You’ve been cheating on me. I-I don’t know how long it's been, but it’s clear it's been long enough that you felt comfortable talking to them about that sort of stuff when I’m around. Do you even know what I gave up for this relationship? I dreamed of being a singer but saw it as a future with you. So, I put that behind me and helped your career. I didn’t want a baby, but you did because it would make you look good. I cared for Jieun every day without your help because you said you had long nights working on big projects. I gave up my job and my dreams because I loved you.” Jeongyeon's voice becomes filled with anger as she continues, “And you decided to cheat on me?! Did I ever matter to you? Was I just some good-looking woman on your shoulder that would make you look good?” Her husband tries to speak up, but Jeongyeon continues, “Shut up! I’m talking! I’m-I’m done.” She says sternly, gulping as she speaks what she hopes will be her final words to him. “You aren’t the man I married. I don’t know if he even really existed. I’m leaving you. I want a divorce.” Jeongyeon can feel the tears welling up in her eyes but carries on. She moves past him, not letting him stop her, as she packs some of Jieun's things and gathers some of her clothes. She places everything into a single suitcase and carries it out of her room. 

He tries to talk to her, but she has none, leaving the place she once called home with her child. Jeongyeon sniffles, knowing she made the right decision by leaving him and gets on a bus. She finally lets herself shed tears as she holds Jieun to her chest. “I’m sorry, baby, it's just you and me now.” Jeongyeon climbs off the bus and walks a few blocks to Nayeon’s home. When she knocks on the door, Nayeon is quick to open it. The older woman gives Jeongyeon a supportive smile and welcomes the pair inside. She helps Jeongyeon and Jieun become accustomed to their temporary home.

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

After work and dropping off the babies at Jihyo’s home, they headed straight to the karaoke place on Friday night. “Ladies, tonight we celebrate a few things. One is our first night out in a long time; the other is Jeongyeon divorcing that bastard husband!” Nayeon announces to the group as they begin their night of fun. While it shocked everyone, they raised their glasses and drank. The night was filled with music and laughter as the women enjoyed themselves, each singing songs they loved. Dahyun integrated well into the group of women, becoming fast friends with everyone. During one of the later pauses, the topic of sex came up. Momo couldn’t help but gush about her time with you and Jihyo. Dahyun released a surprised gasp and felt worry creep into her mind as every woman began to compare their experience with you. 

“Oh, Dahyun, have you been with him?” Dahyun mind became cluttered with thoughts, but one thing she knew was that she couldn’t give up. 

“I have; we’ve done it a few times.” The others give Dahyun an ovation, clapping for her and pressing her to tell some stories. A shy smile creeps onto her face, and Dahyun recounts her times with you. 

“I wonder who’s going to get him in the end.” Momo blurts out after Dahyun finishes telling her story. She laughs after, nearly spilling her drink on herself. Her statement brought questions, though, as each woman began to think of the other as competition. “I can tell you who it won’t be, though. Nayeon.” Momo’s comment brings laughter to the group; Nayeon was the only one you hadn’t had sex with. 

“Ya! It can totally be me. I’ll have sex with him tonight!” Nayeon declares. When the others laugh, she commits to it. “Don’t laugh! I’ll do it!” Nayeon shakes her friends, trying to get them to take her seriously. The situation is enough to put everyone at ease, but in the back of their heads, they realize they have to do more if they want to win your affection. They knew who had the best chance right now; it would be between Jihyo, Jeongyeon, and Dahyun. Each woman had more than a physical connection to you. Momo, Mina, might only see you as a piece of meat, but after their time with you, they weren’t too willing to have you taken away. As for Sana and Nayeon, they just felt a sense of competition after Momo’s words. 

Still, the night continued with each woman singing their heart out late into the night. Once their time was up, they headed home. Mina and Momo went to theirs, and Jihyo took Dahyun and Jeongyeon to her place to sleep off the night. Sana went her own way, leaving Nayeon, who was on her way to yours. Drunk but wholly focused on her goal, she got a taxi, barely remembering your place, and walked to your door. She pounded her fist against the door, “Ya! Open up!” When you didn’t come to the door immediately, she yelled again. You opened the door this time, yawning as she had woken you up. As soon as you opened the door, Nayeon lunged at you, wrapping her arms around you and pressing her lips against yours. You’re knocked to the floor and feel  Nayeon pull you in closer, pressing her chest against yours. “I need you to fuck me.” She moaned, grabbing your hands and placing them on her breasts. 

“Hey, hey, hold on, Nayeon!” You say, pushing her off you. You close the front door, and when you turn around, you see Nayeon stripping down, throwing her shirt onto the ground, and trying to get her pants off. You place your hands on Nayeon’s shoulders, “Nayeon, you’re drunk. I’m not having sex with you.” The drunk woman tries to shake your hands off, but you overpower her. Thinking quickly, you carry Nayeon to your room, tossing her on the bed before quickly leaving the room. You hold the door closed for a long time, finally letting go long after Nayeon’s given up.  You take a deep breath and walk to the couch, lying on it and falling asleep.

You wake up with a moan in the morning. Rubbing your eyes, you look down to see Nayeon’s lips wrapped around your cock. She’s bobbing her head, quickly taking you down her throat. Her flexible tongue swirls around your cock, as she strokes your shaft. “I told you I needed to have sex.” She mumbles, looking at you as she spits on your cock. Nayeon’s big hands move down your length, making you groan. “I’m not drunk now, so it’s not a problem,” Nayeon mutters as she moves over the top of you, lowering herself onto your face. You take a deep breath, grunting as you feel your cock hit the back of Nayeon’s throat. Nayeon pushes her cunt onto you, wanting you to eat her out. Relenting, you drag your tongue along her slit. Nayeon’s body tenses, and she moans into your cock. “That’s it, keep going.”

Nayeon teases you, grabbing your balls and giving them light squeezes as she laps at the tip of your cock. It was a far sight from the woman who was watching you fuck her friends not too long ago. You continue to lap at her cunt, going as far as to grab her ass and pull her down. Your tongue pushes inside Nayeon, making her cry out as she feels your tongue press against her walls. It was a foreign sensation to her but one that gave her immense pleasure the more she thought about it. As your fingers dig into her skin, Nayeon’s moans become louder. She arched her back and bit her lip, struggling to focus on her blowjob. She wrapped her plump lips around the head of your cock, swirling her tongue around it quickly as she moaned. She stroked your cock quickly, wanting you to cum soon.  Nayeon clenched her teeth, grimacing as she felt her core tighten before finally exploding as she climaxed. She tasted sweet, and you lapped at her cunt during her climax. Her body shuddered, and she collapsed on your body. You slide out from under Nayeon’s body and watch her chest rise and fall as she breathes heavily. You get behind Nayeon and grab her waist. “Hold on a second.”

You grab your cock and rub it against her folds. The sensation makes Nayeon whimper, and she looks over her shoulder, “If you’re going to do it, don’t tease me.” Her whimpers become louder as you continue to tease Nayeon. You push her thighs together and begin thrusting between her legs. Your cock drags along her lips, driving her crazy. “Please stop, put it in already,” she begs, grabbing your hands. “Fuck me already, give me your cock.” Nayeon’s cheeks fill with air, and she hits you with puppy eyes in an attempt to force your hand. You rub Nayeon’s ass before smacking her. She yelps and meets your gaze as you press your cock against her entrance. “Yes! Please fuck me!” You slide forward, slipping and going back between her folds. Nayeon’s heart drops, and she kicks her feet against the sofa cushion. 

You press the tip against her entrance again and push your cock inside. Nayeon smiles as she finally feels your cock slip inside her. It stretches her out and hits deep inside her. Nayeon places her head against the sofa, humming as you push more of your cock inside her. Every inch you put in stretches her a little more, and by the end, Nayeon feels completely filled. You pull out slowly, dragging out the process before ramming yourself back in. Nayeon groans as she feels your cock impale her; every thrust that follows is much the same. You stir her inside as you pound away at her body. Your bodies make a loud clap with each thrust. Nayeon keeps her head down, struggling as her core tightens again. Your consistent thrusts hit her g-spot, making her cry out as pleasure floods her body. “Fuck! Shit, I’m going to cum.” Nayeon says, gripping the cushion as she nears her climax. Her walls tighten around your cock; they rub against your cock, making you grit your teeth as you begin to speed up.

You grab Nayeon’s arms, pulling them back. Nayeon lets out a roar as she cums; her walls clamp down on your cock as you continue thrusting. The overwhelming pleasure breaks Nayeon for the moment; she begins mumbling as your thrusts continue. “C-cum inside me…” She weakly mumbles. Approaching your climax, you bury yourself inside Nayeon and unload. Your semen floods her cunt, painting her walls white as your cum makes its way to her womb. You let go of Nayeon’s arms and collapsed on top of her, pumping her full of cum. Nayeon groans as she feels the warmth of your cum spread throughout her body. 

Seeing the time you pull out of Nayeon, your cum flowing out of her sore cunt as you rush to take a shower before realizing that it was Saturday and you had the day off. You come back to the living room and notice Nayeon has barely moved, going from her stomach to her side. While you were rushing to shower, Nayeon took a picture of herself. She was covered in sweat, and her hair was a mess, but it would get the message across. She sent it to the group chat, showing the others she had fucked you. 

There’s a slight smile on her face as she pushes her stomach, and more cum flows out of her. The sight makes you hard, and you decide that you might as well fuck Nayeon while she’s still here. You walk over to the couch and move Nayeon onto her back, rubbing your cock against her folds. “I worked so hard to put that in you.”

“Maybe I want more,” Nayeon said with a smile as she spread her legs further apart. “I can see why everyone likes being fucked by you. Now let’s go again.” Nayeon said, aligning you with her entrance. 

At Jihyo’s home, the three women couldn’t help but laugh as they saw the message pop up. They glanced at each other, knowing what the goal was for each of them. “Well, ladies. We all know what we’re after.” Jihyo announced. 

“Right,” Jeongyeon followed. Dahyun remained silent; she wasn’t the most confident about her ability and knew she had to make her move. She pulled her phone out and texted the group chat, commenting on Nayeon following through with her word. It prompted the others to begin responding, chiding Nayeon for being competitive. While the others were distracted, Dahyun started messaging you, asking to meet you at a cafe. She took a deep breath and put her phone away. She wanted to secure a future with you. With Jeongyeon's divorce just beginning and Jihyo still married, she has the opportunity to lock you down. 

[reidmarieprentiss]

They Were Never You

Summary: Spencer finds family and maybe more while at university.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, light angst

Warnings/Includes: Spencer and reader are 12-18 in this, teenage angst, teenage hormones, absent parents, Spencer's mom, arguing, bad relationships, reader is a cheerleader, use of Y/N, reader only has a mom

Word count: 5.4k

a/n: spencer baby i want you to be happy you don't need any more sadness in your storyline !!

main masterlist

Starting college at the tender age of 12 was undeniably daunting for Spencer Reid. The vast campus, the mature students, and the intense coursework all contributed to a whirlwind of emotions that he had to navigate. Fortunately, he found some solace in knowing that his assigned advisor was not only understanding but also one of the leading professors in his field. It was a slight disappointment, though, that he wouldn’t attend her lectures until he reached his upper-division courses. 

One afternoon, Spencer had a scheduled meeting with his advisor, Jan, late in the day. He nervously approached her office, his small frame barely reaching the little window as he knocked softly.

“Hi, Spencer! Please come in and sit down,” Jan greeted warmly, her smile putting him at ease. 

“Hello,” he replied quietly, his eyes flickering over to a girl sitting in the corner of the room.

“I’m sorry, this is my daughter, Y/N. She hangs out with me after school gets out. I hope you don’t mind that she sits in on our meeting,” Jan explained, noticing Spencer’s curiosity.

“No—uh, no, that’s fine,” Spencer stammered, taking a seat opposite Jan.

A few minutes into their meeting, Jan’s phone buzzed insistently. She glanced at the caller ID and sighed. “I’m terribly sorry, Spencer, but I have to take this call. It’s quite important. I’ll be back shortly,” she apologized, stepping out of the room.

Left alone, Spencer fidgeted with his hands, feeling the awkward silence stretch. You, always the social one, saw an opportunity to break the ice.

“So, Spencer, how old are you?” you asked, your curiosity piqued by the boy who seemed out of place among the usual college crowd.

“12,” he replied, barely meeting your gaze.

“Me too! How come you’re in college?” you continued, genuinely interested.

“I’m really smart,” Spencer said simply, his voice tinged with pride and modesty.

“Hmm, okay… what’s 10395 divided by 15?” you asked, testing him with random numbers that popped into your head.

“693,” he answered without hesitation.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t even know if that’s right, but I totally believe you,” you said, your tone filled with genuine awe.

Spencer giggled shyly at your response, the stuffy air in the room easing slightly. For the first time since he started college, he felt a bit of normalcy, sharing a simple, innocent moment with someone his own age.

—

Spencer found himself looking forward to the times he could schedule late appointments with Jan, his advisor. It wasn't for any particular reason, of course. He definitely needed to see her later in the day to fit into his very busy schedule, and it was absolutely necessary for him to meet with her multiple times per term. 

As the months went by, these late afternoon meetings became a regular occurrence. Spencer would knock on Jan's office door, a little less nervous each time, and he always found you there, sitting in the corner, waiting for your mom to finish work. 

One particular afternoon, Spencer arrived for another scheduled meeting. He knocked and entered the office, greeted by Jan's familiar, warm smile.

“Hi, Spencer! Come on in. How’s your day going?” she asked, motioning for him to take a seat.

“Hello, Dr. Jan. It’s been good, thank you,” Spencer replied, glancing over at you in the corner.

As the meeting progressed, Spencer couldn't help but steal glances in your direction. You would often be engrossed in a book or working on some homework, but you always looked up and gave him a friendly smile whenever you caught him looking.

After discussing his coursework and upcoming projects, Jan excused herself once again. She apologized as she stepped out, leaving you and Spencer alone in the office.

“So, Spencer, what are you learning about today?” you asked, your eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Quantum mechanics,” Spencer replied, his voice gaining a bit of excitement. “It’s really fascinating.”

“Wow, that sounds complicated. Can you explain it to me?” you asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.

Spencer’s eyes lit up. “Well, it’s about understanding the behavior of particles at the smallest scales. It’s like… imagine if you could see the tiniest building blocks of everything around us and how they move and interact with each other.”

You nodded, trying to grasp the concept. “That sounds really cool. Do you think I could understand it if I tried to learn?”

“Of course!” Spencer exclaimed, his enthusiasm growing. “You’re smart, Y/N. You can understand anything if you put your mind to it.”

You beamed at his encouragement. “Thanks, Spencer. Maybe one day you can teach me more about it.”

“I’d like that,” he said, feeling a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain.

When Jan returned, she found the two of you deep in conversation, a smile playing on her lips as she observed the budding friendship. Spencer left the office that day with a lighter heart, looking forward to the next late afternoon appointment, not just for the academic guidance, but for the chance to see you again.

—

As summer approached, Spencer found himself facing an unexpected dilemma. He had always assumed he would return home when college was out, but a recent revelation about his mother’s living situation in a care facility left him with nowhere to go. The thought of spending the summer alone and without a place to stay weighed heavily on his mind. 

During one of his scheduled meetings with Jan, a meeting he had purposely chosen when he knew you wouldn’t be there, Spencer decided to bring up the issue. He entered the office, his usual composed demeanor slightly marred by worry.

“Hello, Spencer,” Jan greeted him warmly as usual. “What’s on your mind today?”

“Hi, Dr. Jan,” he began hesitantly, his fingers nervously tapping on the armrest of his chair. “I, um, have a problem. I don’t have anywhere to go for the summer.”

Jan’s expression softened with concern. “What do you mean, Spencer?”

“My mom... she’s living in a care facility, and there’s no other family I can stay with,” Spencer explained, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what to do.”

Jan’s heart broke for the young boy sitting before her. Despite his remarkable intelligence and maturity, he was still just a child in need of care and support. She thought for a moment, weighing her options, and then made a decision.

“Spencer,” she said gently, leaning forward. “I can’t bear the thought of you being alone this summer. Would you consider staying with Y/N and me? We have plenty of room, and I’d love for you to spend the summer with us.”

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t want to be a burden, Dr. Jan.”

“You wouldn’t be a burden at all,” Jan assured him with a kind smile. “In fact, I think Y/N would be thrilled to have you around. You two get along so well, and it would be nice for you to have some company your age.”

Spencer felt a wave of relief wash over him. The idea of spending the summer with you and Jan, rather than facing the unknown alone, was a comforting one. “Thank you, Dr. Jan. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s settled then,” Jan said, her smile widening. “We’ll make sure you have a wonderful summer, Spencer. I’ll take care of all the arrangements. You just focus on finishing your term.”

As Spencer left the office that day, a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt a sense of belonging and gratitude that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The prospect of spending the summer with you and Jan filled him with an unexpected sense of excitement and hope.

—

Spencer Reid’s summer with you and your mother, Jan, was transformative. The days started with shared breakfasts, where laughter and stories flowed freely. Spencer, ever the scholar, enjoyed the frequent library visits. You would tag along, your nose often buried in a novel, while Spencer delved into more complex topics. These trips were not just about books but about bonding over shared interests and knowledge.

Afternoons often saw the three of you venturing outdoors. Whether it was picnics in the park, hiking up hills, or friendly competitions in various activities, the time spent in nature fostered a sense of friendship and fun.

Evenings were reserved for deep conversations. Whether it was discussing a book, sharing personal stories, or stargazing in the backyard, these moments brought you and Spencer closer together. Spencer often found himself opening up about his past and his fears, finding comfort in the understanding and support from you.

Cooking together became another highlight of the summer. Jan would teach you and Spencer her favorite recipes, turning the kitchen into a hub of activity and laughter. You and Spencer would often compete to see who could make the best dish, with Jan serving as the delighted judge.

Through late-night talks, you and Spencer grew particularly close. You introduced him to music, movies, and other pop culture he had missed out on, while he helped you with your schoolwork, making complex subjects more approachable and even fun.

As the summer ended, Spencer left with a lighter heart, feeling a sense of belonging and gratitude. The bond you all had formed carried through the next year. Despite his busy college schedule, Spencer made time to help you with your schoolwork, exchanging notes, emails, and occasional visits to keep your friendship strong.

When the next summer arrived, Spencer once again stayed with you and Jan. The days were much the same, filled with learning, adventures, and deep conversations. This time, there was an added focus on preparing you for high school.

Spencer tutored you in advanced subjects, making sure you felt confident and ready for the challenges ahead. Jan and Spencer both helped you develop important life skills, from time management to effective study habits. Spencer also provided emotional support, sharing his own experiences and reassuring you about the transition to high school.

—

"It's so nice that you get to live in a dorm," you complained to Spencer, lying back on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Huh? Why?" Spencer asked, looking up from the book he was reading.

"Because you get to be alone. I would kill to constantly be alone," you replied, tone drenched in teenage angst.

"It, um, it's not that great," Spencer said, glancing at you.

"But like, you don't have someone constantly sticking their nose in your business and making you do chores and homework," you continued, a hint of frustration in your voice.

"It's nice your mom cares about you so much," Spencer replied softly.

"Oh, Spence, I'm sorry. I—I didn't mean to be inconsiderate," you said, sitting up and looking at him with genuine remorse.

"No, it's okay. I just don't really like being alone," Spencer admitted, his eyes meeting yours.

"You have me?" you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

"I know," Spencer smiled back at you, feeling a warmth in his chest.

The two of you were hanging out in your bedroom, no longer having to stay with your mom after school now that you were the ripe age of 15 years old. You and Spencer spent a lot of time together, having become best friends over the years. Little did you know, Spencer had developed a huge crush on you.

"Did I tell you that Taylor asked me to prom?" you suddenly announced, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Prom? You're a freshman. Who's Taylor?" Spencer asked, feeling a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest.

"They're a junior on the football team. They're really popular," you said, your excitement evident.

"Oh," Spencer muttered, trying to hide his disappointment.

"I thought you'd be excited for me… this is huge!" you exclaimed, leaning closer to him.

Spencer forced a smile, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Yeah, it's, um, great. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Spence," you said, your smile brightening as you reached over to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. 

Spencer's heart ached with unspoken feelings, but he didn’t feel happy for you, his best friend, but he’s become pretty good at hiding his emotions. As you continued to talk about prom and your plans, Spencer listened intently, offering his support and trying his best to mask the growing crush he harbored for you.

—

Spencer sat in the backseat, nervously clutching the seatbelt as you practiced driving with your mom in the passenger seat.

"Okay, ease into the gas," your mom instructed calmly.

"Got it," you replied, trying to focus on the road ahead.

Spencer couldn't help but chime in, "You're doing great, Y/N."

"Thanks, Spence," you said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror with a smile.

"Remember to check your mirrors before changing lanes," your mom added, her tone patient.

You nodded, following her advice. "How do you stay so calm back there, Spencer?"

"I'm used to being in high-stress situations," he said with a small chuckle. "This is nothing compared to some of my classes."

You laughed, the tension easing slightly. "Glad to know my driving isn't as terrifying as quantum mechanics."

Spencer smiled, "Not even close."

—

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, concern evident in his voice as he saw you crying on your bed.

“Taylordumpedme!” you sobbed, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“What? I can’t understand what you’re saying. Take a deep breath,” Spencer urged gently, trying to calm you down.

You took a shaky breath and repeated, “Taylor dumped me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Spencer said, his heart aching for you.

“Now I can’t go to prom! This is so humiliating! Everyone knows! I told the entire cheer team I was going, now practice is going to be so awkward,” you wailed, burying your face in your hands.

Spencer moved closer, hesitating for a moment before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You don’t need Taylor to go to prom. You can still go when you’re a junior.”

You looked up at him, eyes red and puffy. “But that’s so far away, and it won’t be the same. I was so excited, and now it’s all ruined.”

“I’m sure you’ll get another date,” Spencer said gently, trying to reassure you.

“Spencer! They were my soulmate!” you cried out, fresh tears streaming down your face.

Spencer’s heart ached seeing you so upset. “I know it feels that way now, but you’re amazing, Y/N. If they didn’t see that, then they weren’t worth your time.”

“You don’t understand,” you sniffled. “Everyone was looking forward to seeing us together. I was looking forward to it.”

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “You’re right, I might not fully understand how you feel, but I do know that you’re stronger than you think. And I’ll be right here with you, no matter what.”

You sighed, wiping your tears. “Thanks, Spencer. You always know what to say.”

He gave you a small, supportive smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

“I love you, Spence,” you said, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“I—I love you too,” Spencer replied, his voice a bit shaky. More than you know, he thought silently, his heart pounding in his chest.

As you clung to him, finding comfort in his presence, Spencer closed his eyes, savoring the moment despite the circumstances. He wished he could tell you everything, how his feelings for you had grown far beyond friendship. But for now, he held you close, hoping his embrace could convey the depth of his affection.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Thank you for being here for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Spencer brushed a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling a bit of the weight lift from your heart. With Spencer by your side, you knew you could face anything, even a heartbreak as painful as this one.

—

Spencer got his license before you, which meant he became your unofficial chauffeur using the car your mom saved for you. Whether it was taking you to the movies, dinner, the mall, salon appointments, or wherever else you needed to go, Spencer was always there, ready to help. He was basically your boyfriend in every way that mattered, and yet, you were still dating a string of different people.

Being an objectively attractive, nice, and smart cheerleader, you had no shortage of admirers. People were practically banging down your door to date you. Whenever one person would dump you, Spencer was always there to comfort you. You’d lean on him, cry on his shoulder, and he’d offer kind words and hugs. And then, just days later, you’d have a new partner, and the cycle would begin again.

Spencer watched it all with a mixture of heartache and resignation. He knew you were dealing with your own issues, much like he was. Both of you shared similar experiences with distant or absent fathers, but while Spencer’s response had been to seek stability and comfort in his studies, yours had been to never allow yourself to be single.

One evening, after yet another breakup, Spencer drove you home from the mall. The car was filled with the sound of your quiet sniffles and the hum of the engine. He glanced over at you, his heart aching for you once again.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

You shrugged, wiping away a tear. “I’ll be fine. I just don’t understand why it keeps happening.”

Spencer wanted to tell you that you deserved better, that these fleeting relationships weren’t enough for someone as amazing as you. But he held back, afraid of crossing a line. “You know I’m here for you, right? Always.”

You gave him a small, sad smile. “I know, Spence. You’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As he pulled up to your house, you reached over and squeezed his hand. “Thanks for everything. Really.”

Spencer squeezed back, wishing he could do more. “Anytime. You know where to find me.”

You leaned over and gave him a quick hug before getting out of the car. As you walked up to your front door, Spencer sat there for a moment, watching you. He sighed, knowing that no matter how many people you dated, he’d always be there, waiting in the wings, ready to catch you when you fell.

But deep down, he couldn’t help but hope that one day, you’d see him as more than just a friend. One day, maybe, you’d realize that the person who had always been there for you, who had always loved you, was right in front of you all along. He turned on You Belong With Me and drove back to the dorms. (let's pretend this song had already come out)

—

Towards the end of the year, you excitedly announced to Spencer that you were in "a serious relationship this time, Spence." He wanted to believe you, but given your track record of fleeting romances, he couldn't help but harbor some doubts. However, as the relationship lasted a whole month, he began to think maybe this time was different.

Since you turned 16, you no longer needed Spencer to drive you around, but now your new partner, Avery, had taken over that role. Spencer couldn't help but feel replaced. You were always too busy to hang out, spending all your free time with Avery. It left Spencer feeling a pang of loneliness and jealousy he couldn't quite shake.

In June, Jan threw Spencer a graduation party to celebrate him finishing his undergraduate degree. It was a big milestone, and Spencer was looking forward to celebrating with the people he cared about. You showed up with Avery, who you had now been with for two months, and it felt like a punch to the gut for Spencer when you spent the entire party with them.

When you finally introduced Avery to Spencer, he couldn't help but feel a surge of resentment. Avery was polite, but Spencer's responses were curt and distant.

"Avery, this is Spencer. My best friend," you said, smiling brightly.

"Nice to meet you, Spencer. Y/N's told me a lot about you," Avery said, extending a hand.

Spencer didn’t take their hand, just ignored it until Avery awkwardly put it back down. "Nice to meet you too," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

The tension was palpable, and you quickly picked up on it. After Avery walked away to get a drink, you turned to Spencer with a frown. "What's your problem, Spencer?"

Spencer, not Spence. "I don't have a problem," Spencer replied, avoiding your gaze.

"Clearly, you do," you said, crossing your arms. "You've been ignoring me all night, and you were so rude to Avery."

Spencer sighed, trying to keep his emotions in check. "It's just... I feel like you've forgotten about me. You're always with Avery now. We never hang out anymore."

You softened slightly, realizing the impact your new relationship had on Spencer. "Spence, I didn't mean to make you feel that way. Avery's important to me, but so are you."

"It doesn't feel like it," he muttered, looking away.

"That's not fair," you snapped, frustration bubbling up. "You know how much you mean to me, Spencer."

"Do I? Because it sure feels like I've been replaced," he shot back, his voice tinged with bitterness.

You stared at him, hurt and anger mixing in your eyes. "That's not true. I'm sorry if it seems that way, but I care about you both. Can't you just be happy for me?"

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to quell the storm of emotions inside him. "I want to be happy for you, Y/N. I really do. But it's hard when I feel like I'm losing my best friend."

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. "You're not losing me, Spence. I promise. I'll make more time for us. Just... try to get to know Avery. They make me happy."

Spencer nodded reluctantly. "Okay. I'll try."

You gave him a small, hopeful smile. "Thank you."

The party continued, but the argument lingered in the back of both your minds. It was a reminder that even the closest friendships could be tested by change. But you were determined to find a balance, to prove to Spencer that no matter what, he would always be an important part of your life.

—

It was Spencer's last night before he would move away to a different state, preparing to settle in during the summer before starting his master's program. You had promised to hang out, making plans for one final evening together. However, as Spencer rode up to your house on his bike and saw Avery's car parked in the driveway, it was clear that you had forgotten.

Feeling an overwhelming surge of emotions, with rage at the forefront of his teenage hormones, Spencer sped off, pedaling furiously down the streets. He couldn't believe you had chosen Avery over him on the one night that mattered most. 

Back at his packed up door, Spencer's mind raced with thoughts of betrayal and heartbreak. He sat down at his computer, the anger and hurt boiling over into his fingertips as he began to type. Words flowed out, raw and unfiltered, forming an emotional email that laid bare everything he had been holding inside.

Subject: Goodbye

Y/N,

I can't believe you forgot about tonight. Our last night together before I leave, and you chose to be with Avery instead. I don't even know where to start. This hurts more than I can put into words, but I'm going to try.

I’ve been your best friend for years. I've been there through every breakup, every tear, every moment you needed someone. I thought tonight would be different. I thought you would be there for me, just this once, when it really mattered. 

Seeing Avery's car in your driveway tonight felt like a slap in the face. It's like I've been replaced, and maybe I have. I always tried to be supportive of your relationships, even when it hurt to watch you with someone else. But this time, it's different. This time, it's unbearable.

I've been hiding my feelings for you for so long, afraid that telling you would ruin everything. But now, I feel like I've got nothing left to lose. I love you, Y/N. More than just a friend, more than anything. It's been torture watching you date all these people, knowing that none of them could ever love you like I do.

I don't know what I'm expecting by sending this. Maybe nothing. Maybe just to let you know how much you've hurt me. Maybe to let you know that I’m leaving with a broken heart. I don't know if we'll ever be the same after this, and maybe that's for the best. But you deserve to know the truth, even if it changes nothing.

Goodbye, Y/N. I hope Avery is worth it.

Spencer

He hit send before he could think twice, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. As he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, Spencer wondered if he had just ruined everything or if, somehow, things might finally change for the better. Either way, there was no turning back now.

—

You didn't see Spencer's email until the next morning. As your eyes scanned the words, your heart dropped to your stomach. He loved you? Avery had been at your house the previous night to break up with you, not to spend time together. Panic set in as you called Spencer over and over, but he never answered. You hadn't even realized what day it was.

Knowing Spencer's plane didn't leave until the evening, you threw on some shoes over your pajamas and ran out of the house, your hair still messy from sleep. You drove as fast as you could to Spencer's dorm. When you got there, you used the trick Spencer had taught you to sneak past the security-locked doors and ran up the stairs to his floor.

You banged repeatedly on his door, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, the door opened, and there stood Spencer, looking surprised and confused.

“What? Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice tinged with irritation.

“I’m so sorry I forgot about last night,” you said breathlessly.

“You saw my email?” Spencer's face hardened, a mix of vulnerability and anger in his eyes.

“Yeah. I’m so, so sorry, Spencer. I’m the worst friend in the world. Avery was only over to dump me anyway,” you explained, tears starting to form in your eyes.

Spencer stared at you, his emotions warring on his face. “So you only remembered me because Avery dumped you?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

“No! It’s not like that, Spencer. I was planning to spend the night with you, but I got caught up in everything and lost track of time. You’re so important to me,” you said, stepping closer.

He looked away, his jaw clenched. “It doesn’t change the fact that I was an afterthought, Y/N. You’ve been so wrapped up in your relationships that you’ve forgotten about the one constant in your life.”

You reached out, touching his arm gently. “You’re right. I have been a terrible friend. But I don’t want to lose you, Spencer. You mean the world to me. Can we talk? Please?”

Spencer took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “Okay. Let’s talk,” he said, stepping aside to let you into his dorm room.

As you entered, you felt a surge of relief and fear. This conversation could change everything, and you hoped with all your heart that it would be for the better.

You stepped into Spencer's dorm room, the door closing behind you with a soft click. The room was filled with packed boxes and the sense of imminent departure. You both sat on the edge of his bed, the air thick with unspoken words.

“Spencer, I’m really sorry,” you began, your voice trembling. “I’ve been so caught up in my own world that I haven’t been a good friend to you. I never realized how much I was hurting you.”

Spencer looked at you, his eyes full of pain. “Y/N, I’ve always been there for you. Every time you got hurt, every time you needed someone. And I was happy to do it because I love you. But seeing you with all those people, knowing I was just your fallback, it hurt. A lot.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “I know. And I’m so sorry. I never meant to make you feel like that. I care about you so much, Spencer. You’re my best friend.”

“Best friend,” Spencer repeated, his voice hollow. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you, isn’t it?”

You shook your head. “No, Spencer, you’re more than that. You mean everything to me.”

Spencer’s expression softened slightly, and he moved closer. “Do you really mean that?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of your words. “Yes, I do.”

Without warning, Spencer leaned in and kissed you, his lips soft and hesitant against yours. For a moment, you froze, taken aback by the sudden intimacy. Then you pulled back, your heart racing.

“Spencer, I—” you started, but he cut you off.

“You don’t see me like that, do you?” he asked, his voice cracking. “You don’t love me the way I love you.”

“Spencer… that was my first kiss,” you said softly.

“What?” Spencer's eyes widened in surprise.

“Mhm,” you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips.

“But you’ve had so many partners!” he exclaimed, trying to make sense of it.

“I never kissed them,” you admitted, your smile growing.

“Why?” Spencer asked, bewildered.

“They were never you,” you replied, your eyes locking with his, filled with sincerity and emotion.

Spencer stared at you, his mind racing to comprehend what you had just revealed. "But why me?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, filled with hope and disbelief.

"Because, Spencer," you began, taking a step closer to him. "No one else ever made me feel the way you do. You were always there for me, always caring, always understanding. I guess I was selfish… and scared to ruin what we had, so I kept my distance in that way. But now I realize how much I’ve hurt you, and missed out on by not telling you sooner."

Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest as he processed your words. "I thought I was just your fallback, the one you turned to when things went wrong with others."

"You were never just a fallback," you insisted, your voice firm. "You’ve always been so much more than that. I was just too afraid to admit it, even to myself."

“So what do we do now?” Spencer asked, his eyes filled with uncertainty.

“Well, you’re leaving…” you began, your voice tinged with sadness.

“I know,” he said, looking down.

“But… we have email, and phones, and we can write letters!” you said, your tone growing more hopeful.

“You’d be willing to do long distance, for me?” Spencer asked, his eyes big and full of love.

“I’d do anything for you, Spencer,” you replied sincerely, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m so glad Avery dumped you,” Spencer said, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“That’s so rude,” you laughed, feeling the weight of past hurt lifting, “but I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Spencer replied, his eyes shining with emotion.

—

Two years later, you graduated high school and Spencer was well into his PhD programs. You had stayed true to your commitment to each other, maintaining a long-distance relationship through countless emails, phone calls, and handwritten letters that kept your bond strong. The distance had only made your connection deeper, and your love grew with each passing day.

When you got a job in the city where Spencer was studying, you moved in together, transforming your shared space into a home filled with warmth, laughter, and countless books. Still in love, still best friends, you navigated the challenges of life together.

Your late-night study sessions turned into heartfelt conversations, your shared meals became cherished moments, and your weekends were filled with adventures and quiet times alike. As you sat together on the couch, wrapped up in each other, you both knew that this was just the beginning of your long life together.

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[keerysfreckles]

how do i tell you? — OP81

pairing: oscar piastri x gn!reader (one mention of reader wearing heels but you can just skip it)

summary: oscar's favorite ways to show you he loves you.

warnings: i had a vision, i started yapping, i couldn't stop (sorry not sorry!)

a/n: pls let mclaren get their strategies right in hungary 🙏🙏

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

three years ago when you started dating oscar, you noticed he had quiet but meaningful ways of showing you he cares and loves you.

lately you've noticed he has his favorites.

¹

you had dragged oscar with you to the mall, since your best friend came down with the flu over the weekend. he agreed, happy he was able to spend more time with you over the summer break.

after you exited the first store, he insisted on carrying your two bags, full of new clothes and accessories.

"are you sure?"

"positive," he sends you a warm smile, after taking the bags out of your hands.

"i could carry at least one you know," you try to reason.

he responds by sliding his hand into your own, "doesn't mean you have to."

now every time he joins you for a shopping trip, big or small, he always carries your bags. doesn't matter if it's one, or up to seven. he always tells you his hands or arms don't hurt from the weight, considering the training he does. you simply react by kissing his cheek whenever he takes a bag. a win-win, if you ask oscar.

²

every race weekend your able to attend, oscar and you are attached at the hip.

if he's walking into the paddock for media day? you're walking with him, hand in hand. (once he carried you on his back because of rain. he was worried your heels would get ruined!)

he just wants company while walking to go tell zak or andrea something? he wants you to be there with him.

he's eating lunch with lando and their managers? he's positive you'll be there in less than five minutes, once you notice he's not in his driver's room.

you wait at the egde of the stage during fan zones. the biggest smile adorning your face as you watch oscar and lando answer ridiculous questions from fans. your heart warms whenever someone asks about you two. with a picture displayed on the screen behind the boys, usually from your recent instagram posts, featuring oscar.

nine out of ten times during races you're found in the mclaren garage. the other one time you're most likely in oscar's driver's room. the team even got you your own pair of papaya headphones.

² ½

whenever oscar is in the garage, he's always near you.

secretly, the admin of the mclaren account loves it. he always seems to snap pictures and take videos of you two together. recently, he's gotten three moments on film that the fans absolutely adore.

once was during one of the practices. oscar and lando were both told to wait for the rain to stop, so they could get clean laps in. meaning everyone was just waiting in the warmth of the garage.

oscar was sitting down in a chair, with a few mechanics beside him, as they listened to lando yap about whatever his brain could think of in the moment.

you walk over to oscar, giving him his water bottle as you stand beside him. he silently thanks you by leaning his head against your stomach. you can't help but smile and run your fingers through his hair, as you're now stuck listening to lando's nonsense.

another instance the admin was happy to be in the right place at the right time, was right after a race.

oscar had started in fifteenth position after having a bad qualifying due to extreme winds. he managed to turn the double digit place start into a podium, as he parked in front of the third place sign.

as soon as oscar got out of his car, you were pretty sure you were screaming the loudest for the australian. after getting weighed, he ran right towards you. the team around you two couldn't help but swoon as you wrapped your arms tightly around oscar's neck. you saw oscar's squished cheeks and crinkled eyes through his open visor, and took the opportunity to kiss his nose through the small space. (that picture is pinned on the opeightyone account, due to oscar's request.)

³

oscar loves waking up next to you. his arms are always wrapped around you, whether your facing him or not. he wants nothing more than the feel your warmth, and the comfort of his bed, as he starts his day.

as soon as he wakes up he pulls your body into him, instantly making you the little spoon. it doesn't always wake you up, and even if it does you never mind.

"osc," you groggily giggle as his hands roam over your stomach under his borrowed shirt.

in response the boy shoves his face into your neck. he makes sure to remind you how warm that body part is, and if he could get buried there he would. you always laugh, never believing him. even if this is your routine almost every morning.

"can we just lay in bed all day?" oscar asks, his voice slightly mumbled from his mouth pressing against your skin.

"i thought you and lando has plans today," you remind him, only to hear him groan.

"i can just cancel. tell him i'm sick or something."

you turn around in oscar's arms, sleep still very evident in his eyes. but he still looks at you as if you're his whole world.

"he's one of your best mates. you can't just cancel last minute."

he starts to make up another excuse, but you're quick to beat him to it by bringing your lips to his.

he simply places his head back in the crook of your shoulder and neck. you shiver as his nose brushes lightly over your skin.

"ten more minutes," he states.

you silently agree by running your fingers through his hair. a habit you've picked up over the past few weeks. a habit oscar can definitely get used to.

⁴

the most meaningful way oscar has shown you he loves you happened last week. the gesture hasn't left your mind, and you can't help but get all giddy inside just thinking about it.

every time your parents come into town, they always take you and oscar out for a nice dinner. they both absolutely adore oscar. they always have, since you introduced him to them on your second day of ninth grade grade. they only loved the boy more once you two started dating. they saw how much you two loved each other, and it reminded them of how they acted when they were younger.

tonight was no different as oscar opened your door for you, walking in behind your parents to enter the restaurant your father picked on the way here.

you and oscar sat on one side of the table, with your parents sitting on the other. your mother noticed the loving eyes oscar would send your way when you told a story, or when you were just listening to something silly your father was explaining.

the night went on nicely, and you were about to finish and pay for your meals. you suddenly dropped your fork when something loud crashed from behind you. servers began picking up the trays and smashed plates and bowls, while you leaned over to pick up your fork from the floor.

oscar was quick to reach his hand towards the corner of the table, covering the sharp edge. he continued on with the conversation with your parents as you began to sit back up right.

your heart warmed immensely at the action oscar seemed to do so naturally. you placed your hand over his, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles, silently thanking him before he moved his hand into his lap. yours of course staying intertwined with his.

[wosostories]

Pranks

Prompt: Can you do a uswnt x teen reader, where reader gets hurt when someone pulls a prank on her or something like that?

Sonny pulls Y/N in to the aftermath of a prank and it doesn't go as planned.

You were heading back to your room from a meeting with coach. You had been told that you were going to be starting in tomorrow's game. You were so excited that you didn’t notice Sonnett running down the hallway. 

“Y/N watch out!” She calls out right before she runs into you. You wobble a little but she steadies you before you hit the ground. “Sorry! Got to run.” She is about to take off again down the hallway. “Actually, I could use you.” Sonny grabs your hand and drags you down the hallway behind her. 

“Why are we running? What did you do?” You ask her. 

“There is no reason for the running. I didn't do anything. Why would you even ask that?” Sonny responds. 

“Sonny, get back here!” You hear Kelley yell from down the hallway. 

“Did you prank Kelley?”

“Maybe?”

“Becky told you that you aren’t allowed to drag me into your prank wars. And I think that this constitutes dragging me.”

“I may be dragging you, but this is not a prank war so not breaking Beckys rules.”

You turn a corner and are all of a sudden heading down a set of stairs. Sonnett’s grip around your wrist made it impossible to get out of it without hurting yourself. 

“Can you let me go please. I was on my way to get ready for dinner. I am already running late.”

“You're fine, we can just go to dinner right now.” You are keeping up with Sonny until the final bit on the first floor. You trip over one of the stairs and let out a yelp as you fall down the final few stairs. You fall into Sonny and you both tumble to the ground in a heap. 

“Sonny! Y/N!” Kelley calls from the flight of stairs above you. This draws the attention of some of the other girls who are waiting in the meal room which is next door to the staircase. 

In a second they were at the bottom of the stairs as Sonnett peels herself off the floor. 

“Oh God, Y/N! Are you ok?” You let out a groan clutching your wrist to your chest. 

“Sonnett what did you do?” Becky all but yells. 

“I- I didn’t…” 

Ali came running in with the team doctor. 

“Y/N can you sit up for me?” The medic asked. She helped you into a sitting position leaning up against the wall. She took your hand into her own and started poking it in different spots. 

The rest of the girls turned back to Sonnett and Kelley knowing that you were in good hands. They were berating them as the medic made her assessment. 

You let out a cry and tears start streaming down your face as she continues her assessment. “I think it's broken. We need to get you to the hospital for x-rays and casting.”

“A- am I still going to be able to start tomorrow?” You ask through your tears. All of your teammates went silent waiting for the answer. 

The medic sighed, “It’s not the end of the world, you will have another opportunity to start. You are only 16.” 

“Y/N I’m so sorry.” You shake your head and let the medic help you to your feet. Her and Ali help you out of the hotel to head to the hospital. 

“You’re the one who is going to tell coach why Y/N can’t start tomorrow. And the part you played in it.” Becky told her. 

Sonnett nodded tears in her own eyes, “I hope you think pulling her into the prank was worth it.” Kelley said, walking past her leaving Sonny alone as the team made their way back to the meal room to wait on news of Y/N wrist. 

[sometimesanalice]

California Dreaming

Summary: At sometime past 4am, the last thing you would have ever expected was to receive a call from Bradley Bradshaw. But time is a funny thing it feels like it might be running out.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.6K

Warnings: angst and a bit In-N-Out slander

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on its own!)

You’re pulled from the light sleep you’d just barely managed to slip into by the sound of your phone ringing.

Although you weren’t too sure if your mind was playing tricks on you again. And in that liminal space between awake and asleep, you didn’t trust yourself to know the different anymore. Sleep and you haven’t been on the best of terms over the couple of months, and you had the dark circles under your eyes to prove it.

Your boss had told you about the chatter he’d heard about a position opening up soon at the West Coast office. It was an opportunity that would be perfect for you, minus the fact it would involve uprooting your entire life and moving across the country. You still hadn’t given him an answer yet whether he should put you forward for it or not. But you’d taken to sleeping with your ringer on just in case you were needed for anything, not wanting to close the door completely. And you’d woken up in a panic more than once thinking you’d slept through an emergency call, only to see absolutely zero new notifications.

Just when think it might have been another stress induced fluke, it goes off again.

Bleary eyed, you scramble to reach it. Wanting to silence it to not wake up your boyfriend from his more-peaceful-than-yours slumber. Only half-consciously noting it’s sometime past 4 AM.

However, it’s the name splashed across the screen that makes your heart stop.

𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗘𝗬 𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗪

You sit straight up, the crisp white sheets your boyfriend preferred pooling around your waist.

“Bradley?” You don’t even remember hitting the green button before the phone was up to your ear. “Bradley? Are you ok?” The words come out a sleepy slur all jumbled together by your sluggish tongue.

He’d texted you when he landed back on US soil; a silly selfie with crinkled bag of McDonalds in his hand and the American flag in the background. It had made you grin like an idiot when your phone had lit up with it.

You knew that he had been called back to Top Gun, but that was as much as he’d been able to tell you.

With the time difference, it makes it the hour too early for you, but also too late for him. He should be asleep right now. But you know Bradley, he wouldn’t be calling right now unless it was about something important.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know it’s late there,” Bradley apologizes. “Or early, I guess.”

Tired. He sounds so tired.

You didn’t doubt he was still probably fighting the jetlag that came with being in San Diego after living in Japan for the last year and a half. But it was the weariness in his tone that had you concerned.

“But you’re ok?” you press. You needed to hear it.

“I…” he pauses, then sighs. “Yeah, kid. Everything’s fine.”

You blow out a relieved breath, rubbing at your heavy eyes.

“Good. That’s good,” you nod, reassuringly. Not that he can see you.

He is safe. He is ok. That’s all that matters to you.

Jack groans your name. “Seriously?” The word drips of exasperation and annoyance.

You wince. Less at its sharpness, but more at the feeling like you can’t seem do anything right lately.

You and your boyfriend have been together a little over two years now. You have a comfortable life together in Boston, nice even. But you shook the snowglobe of your relationship when you’d first mentioned the possibility of a promotion and moving, and it still felt like you were waiting for the remainders of all those stirred up flakes to settle back down.

“Give me a minute, Bradley,” you whisper into the phone, “Don’t hang up.” Your voice is so quiet you’re not even sure he heard you.

You turn towards your boyfriend, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but he’s already rolled over away from you.

A literal cold shoulder.

Your eyes trace over the exposed skin of his back. It’s dark, but you could point out where every freckle is on him with bullseye precision. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he knew you as well.

Like when he’d bring you red roses, a flower you’ve never felt one way or another about. You’d tell yourself it’s the thought that counts, that it’s the gesture that matters. But for as many times as you’ve bought your favorite flowers yourself and displayed them on the coffee table in your shared living room, Jack has never once brought them home for you.

It made you wonder sometimes if he even truly wanted you, if he cared enough to pay attention. Or if he was just content in the fact that you’d be there.

And then you’d feel guilty for even thinking that in the first place.

But you didn’t just break up with someone over flowers.

Or the way he always seemed to make plans for you with his friends without ever asking you first. Or the way he was never more attentive to you until the two of you were in front of a group.

There’s a sliver of moonlight peeking through the edges of the blinds of your bedroom. A set of curtains would have solved the issue, but you’d never been able to get Jack on board. It was something you there thankful for now as you tiptoed out of the room with just enough light to make sure you wouldn’t trip over anything.

You ease the door gently closed behind you, feeling some of the tension melt from your body.

“Ok, I’m back,” you tell your best friend.

“I take it we woke up Jack?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, padding towards the black leather couch in the living room. You fight back the hiss that wants to be released when your bare thighs touch the ice-cold material. The October chill had a way of sneaking in everywhere. “He’s got a big pitch presentation on Friday,” you say, feeling like you need to explain, “So he’s just a bit on edge right now.”

Bradley makes a noncommittal sound, something close but not quite like a disapproving rumble. You distract yourself from reading into it too much by turning on the lamp on the side table to its lowest setting. A dim glow illuminating the living room.

“Tell me, how’s California?” It’s a pivot. You know you’re trying to smooth things over; you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.

“Sunny.”

You snort and roll your eyes.

“It seems you left good jokes back in Japan,” you tease. You pull your knees up to your chest and reach for your favorite soft knit blanket, tucking it around you. “Be honest, how many things did you forget to pack this time?”

Bradley groans your name. This time you smile.

“I had to take scissors to my favorite pair of Levi’s, because I didn’t bring any shorts for the beach.”

Picturing the pained look on his face as he desecrated his favorite jeans nearly sends you into a fit a giggles. But out of respect for the fallen and your best friend’s feelings you press your lips together, the corners pulling up on their own.

You can’t resist lightly teasing him though, “Beach jeans? That sounds like a choice.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Bradley says, solemnly. The drama queen.

“Is there someone who saw you in them that I could bribe for some new blackmail material?” you ask. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten my hands on anything truly juicy.”

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, kid, but I looked damn good in them.”

This time you don’t hold back the laugh, only muffling it with a hand over your mouth when you realize that your boyfriend could probably hear you through the closed door.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Give me some time and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll make some space in my Bradshaw Blackmail folder in the meantime.” Bradley’s warm chuckle in your ear makes the room feel less cold. “So what else have you been up to?”

“We haven’t had a ton of down time, but I did hit up an In-N-Out with Natasha the other night.” That was a name you were familiar with. You’ve never met Bradley’s fellow aviator and friend, but you were happy he had someone with him there that he was close to. “It was the same one I took you to when you came to visit after I finished Top Gun the first time.”

It was a fluke of fate that you’d been sent to the West Coast office for some training around the time that Bradley was on leave before being sent back to his squadron. The overlap was only for a few days, but the two of you had made the most of it.

“Who knew you were such a sentimentalist?” You lean your head back against the couch.

“It’s the closest one to base,” he justifies, “Although, you’ll be happy to know their milkshakes are still trash.”

You grin. “Hey, I never said they were trash. That was all you, Bradshaw.”

You’ve only been there the once, but it had been fun getting to experience it with him for your first time. He’d ordered more than enough food for two people, making sure to get some of the more classic not-so-secret menu items for you to try. And the Neapolitan shake had been fine, but the ones from the ice cream shop in your hometown where Bradley had had his first job were much better.

“Your face said otherwise,” he bats back.

You hum noncommittally, not wanting to concede. It was more fun for you this way, even if he was right. Not to mention no one knows how to read your face better than Bradley does.

When you don’t argue, he continues, “There’s even a rumor going around that they might want to keep some of us around longer. Like they’d form a new squadron that would be stationed here.”

You perk up, “In San Diego? You could be there permanently?” Between his deployments and moving around from base to base, you don’t think he’s been in one place for more than two years since he went to UVA. “That would be amazing.”

“Yeah, it really would,” Bradley agrees, he sounds hopeful, “But I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

‘Hope for the best, but expect the worst’ was the motto he seemed to live by. He’d had the rug pulled out from underneath him more times than anyone else you knew.

The two of you are quiet for a moment.

You don’t want to push him into talking about whatever the reason is that he’s called so early in the morning. But no matter how many jokes you trade with him, it’s still in the forefront of your mind. And try as you might, you can’t shake that feeling of unsettledness that was resting heavily on your chest.  

Outside your living room window, the streetlights are bright against the dark sky.

You’ve told him more times than you could count that he could call you any time, but Bradley being Bradley has always made it a point to call during hours that were convenient for you, even if that meant he was still up at some ungodly hour.

But that was so him, always putting everyone else ahead of himself.

With the confidentiality that goes hand in hand with his job, you know he can’t talk about the specifics. It was something you were used to after nearly a decade of Naval service behind him.

You nibble on your lower lip, weighing your words.

“How’s it been with…” You trail off, but you know he knows who you’re referring to. You run a hand up and down your calf, trying to warm up quicker.

Mav? Pete? He’d been Captain Mitchell the last time you’d seen him back when you were in high school, you weren’t sure what his rank was now.

Mav has always been the number one topic on Bradley Bradshaw’s No Fly List. The few times you’ve dared to bring it up in the past had been shut down quicker than you think he could probably fly his jet.

Bradley told you last week in a text that had simply read He’s here. You didn’t even have to ask who he was. It had been just as much of a shock to you as you imagined it probably was for him seeing the man who had derailed his dreams when everything else in his world had already fallen apart.

It was a story you’d always thought there had been more to, but between the two of them you’d always be Team Bradley. That’s how it was supposed to be for best friends.

You can feel Bradley mulling over his answer. “It’s been… motivating.”

The way he says it you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. And maybe he doesn’t even know himself.

You sit up straighter on the couch. “Oh?” you say, casually. Neutrally. Not wanting to let your inflection to color Bradley’s response.

Their reunion has been a long time coming, you just wished you could be there for him with this the way he’s always been there for you. Not just on the phone, but there by his side.

Bradley sighs again, it’s heavier this time. Like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s probably roughly running his hand down his face, the way he always does when he’s really, truly frustrated. Like he’s trying to free those too big feelings from trapped beneath his skin.

“I’m flying with him for the first time in my career. I want him to see why I’m here. I want to show him.” The anger, the hurt rings though loud and clear. But so does the determination. “These patches I’ve been called back are the best of the best that there is. And I’m one of them, kid. And I got here on my own, without him.”

You wait to see if he is going to continue or not, wanting to give him the space to talk through his feelings, but he’s gone quiet again.

“You’ve worked so hard for this, Bradley.”

“It was all I ever wanted,” he says, his voice rough, “To be like them.”

Like Mav. Like Ice. Like his dad.

You’d been there for the fallout. He’d been crushed when he didn’t get to go to the Academy, the self-destruction that followed had been hard to watch. You’d seen the way he had to pick up the pieces of his life. The way the boy had quickly had to become a man. Every choice Bradley has made since then has been with one purpose in mind.

He’d set out to be a Naval aviator and he’d achieved it.

“You should be so proud of yourself,” you say, softly.  “I know I am.”

You imagine Mav is proud too, but you don’t say that part out loud.

After all, he practically helped raise Bradley- in his own way.  Always calling whenever he could. Sending presents. Spending his leave time with the Bradshaws. They’d been a family.

“Sometimes-” Bradley cuts himself off, trying to collect his thoughts. You can almost feel the tormented whirlwind of them through the phone. “Sometimes,” he starts again, “There are moments, when I see him fly- it’s crazy shit that no one but him can do- and I forget. Just for a second. But then I remember and it’s like I’m eighteen and feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut all over again.”

Your stomach twists in the same way it always does when you’re reminded of that rough period in time when the two of you were just teens. And now that you’re older, your ache even more for the boy whose whole world was so turned upside down by the one person he thought would never let him down.

“When we’re flying together, I’m reminded how it could have been. How it should have been,” he corrects himself, roughly. “I thought I was fucking over it. It’s been fifteen years, kid. And I’m pissed at myself because he should be nothing to me, I shouldn’t care what he thinks.” His voice is a hoarse rasp. “Why can’t I get over it?”

It’s times like this where you can feel every mile between the two of you. Every inch of space in your long-distance friendship. And it chafes at you that all you can be is an ear for him to vent to rather than a shoulder for him to lean on.

“There’s no version of this where it wasn’t going to be tough. And I don’t think you trying to brush off who he was to you, like none of that mattered, is going to make this any easier for you,” you tell him. “Not with the history the two of you have. And you can’t punish yourself for having feelings about it.”

“I told him no one would mourn him if he burned in.” He all but blurts it out.

Your suck in sharp breath and you shake your head in disbelief, “Bradley, you didn’t.” There’s no hiding the shock in your voice.

You know there’s an unspoken code of conduct between aviators from the things you’ve picked up from the way he’s talked about his career and fellow Naval officers over the years. That when everyone’s lives are so dependent on each other to look out for one another, there were certain things you didn’t joke about. Things you didn’t throw around, not even in the heat of a moment.

“Shit, shit,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. 

You don’t know what to say to him. It’s silent in your darkened living room. The only sound is of his affected breathing over the phone.

You can’t keep dancing around things with him anymore tonight. He cracked open the door, but now you’re the one pushing through it.

“Bradley, what happened?”

His voice is strained when he speaks again, “We had a couple accidents during training a few days ago- no one was hurt.” He is quick to clarify, and you know it’s for your benefit. “It was a bird strike and they had to eject, but they were cleared to fly the next morning.” It hits too close to home all the same. You don’t worry about anyone the way you worry about Bradley. “Mav found me in the Ready Room later that night, and it was just the two of us alone for the first time since everything happened. He was talking to me like I was the kid he’d helped raise, instead of the one he’d fucked over. And then all that anger came rushing back. So I did what I always seem to do, I went for all the things that I knew would hurt him the most.”

You squeeze your eyes tight in sympathy. You’ve been on the receiving end of Bradley’s sharp tongue before. You’ve never held it against him, but you’ve also never forgotten the way his words sliced straight through you.

“I knew it was fucked up as I said it, but in that moment it felt good to hurt him the way he hurt me,” Bradley says, quietly. Every word feels chewed on, like they’d be covered in indents of his teeth. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look in his eyes, kid. I really fucked up. It’s been eating at me ever since.” He pauses and clears his throat. “I hate that part of myself. I hate that I said that to him, regardless of the shit we’ve been through.” His voice is pinched, tight. “My mom would be so disappointed in me.”

The guilt in his voice is unmistakable and it's a confession you can tell that takes a lot out of him. No one holds on to regrets- or grudges- like he does. Even if the one he’s holding it against is himself. You know this is going to be something he’ll carry around with him for a long time to come.

But it is the way he stumbles over the mention of Carole that cracks your heart open.

You had grown up adoring her. She’d been lightning in a bottle. Her smile was always the brightest in the room, and her laughter always made people stop to look wanting to be in on the joke too. There was no one quite like her.

And after she died, you’d mourned that loss too. You still carried the evidence of that love with the scar issue on your heart. But for Bradley, that was a wound that no amount of time would ever fully heal for him. Forever a reminder of who wasn’t there.

He’d already lost so much. First, his dad. Then his mom. And now with his uncle.

Bradley had told you about Ice and his passing. You knew they had come to an understanding in the after of everything. It was a relationship held together by a monthly phone call or two, and a dinner invite whenever Bradley was in town. He’d called you during one of his breaks on the morning he found out, troubled because he didn’t know he’d even been sick.

Just more time missed with someone who had meant something to him.

You didn’t want him to regret saying those harsh words without the chance to make amends. You didn’t want him to miss out on any more time with people who wanted to be there for him. You didn’t want him to shoulder around that pain and resentment anymore. A decade and a half of it was more than enough to carry that around. You didn’t want him to forever push away the one person who probably cared for him just as much as you did.

“So apologize,” you gently urge him. “Talk to Mav and apologize. For him and for you.”

He sighs, heavily, “It’s not that simple.”

Gone is the quiet girl in her dark living room. You want him to hear you. “It really is though, Bradley. Tell him. Pull him aside after class or get there early. Or take him to that bar on the beach you told me about and buy him a beer. Don’t let this be a thing you can’t take back. You can still apologize.”

“I-I don’t think I can. There’s not enough time for that now.” His words are stilted.

You feel your eyebrows pinch in confusion, “Aren’t you guys there for a couple more weeks?” He doesn’t answer you right away and you feel a chill drift across you, even under your blanket. “Does that mean you’re shipping out soon?”

“It’s why I called.” There’s something more serious in his tone, you’re talking to the Naval officer now. “We got the orders, we ship out tomorrow. Or later today, technically.”

There’s a swooping sensation in your stomach and it feels like the floor has fallen out beneath your feet.

“Goddamn it, Bradshaw. Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Your voice wavers.

“I know, I probably should have.” At least he has the good sense to admit it. “I just wanted to talk to you, like normal. Although we didn’t get very far before I derailed the conversation,” he says, self-deprecatingly. “Do you think you can give me a few more minutes of normal, kid?”

You know there’s not much you can ask, and even less than he can tell you. You’re surprised you even allowed to know this much.

But you don’t need a dossier of confidential government information to tell you that whatever he’s being sent to do is dangerous, because you’d be able to read even the most redacted version of Bradley Bradshaw. You’d known something was off from the very moment you’d seen his name lighting up your phone.

You don’t want him to feel your anxiousness, you don’t want to add to whatever else he’s currently going through. Bradley called you because he wants to let his mind relax. So if he wants normal, you can give him normal. You can give him as much as he wants, as much as he needs.

“I’m sorry for making fun of your beach shorts.”

Bradley huffs a soft laugh, “No, you’re not.”

“You know,” you muse, fighting to keep your tone light and airy, “I haven't played hooky in a while and I have some miles to use before the end of the year.”

“You want to come out here?” The suggestion works just like you hoped it would, he sounds less troubled than before.

“I could use some Vitamin D and a milkshake. Do you know a good place to make it worth my while?”

“I might. It depends on your opinion is about Neapolitan shakes though.” Your nose scrunches up on its own. “Are you making that face, kid?”

“No,” you reply too quickly.

“Liar.”

You smile to yourself. “I’ll even let you pick me up from the airport and you can finally show me that Bronco of yours in person. It only seems fair that I get to see what all the hubbub is about after I’ve spent hours letting you talk my ear off about it: V8 engine this and four-speed manual transmission that.” You do your best Bradley impersonation and earn an amused scoff from him.

He’d bought it right before he’d been sent to Japan. Ice and his wife had been looking after it for him while he was away. Bradley had even documented his reunion with it after landing back on US soil by sending you a video of it with him humming the Peaches & Herb song in the background.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Bradley says. You think he might be smiling too.

It’s all to easy for you to slip into a normal conversation with him. He asks about your mom and stepdad. You don’t mention the possible promotion, but instead tell him about the passive aggressive microwave fish debacle that plagued the entire floor for days.

The two of you talk about nothing in a way that feels like everything. And every chuckle you pull out of him feels like a victory. Your tired eyes flutter shut on their own, with them closed you can almost pretend he’s sitting right next to you, until a yawn slips out of you without your permission.

“It’s getting late, I should let you go.”

You want to keep talking to him, but you can imagine the circles that have already formed under his eyes over the last few days. “You should get your sleep. Rest up, because we have big milkshake plans…and you’re not allowed to stand me up. Got it, Bradshaw?”

“I hear you,” he promises. “Try to stay out of trouble until I get back, kid.”

“No promises.” You feel your lower lip wobble.

“Atta girl.”

You laugh. It sounds a little watery to your own ears, but you hope he doesn’t hear it. You’re grateful he didn’t choose to FaceTime you. It’s probably for the best he can’t see your face, you’ve never been a very good poker player.

“Be safe, Bradley.”

You’ve already decided that you’ll let him be the one to hang up first. You didn’t have it in you to hit the red button before he did.

He blurts out your name. “Wait.”

“I’m still here,” you answer, quickly.

You hear him sigh in relief. “I-You know you’re my favorite, right?”

“I know.” Your throat gets thick and your eyes prickle. “And you’re mine.”

“Yeah?”

Your friendship with him as always mattered the most to you. It wasn’t even a question.

“Of course. I didn’t make very intricate embroidery floss friendship bracelets at summer camp when I was thirteen for just anyone, you know.” You’d spent hours making him one in his favorite colors. He’d worn it until it fell off and then asked for another. “You’re my favorite too,” you repeat, wanting him to hear it again.

“Ok. Ok, good,” Bradley says. He lets out a slow breath. “See you soon for milkshakes, kid.”

“See you soon.” It comes out a reedy whisper.

You stay on the line until he hangs up.

And only when the screen goes black do you allow yourself to give into the emotions that had been surging up inside of you.

With the corner of your blanket, you wipe at the tears that are making hot tracks down your cheeks. There’s a hollowness that has settled in your chest that you don’t think will go away until he tells you when to book your ticket to come and see him.

It doesn’t matter that you remind yourself that he is one of the best at he does. Or that you know he’ll be with other people who are just as good as he is. In all the years he’s been in the Navy, you’ve never once heard him sound that unsure before, and it’s rattled you.

It’s not that you didn’t know there was risk every time he sat in the cockpit of his fighter jet, even if it was just to train. But this was the first time it’s ever felt like he was preparing you for the possibility that you might never see or hear from him again.

You didn’t want to imagine a world with Bradley Bradshaw in it.

He’s never once broken a promise with you, and he wasn’t allowed to start now.

You don’t know how long you sit there in the dark with only your feelings and the sound of the clock on the wall for company.

Your eyes drift towards the closed bedroom door, where you’re sure Jack is sleeping unbothered on a soft mattress between stark white sheets.

It hits you then that he hadn’t come to check on you.

It’s still just as dark outside. Only the little lamp next to the couch offers any light, as you look around your living room.

You’d liked all the exposed brick when you’d first moved in, had imagined all the ways you could soften the apartment with things to make it more cozy for you and your boyfriend. More like the two of you.

But the books on the bookcase had been carefully chosen to fit a neutral color palette, while all your favorites had been moved to the smaller one in the office. Their colorful covers hidden away. The spot where you thought some kind of landscape painting could have gone, had a photograph of a sepia-toned city hanging there instead. It was still art, but it was the kind of thing that had been made to disappear into the background.

You keep waiting to see a piece of yourself reflected in the room, some mark of you that had been left behind in the home you live in, but other than the black and white striped rug that had been too good of a deal to pass up on at a store with a no return policy, none could be found. You didn’t see any of yourself there at all.

You thought that you’d been making compromises, but it’s dawning on you that all along really what you’ve been doing is making concessions. A one-sided partnership. When all you ever wanted was to share a life with someone.

Earlier you found yourself making excuses to Bradley, but now it felt like something you weren’t sure you wanted to look past.

You are tired.

And not because it’s sometime around 5 AM now. You’re already well past the start of a new day.

You’re tired of being the one to trying to make something work.

You’re tired of being the one who always makes a genuine effort.

You’re tired of red roses.

Maybe people did end relationships over flowers. Or the art on the walls.

Grabbing your phone, you open your email ignoring all the messages that are already waiting for you, and start typing out a message. When you’re done, you read it over a couple of time before sending it off to your boss. The whoosh that follows as it bounces off the exposed brick in the quiet living room feels like progress.

You didn’t want to miss out on any more time either.

Not with the people who mattered the most to you. The people you mattered the most to.

Leaning over the arm of the couch you turn off the lamp and stretch out to get comfortable on the cushions underneath you. You tuck a throw pillow under your head and drape the blanket over you.

From this angle, you can almost pretend the city lights look like stars.

Your alarm is already set, and if you’re lucky you can doze a bit longer before it will go off all too soon.

But it’ll ok if sleep doesn’t find you.

You’re already California dreaming.

Who gave me permission to do this to myself?! Oh my heart. Don't mind me, I'm just in my angsty era. Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

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

[comfortless]

Everything you write leaves me breathless <333

Sorry in advance for my English

I was thinking about König, (maybe in an ancient rome/Greek settling) being so alone and desperate for connection that he turns to religion: one day he's walking in the woods, deep in thought, when he finds an abandoned temple. The inside is small but lavish, with a life sized statue of what must be its goddess. He sees this lovely sculpture, abandoned and alone and sees himself in her. He becomes a dedicated, fanatic and soso lovestruck worshipper. Unknownly to him his goddess, woken by his prayers, has been watching him and listening to him. One day while he's praying in front of her her statue moves and talks and now his deity is in front of him. Looks like he has an opportunity to worship her like she deserves ;)

granting you ten million kissies for this prompt and your sweet words! your English is perfect, little wisp! <3 also… giving me an excuse to write more loner/loner and mutual worship?! you have spoken to my heart…

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. historical/myth au; vague time period, brief mentions of violence, fluff, pining, not very explicit smut, mutual worship.

The spirit of the temple feels disorienting, though the architecture is a still, white marble, the floor riddled with leaves and dirt, creeping up the sides of the building as if river water had washed the entire thing ashore… Something feels very alive here, feathered out on the air, a pulse of thunder, the breeze beneath dove’s wings, enthused and yawning. Hungry.

It only becomes more apparent the closer he steps to the statue.

She is unlike any he has ever seen before, carved with the same skill, but so much smaller than the other statues in their temples, so much more lifelike that he almost thinks to greet her. She’s been painted unlike most, a perfect vision bathed in color where she stands out amidst the sea of white and green surrounding her. The temple has not been stained with blood, no offering strewn before her bare feet, left for the rot or dragged away by the dainty hands of this very goddess. No maidens sit in prayer, no men lower there swords to her…

There’s nothing to tell him just who she is, either.

Despite his better judgment, his hand does find her side, a swift draw up from the vision of her thigh peeking from her robe upward to curl over her hip. Her beauty is unmatched, impossible to describe and the call seems almost tangible, shrieking at him in whispers to bend a knee and let her in. So, he does. He prays to her in the silence, alternating between whispers and his own thoughts.

He tells her of his struggles: a soldier brought in from a small tribe up north, robbed from his parents as a boy, how all he knew now were the Roman ways yet could rarely comprehend their customs and deities. Maybe she could offer him some counsel or solace…? Make the weight of his blade feel less heavy as he struck down men that could very well be his own brothers? Give him something to return to when old wounds reopened and he bled, hurt with no one but himself to tend to his heart or his injuries.

The goddess only blesses him with silence: the wind does not pick up outside, there is no disembodied laughter, no sudden thought of an offering or new words to speak to her. She is void of an answer just as the very temple she waits inside is empty of all else.

This does not dissuade him from returning.

Returning to the city after another battle some months later, his first thought is to return to her, to leave the things he’s taken from dead men at her feet, to paint the temple with the blood lingering on his weapon. There is honey, wine, meat and jewelry made of stones from the sea. There is brittle, dried flakes of blood polished from his blade and left to settle onto the floor like the leaves of late autumn. He presents these things to her with a grin, thinking that assuredly this goddess would call back to him then, grant him with a love so consuming that all of the evasion and emptiness cursed upon him would be untwined.

He kneels before her statue, presses his cheek to her thigh, sighs content at the feel of cold marble against the ever-burning of his flesh, gazes up at her like an adoring dog.

Assuredly, if this temple were built for a being that did exist at all she would know just how she was all that this lonesome soldier had, would know the way that he loved her and waited with bated breath and heartstrings pulled taut for her to love him in turn. A greedy, begging muzzle that utters his prayers, words he’s never spoken to anyone whether deity or mortal, only to her in the quiet of the forest.

It’s not madness that provokes him, but the gentleness of her face and the tender look in her eyes, an expression that no other had ever offered to him, no one but this little forgotten goddess. Whether pitying or loving, he did not know. It was only enough to keep him returning: for many days, his path from the city led straight to her feet, even some nights were spent lying upon her floor, finding peace finally being able to sleep next to something apart from lonely walls.

The sun rises and sets each day where he sits and speaks to her as though she were a living, breathing woman. Occasionally he reads aloud to her in the stillness, cheekily tells her when another goddess’ name is brought up within the lines of poetry that they could never hope to compare.

It’s ridiculous when he does not even know what purpose she serves, but this silent figure is his only companion, the only thing that sets his heart ablaze and mind focused in battle because above all else, he has to return to her. Though she can not share his words, he knows somehow that she shares in his loneliness.

Finally, he thinks to ask her the question that has been burning at the tip of his tongue for weeks and months. One, that he has tried to hold back, display a patience that he lacks. It’s after a night of sleeping on cold marble, an ache in his neck from its hardness and his own refraining from bringing a cushion from his own home in his desperation to return to her.

“Why won’t you speak?,” he asks, somber as he makes his way to leave the temple, only halting in place to cast her a fragile look from over his shoulder. He has read the epics, heard the stories and seen the blessings of other deities… Yet no matter what he does or how often he tethers himself to her leg and dotes upon her, she still meets his devotion with nothing but her silence in return.

König is left with the thought that his gifts are not enough, that he, himself, is not enough, even as her sole devotee. To keep his mind preoccupied, he keeps to the city for a time. The bed is cold, the people still see him as a barbaric outsider, and the horrible coil wound around his heart only seems to tighten its grip further. He feels as though he has left a part of himself out there in the forest within the four chalked walls of her temple.

This loneliness does not feel like one he is forced to swallow down, it feels like a vicious sort of ache, the twisting of a dagger beneath ribs to sink in and steal away what little of a life he does have.

He returns to her the following night, with a furrowed brow and a grave look upon his face. There’s an intent to demand she free him of her, that this longing finally pass, but as his sandals reach the entrance to the temple, those thoughts fall away from his mind like droplets of rain, a cool drizzle that begins to fall outside the very moment he is sheltered.

The statue— the goddess moves.

She tilts her head and inspects him fondly, the perfect mouth he has envisioned speaking to him so many times prior tilts upward in the gentlest smile as her bare feet move to carry her body forward.

“A test,” she explains as though answering his question from only the past day, almost saddened by her own words as her gaze lowers to the space between them.

König’s heart does not roar then, it only melts with the knowledge that someone like her has been left alone for so, so very long that she felt the need to prove to herself that he would return to her side. He would. Time and time again he would. When she raises her head to look him in the eye, her own clouded and misty, he only silently prays that she could see such a vow upon his face.

“I am worthy then?,” he questions, forcing himself to remain rigidly in place despite the call- the urge, to circle her, just once, drop at her feet to then feel her pulse beneath his fingertips. Anything. Even an assurance would be reward enough, but there is always a greed in the hearts of men, one he feels burning a hole through his very being even now.

Her lips press to a line and her gaze seems faraway, lost in her own thoughts that must be as mighty as Olympus itself. After a time, she only answers in a soft whisper, “It is I who am unworthy of you.”

All discordance in his chest pulls to a halt at this, all apprehension and sadness are whisked away when she instead comes to kneel before him. She curls her arms around his leg, presses her cheek to his thigh as he had done so many times before. The goddess gazes up at him with not just affection… but reverence, as though he were the strongest warrior of myth, deserving of even the love of something only as ethereal and sweet as she could provide.

His breath catches for a mere moment before he lowers himself at her side. The stares exchanged from both are full of an unspoken wonderment, all of the things that words alone would fail to speak in truth.

He waits out the rain there, sat beside her with the air surrounding them charged with such a great and unspoken affection that even Venus would taste a bitter envy on her tongue should she pass by to see.

She tells him she can not recall what she was the goddess of… or if she was ever truly any goddess at all. The marble surrounding her was put up for a purpose, but she’s never seen the Elysian Fields or climbed Olympus on her own. Her memories are scattered blurs, and she confesses that she feels tired when she tries to parse things together in a way that he will understand.

He listens while he tends to her by offering the honey and dried meat left in offering for her here, then fetches fresh water from the stream that brooks several yards away and returns to her side with a face both damp and flushed.

König tells her of his life too, how during every battle since stumbling upon this sacred place he has kept her in mind; he has no wife to return to, no other women to bed, that since their meeting his life has become hers. He confesses he had the intention of returning only to force a curse upon this madness that had enveloped him, but… he could never have brought himself to do so, even if she had not appeared to him warm and breathing.

Her laugh then could have prompted waves of flowers to bloom and birds to sing in tune, whimsical and so precious he only begins to feel himself fall, truly. Not out of sheer desperation, but with genuine affection.

When her exhaustion does take her, she does not mind the way his arm curls around her middle to tuck her body closer to his own. The goddess has no fury within her, only mirrors his own feelings with a fluttering of lashes and a soft sigh.

So she sleeps, pulled close to him like a lover rather than a stranger. When dawn breaks, when König knows he’s to be called back to train and fight with the other soldiers, have dull talks about what land to cross and take for their own next, she tells him she will wait there for his return.

He can not concentrate as well on his training this day. The plans for future wars and battles do not send flurries, hot excitement through him. The world is an endless gray, reflected above with darkened clouds threatening further rain. There is only one place he wishes to be, one that yearns for him more than his own home or the women waiting on the street for coins the other men readily supply. When one, a native Roman, does ask him why he does not just venture to the brothel to put himself in better spirits, König only grits his teeth to still his hand from quieting him eternally. These men knew nothing of the love he feels, and certainly they didn’t deserve to.

The temple is no different from how he found it the night prior. The goddess sits with her hands curled in her lap, smiling just as fondly at him as she had before. His heart shatters at the thought that she had sat there waiting for him in such a way all day. He swears to her that he will have a proper bed made for her, bring her the softest of furs and cushions stuffed with downy feathers to lie upon. For now his offering is only fruit and wine, things that she shares with him while she shushes his concerns with quiet words and gratitude that he had returned.

She lowers herself again before him after pulling her robe free and lying it upon the floor. It is no proper bedding at all, but she swears that it is enough, that his own warmth is just enough for her to be sated and comfortable. His head swims when she kisses his thigh, drags her lips up from his knee to rest there with that reverent look in her eye. Mortals coupling with deities was not unheard of, but to think it could happen to him…

She is a goddess. How is he supposed to… How could he ever dirty her with himself? He thinks to refuse her before she tugs away the barrier of fabric between them and takes him into her mouth. Stunned, he only watches her, feels her in a way he has never felt a woman before until he finds his voice again.

“Lie down,” he breathes, shaky and tentative as he rests his hand upon her cheek. She complies, giddy and content when she’s splayed out on the white robe beneath her, legs parting immediately and her arms reaching upward to invite him into her hold.

There’s no tact when he lies atop her, feels the warmth of her thighs around him and her arms curled over his neck. His forehead is pressed to her own when togetherness is found, and when she sighs so soft as she envelops him in full, his mouth descends upon her own.

She doesn’t praise him, doesn’t need to in words, because the muffled sounds and cries that leave her lips are more than enough to spear him onward. König, however… he babbles ceaselessly, overwhelmed and overcome by such a profound joy, he can not keep himself from reciting every word that comes to mind, whether vile or pure.

“My goddess,” he whispers into her hair, eyes half-lidded and dazed with each shallow thrust. “We could have had this for a season… you have made me wait so long, hm?”

The way she feels is unmatched, he thinks, when her breathing shudders and she only seems to constrict him further. To think he could bring a goddess to ruin… the grin that crosses his face when he pushes his head against her neck is bordering on both ecstatic and cruel.

“I will give you a demigod,” he hisses against her throat, not at all subtle about just how far he was willing to go to keep her here. With him. More than Olympus, she belonged beneath him, and the tremor that wracks her form then is all of the confirmation he would need.

She sobs his name when the tension becomes too much to bear, fingernails graze the flesh of his shoulders as she shudders, falls into such bliss that her words of praise come incoherent and weak. He follows her to a saccharine abyss with a guttural groan.

The aftermath is softer than any other moment he has shared with her. There are an abundance of kisses pressed between them, littered across her flesh and his own with whispers that leave his mind cloudy. Her worship is subtle by comparison to his own, coming in honeyed stares and such words he would never dare to repeat, no lowly poet deserved to ever hear them, their voices could never compare to her own.

The goddess holds him close, bumps his nose with her own and makes a promise; she tells him for as long as he shall live that this temple was as much his home as it were his own. That even when this body of his does die, she will seek him out in the Elysian Fields, lie at his feet as he had done her own; that no matter what may come, they will never be apart.

[kpop---scenarios]

Babysitter

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x Reader

Genre: Professor au

Warning: Smuuuut [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested by: @stanskzot8

“Y/N! Are you coming out with us tonight?” Your friend, Hyunjin asks.

“I can't.” You groan. “I agreed to babysit for this lady my mom knows tonight.”

“Boo.” He chuckles. “Well what time are you gonna be done?”

“I have no clue. I'm hoping she won't be too late though. But I'll text you when I'm leaving and let me know where you are.” You grin. He gives you a smile and kiss on your cheek before he walks off to his class. You head to your last class, with the best looking professor in the entire school.

“Hi, Mr. Yang.” You smile, passing your professor. You watch as he smiles slightly back at you, looking you up and down before acting like he's busy, looking down, ruffling with papers.

You slide into your seat, and spend the entire class watching him, the way he talks, the way he walks around the front of the room, the way he smiles while he talks and your heart just melts. You wanted him so fucking badly, and you didn't know how, but at some point you were going to get him somehow.

“That's it for class. Have a great weekend.” He announces, smiling at everyone. You gather your books and your purse, ready to drop them off at your dorm before heading to the house you were going to be spending a few hours at.

You stand in front of the door, knocking a few times as the cool air surrounds you. It was cold and you really wished she would answer the door a lot quicker. You rub your hands together, jumping in the same spot slightly as you wait, until finally the door swings open, and there stands someone you were not expecting.

“Y/N?” He asks.

“Mr. Yang?” You whisper, your mouth almost dropping open in shock.

“What are you doing here? Shit, come in, it's cold.” He says, opening the door a little wider for you to come inside.

“Ah, thank you.” You laugh, walking inside as he closes the door behind you.

“I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting.. you.” He murmurs.

“I was asked by my mother to babysit for someone she knew.. this was the address.” You explain.

“Oh. Oh!” He groans. “That was my ex wife. It's her week and I thought I was going to be in a meeting and couldn't watch our daughter, but things changed and she must have forgotten to tell you. Shit, I'm sorry, Y/N.”

“Please, Mr. Yang, don't worry about it.” You smile.

“Can I uh, get you a drink?” He asks. “And please, call me Jeongin.”

“A drink would be wonderful.” You tell him, taking off your jacket, sitting on the couch.

Thank you, universe, for giving you this opportunity.

“How did you get here?” He asks.

“I just took the bus.. but he said they're not running anymore tonight. It's too cold.” You sigh. “but I will call a cab and get one.”

He nods his head as he drinks his, you assume, whiskey. You take a sip of your drink, the liquor burning your throat as it goes down. You finish your drink, pulling out your phone to call a cab as Jeongin sits on the couch next to you, his legs spread as he slouches.

“Hi, can I get a cab please?” You ask as the operator answers. “Oh.. really? Ah, okay, thank you.” You finish, hanging up the phone. “They aren't running.” You tell him, sighing.

This could not be working out better for you.

“Once my ex gets back, I can bring you home. Unfortunately my daughter is sleeping for the night so I can't bring you right now.” He says.

“That's fine. Do you know how long she'll be?” You ask.

“A few more hours at least.”

“In that case, can I get another drink?” You ask, holding out your cup. He smiles, taking your cup, not before his fingers graze yours, sending shivers down your spine.

You watch Jeongin walk away to pour you a drink, you unbutton your shirt just a little, fixing your hair as best you can before he gets back. He walks back in, you see his eyes dragging up and down your body, he bites his lip as he comes towards you, handing you your drink. You lean forward to grab it, showing your tits off ever so slightly before taking a sip. Jeongin chuckles to himself, running his hands through his hair as he sits next to you.

“How's school going?” He asks, trying to make conversation.

“You don't really wanna know.” You whisper.

He laughs. “No.. I don't.”

“I've seen the way you look at me in class.” You say, looking at him.

“And I've seen how you look at me.” He says.

“I haven't been hiding it.” You grin, shrugging your shoulders.

“But you're my student.” He sighs.

“Yeah, in college.” You giggle. “Sure.. it's frowned upon.” You begin. “But it's not illegal.” You whisper, leaning closer to him.

“You're bad..” he breathes.

“Yes.. yes I am.” You whisper, moving your face closer to his. He breaks the distance, pressing his lips against yours. You open your mouth, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. His hand moves to the back of your head, pressing you against him. You move forward, leaning him back on the couch as you straddle him, your lips never leaving each other's. Jeongin's hands roam your body, grabbing the hem of your shirt to lift it over your head.

Jeongin breaks the kiss, moving to your neck, peppering kisses down your neck, to your collarbone and your chest. He reaches around, undoing your bra, helping you slide it off your body, tossing it elsewhere. He grabs your tits, leaning forward, taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking gently as you grind yourself on him. You can feel his cock harden beneath you. You throw your head back, his hands gripping your bare back as he releases your nipple, you dive back in for a kiss, now pulling his shirt off of him from under you. You drag your hands down his chest, over his abs, groaning.

Jeongin stands up, with you wrapped around his body. He lays you down on the couch, practically ripping your pants off your body, along with your panties. He doesn't say anything as he spreads your legs open wide, licking a strip up your already soaked cunt.

“Fuck.” You groan, grabbing your tits as he licks and sucks on your clit. You arch your back, letting Jeongin slide his fingers deep inside you as his lips latch around your clit, making you cry out loudly.

You can feel your orgasm building quickly, your hand reaching out to grab Jeongin's hair, gripping it tightly as you grind yourself on his face.

“Shit.. you're gonna make.. me..” you breathe as he moves his tongue faster, fucking you harder with his fingers. “Cum.” You scream, your eyes rolling back as your body jolts underneath him.

“So fucking hot.” Jeongin groans, licking his lips, wiping your cum off his face with his tongue. He stands up, unbuckling his pants, letting his cock spring free. You lay on the couch, your legs spread wide open, watching Jeongin get onto the couch, between your legs, holding them up as he lines himself up with you, pushing his large cock deep inside you.

Fuck, he stretched you out good.

You moan loudly as he slowly slides his cock in and out of you.

“Please..Jeongin.” You moan. “Faster.” You beg. “Please fuck me faster.”

You watch his face change, he stares at you as he smirks, his grip around your legs tightening as he snaps his hips, slamming himself into you over and over again. He picks up his pace, fucking you harder and faster, grunting as he rams into you. He reaches between your legs, his fingers grazing your swollen clit, rubbing it, making you squirm beneath him.

“Oh my god.” You cry out, tightening your cunt around him and he continues to fuck you. He releases your legs, letting them spread, keeping his fingers on your clit, laying on top of you pushing himself further inside of you with each thrust. His lips latch onto yours for a quick kiss before moving down your body sucking on your nipples again, his hand rubbing your clit faster.

“Just.. like that.” You groan, your second orgasm right around the corner. “Fuck.” You cry, he releases your nipple, hanging his head down as he snaps his hips faster and harder, his own orgasm looming.

“Cum.” He groans, knowing he can't hold his orgasm back much longer. “Now.” He grunts.

Seconds later, your orgasm hits you, pleasure throwing through your body as you wrap your legs around him. He pushes his cock into you harder as his own orgasm hits. He cums harder, shooting his load deep inside of you. He pants as he pulls out of you, beginning to put his pants back on.

“Bathroom?” You smile, grabbing your clothes and heading into the direction he tells you. As you finish getting dressed, you hear voices. You walk out of the bathroom with a smile on your face as you see Jeongin talking with who you assume is his ex wife.

“Y/N.” She smiles. “My sincerest apologies. I completely forgot to text you and tell you Jeongin was going to be here.” She gasps.

“That's no problem.” You smile.

“Let me take you home, Y/N.” Jeongin smiles, grabbing his keys. “See you later, Chae.” He says to his ex, putting his coat on, as do you before you both leave the house.

As he begins to drive, he looks at you, smiling. “Where am I going?” He wonders.

“How about your place?” You ask, biting your lip slightly.

Jeongin laughs. “Round two?”

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field III

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. this one is the arena bombing scene so yeah, regardless its not graphic so

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a/n: btw this is lowkey becoming a mix of the book and the movie so if there's inconsistencies dw about it lol, its all just a jumbled mess in my head at this point and i am for some reason working from memory

next part

"Wait! Wait! I'm here!" You call out, urging the line of mentors and tributes to wait for you before they enter the arena, running up from your father's town car with a notebook and pencil in hand.

Coriolanus was simultaneously annoyed by your arrival, delayed or not, considering he didn't expect you, and also part of him was relieved to have you at his side. Entering the arena himself was a daunting task, now that he knows that the mentors are far from safe from harm in this situation.

You're slightly out of breath as you catch up to him and Lucy Gray, panting as you adjust your bag where it sits over your shoulder. "Sorry, I'm late." You breathe out, smoothing down your hair.

"Why are you even here, Y/L/N?" Felix asks, turning from his spot in front of you to look.

"Mind your own, for once." You spit, returning your attention to Coryo and Lucy Gray. "Hey, where's Clem?"

Coryo shakes his head slightly as the line starts to move forward. "I'll explain later." He answers vaguely. You're confused, sure, but you did have bigger things to worry about. He was right. You brought your notebook to take notes on the layout, potential hiding spots, and potential advantages that Lucy Gray could exploit in the games.

"Enjoy the show!" You hear the echo from the speakers as every duo enters the arena, and you cringe. 

"That's dark." You mutter to yourself, taking in your surroundings in the tunnel before being among the last few to enter. The first thing you notice is that the arena is bigger in person than on the screen, you hadn't been inside since you were a toddler- before the war. You try and pick your family's box along the top, but it's no use. You don't even have the slightest memory of this place before the games. 

The next thing you notice is Lucy Gray holding onto Coryo's hand as the door slams shut behind you and the windows slide open above you. You grip your pencil tighter in your palm and look down, attempting to scribble down a layout on the page in front of you as you regain a light source. You have one job, and you'll be damned if you don't do it. For now, your best shot at earning Dr. Gaul's favour is giving Lucy Gray an advantage due only to her surroundings. Making her play the game.

"Okay, so, options are limited but I think we just need to have a good look around. There ought to be a good hiding spot around here." You say, clocking how quickly the girl drops his hand.

Focus is a priority, unfortunately, her comfort will have to come second. She'll have time for comfort once you can get her out of this arena and back to Twelve.

"What do you need, Coriolanus?" You ask, noticing he seemingly zoned out taking in his surroundings.

He tries to process what you're asking of him, but just ends up giving you a blank stare as you tilt your head, looking up at the tall boy. "I beg your pardon?" He asks, clearly having not heard a word you said.

"What do you need me to do?" You ask again.

"Well," He starts, and both of you notice at the same time that other tributes are talking and realize that alliances are being built. "Go... do that. Talk to Lysistrata." He instructs and you nod, walking quickly toward where is standing trying to talk to a confused-looking Jessup.

"Lyssie." You grin, flipping to a fresh page of your notebook.

"Y/N, hi." She says, clearly focussed in on trying to get him to pay attention to her. 

"Is he okay?" You ask, feigning worry. Well, if this is Lucy Gray's only option for an ally, her odds are not looking good. That was genuinely worrying.

"I don't know..." Your classmate answers, reaching up to point out a wound on his neck. "He's got this bite... I think it could be infected. Your father is a doctor, what do you think?"

"Can you get him anything to help?" You ask, getting closer to take a better look. It does look infected, and you're unsure what it could be. You raise your hand to touch his forehead in search of a fever, but you suspect you will find one considering he is already delirious.

"Y/N!" You hear your name being called and you turn, seeing Coriolanus gesturing for you to back up.

You sigh to yourself and drop your hand, taking a step back. "I would bring him something but I don't know what would help." Lyssie sighs.

"If you can get him to agree to be an ally to Lucy Gray, I can bring antibiotics. Something strong. I'll discuss it with my father, see what he recommends." You offer, hoping to buy her a friend in the arena. 

"I'll try my best." She nods. "They've been close, I can't see why not."

"I'll bring him something tonight then." You nod, patting her on the shoulder before continuing on your path of selling Lucy Gray as an ally.

You look around the large room again, looking for whoever would be her best option, and whoever of your classmates would even agree to speak with you. Sejanus- of course.

You tuck your papers under your arm as you walk over to him and Marcus. You can quickly see they aren't on any kind of speaking terms, standing awkwardly together on the opposite side of the center. "Sejanus!" You call out, and he's visibly relieved to see that someone wants to talk to him.

"Y/N." He smiles sadly, which you try and return. Empathy has never been your strong suit, but with Sejanus, you always try your best.

"I'm hoping to negotiate the terms of an alliance between Marcus and Lucy Gray." You explain and he nods, clearly unsure what to do. It would be harder to buy their allegiance, seeing as his family had more influence than yours- after all being the namesake of the prize you had dreamt of for years, and Marcus clearly has more of a physical advantage in the games than Lucy Gray.

"Uh, Marcus?" Sejanus asks, looking over at his tribute, who is blatantly ignoring the two of you. "What do you think? What would you like to do?" You admire his consideration, it must be draining when Marcus clearly couldn't care less.

"Lucy Gray would not be a threat to you. If you would take the care to look at either of us directly I would be able to promise you that." You say, taking a different approach that also doesn't work. You sigh, shrugging as you look over at your friend.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Thank you for trying." He tries to smile and you just nod, trying to figure out who you'll ask next.

Then, your eyes land on Clemensia's tribute, alone. He looks strong, definitely the most obvious threat. Having him as an ally definitely wouldn't hurt. While it would be ideal to discuss this with Clem, your options and time is limited. He's standing nearby, just staring at one of the flags on the wall. 

"It's Reaper, correct?" You ask to grab his attention, walking toward him. He spares you a glance over his shoulder, then huffs and turns away. "I have an offer for you, and I believe it's in your best interest to listen."

He doesn't look again, but you step in front of him so he has little to no choice.

"In the case that you win, which," You scoff, looking around at the other tributes, "looks quite likely, I will send you home with enough money in your pocket to feed you and your family for a year if you agree to at the very least not harm Lucy Gray in the games. And if you help her, the deal will be sweeter." You state, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Before he has the chance to respond, not that he was going to anyway, you're being grabbed by the arm and pulled away quickly, making you stumble over your feet. "I told you to keep your distance. Not once, but twice." Coriolanus scolds you, pulling you back toward Lucy Gray, who you can see by now has been crying.

"You told me to talk to people! I'm trying to help Lucy Gray-" 

"No, I told you to talk to Lysistrata." He corrects, dropping your arm and turning to face you. All he can see is Reaper threatening to kill him right in the back of the transport truck on the way to the zoo. Reaper was dangerous- how could you be so stupid? "You are making this so much more difficult than it already is."

You clench your teeth together, clutching your notepad to your chest now. "If you stopped thinking I'm so fragile you would see that I am helping. Don't worry about me- worry about Lucy Gray." You say after a moment of thought.

Coryo exhales heavily, looking around to see who was paying attention to the two of you fighting. The echo in this arena was not doing anything to help. "I didn't mean-"

He doesn't get the chance to articulate his thoughts before there's a loud bang, making you jump and rapidly search for the source of the noise as dust falls over the room. Then another explosion, then another, and by the way the light is disappearing in a circular pattern you can tell the arena is being bombed. 

Your ears are ringing and you're now kneeling on the ground, the force of the blasts having knocked you down. You try and get up, try to make a run for the exit, only to feel an impact on your side, throwing you back to the ground a few feet away and you blackout from the hit of your head onto the dusty cement.

"There she is..." You hear your father's voice as you open your eyes slowly, blinking at the warm lighting above you. "Enough is enough." He says, and you feel a pain in your hand as he removes an IV from under your skin.

You look up at him, trying to shake off the confusion as you sit up. "Just a concussion. You were out for a few hours, if you experience any amnesia symptoms let me know, but I do doubt that will be the case."

You rub your eyes with shakey hands, nodding a little bit as your dad steps away to leave your room, where you are lying in your own bed. "Dad..." You mumble, voice hardly there. 

He stops, looking at you and waiting for you to continue as you attempt to clear your throat. "Is Coryo okay?"

"I just got back from the hospital tending to everyone. Two students died, and five tributes. Coriolanus received extensive burns and bruising, but nothing was broken. He will be fine in a few days." He affirms.

"And Lucy Gray?"

"She is alive, the tributes who didn't escape or die were returned to the zoo. A vet is attending to them, I know nothing about it." He says, already on his way out of the door.

You sigh in slight relief, pushing yourself up fully to try and get moving again. Your whole body is stiff and sore, but you push through. You have a lot to do.

Thankful for your father's home stash of medications, luckily including morphing, you were able to gather medical supplies and get your driver to take you to the zoo. You would visit Coryo later, but you know he would want you to see to Lucy Gray, and so you shall.

As you arrive, you see no such vet in sight, the surviving tributes scattered around the cage, mostly either passed out or attempting to tend to their own injuries. This could be good for Lucy Gray, who looks mostly unharmed.

"Lucy Gray." You say, motioning for her to come over to the bars. She looks over Jessup laying against a rock next to her, whispering something to him before joining you quickly, grabbing the bars between you. 

"is Coriolanus okay?" This is her first question, which you honestly did not expect.

Though you were taken aback by this, you nod. "Yes. My father said he'll be fine, I haven't been to see him yet." You explain, crouching down to dig through your bag for your makeshift medical kit of stolen supplies.

"What do you need?" You ask, searching already for the antibiotics you grabbed for Jessup.

"I'm fine." She insists, which you only confirm when you look her over. "Just a couple bruises, I live to sing another day."

You smile a little bit, relieved to see your tribute is at least in a better state than most of the others. "Good. I'm glad to hear it."

"Do you think Coriolanus will be back on his feet soon?" She asks, clearly very worried about him.

"I don't know." You answer honestly. "It's a good thing you have me."

"It is..." She thinks for a moment. "He said he would try and get me a guitar. For my interview, He wants me to sing." 

"I'll make sure you have one." You nod. As much as you hope he'd be up and moving by the time the interviews come around in a couple of days, you know you have a guitar sitting in your brothers room that Coryo would likely ask you to borrow anyway. "This is for Jessup, I talked to his mentor, I think this should help." You tell her, grabbing the pot of topical antibiotics you took from your cupboard at home and handing it to her. 

Lucy Gray nods, taking it and opening the steel lid, her first urge being to smell the cream inside. "Get him to apply it morning and night, be generous with it." You explain, grabbing some bandages as well to accompany it. 

"You've got a full apothecary in that bag, huh?" Lucy Gray comments, straining her head to try and look inside.

"My father is a doctor." You explain, keeping it brief. "Don't share it with anyone else. Their injuries and ailments are to your benefit. Do you understand?"

Lucy Gray just nods solemnly, looking back at the tributes around her. "I understand." She answers, but she doesn't seem so sure. "You know, he pushed you clean out of the way."

"Sorry?" You ask, brows furrowed as you close your bag, having grabbed out the small paper bag of food for her.

"Coriolanus." She clarifies. "He saved your life, I reckon."

"Oh." Is all you can manage, pulling your bag back to his place over your shoulder. You clear your throat again, the remnants of dust and dirt still affecting your voice. "Well, I owe him a thank you I suppose. I'm off to check on him now."

"Tell him I send my love, won't you? I was awfully worried." 

"I will." You mumble, making an effort to not be aggressive with how you shove the bag of food into her hands before walking off.

Your next stop is the hospital. The pit in your stomach tells you that despite your confirmation that Coryo would be fine, you're still worried as to what state he will be in when you arrive. Is he awake? Will he remember a thing? Did he really save you only to face worse injuries himself?

You're escorted to his bedside when you arrive, a small room in emergency seperated only by curtains. Tigris is sitting next to him stroking his hair gently, and he is seemingly sleeping- or still out cold. It's chillingly difficult to tell. You clear your throat to notify her of your presence, and she quickly stands when she sees you.

"Y/N." She greets you with a hug, gently rubbing your back. "Are you alright? You were there, weren't you?"

"I was." You nod slightly as you pull away, eyes once again trained on your friend. "My father brought me home to be treated there. Is he asleep?"

"Yes, just sleeping. He woke for a few moments about an hour ago, but I think he's just exhausted. Couldn't keep his eyes open for more than a minute..." She sighs, looking him over as well. She's worried, of course.

You nod, chewing on your lip. "Well, I can't stay for long, but I wanted to bring these to him." You say, once again reaching into your bag and pulling out a container of food containing some fruit and cookies. You hold it out to her, and her eyes widen for just a moment. "I'm sure he'll be starving when he wakes up, and the food here is atrocious." You try and ease her panic with a joke.

This works and she nods, accepting it quietly. "I know it's a lot for one person, but I figured you or your grandmother would be here with him. I brought enough to share." You add, implying that she is more than welcome to it too.

"Thank you, Y/N. Thats very kind, I didn't have the chance to grab anything on my way- I came straight from work." Tigris makes up an excuse, and you just nod.

"He asked about you, you know." She whispers, panic now completely replaced with a small smile. "When he woke up. You were his first concern."

You try to ignore the pit in your stomach growing and shifting as she speaks, a flush forming over your chest and face. "Well, apparently he saved me. Would have been an awful waste if that had been for nothing." You deflect, forming it as a joke.

"You are his best friend. You know that, right?" Tigris asks you quietly.

That's unfortunate, you want to laugh, but it would definitely come off as either rude or self deprecating, so you come up with something else. "Coryo means a great deal to me, as well." 

Tigris tilts her head slightly, making it more difficult to maintain a straight face. "I must be going, but if he wakes again will you tell him I'm taking care of Lucy Gray?" You change the subject and she nods.

"Yes, of course. Thank you for coming, Y/N." She says again, and you spare Coryo another look over before leaving.

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[oneshotnewbie]

how about an addison montgomery x reader and finding out reader has abusive parents thanks!!!!!

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of abusive parents. This plot is presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The bright sun shone through the large windows of the waiting room at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital as you paced nervously in the waiting room. The thought of the upcoming check-up with Dr. Addison Montgomery made your heart beat faster even though you repeated this year after year. Despite your fears, you knew it was important to get regular checkups, especially after you noticed some unusual symptoms.

When you were finally called, you followed the nurse through the corridors of the gynecological clinic until you finally stood in front of the door to the treatment room. Once inside, Dr. Montgomery greeted you with a warm smile. "Welcome back, y/n. How are you today?"

You forced a smile, concern for your health and life's obstacles overshadowing your usual demeanor. "Thanks, I'm feeling okay so far. I'm here for a checkup because I've noticed a few symptoms that are worrying me."

Addison nodded understandingly and asked you to take a seat. However, as she began to ask the usual questions, she immediately noticed that something was wrong. Your posture was stiff, your answers were short, and you seemed uncomfortable. Quite the opposite from the last times she had seen you. "Can you tell me about the symptoms you've been noticing lately?" She asked softly and you hesitated for a moment before answering. "Well, I have unusual pulling and pressure in my abdomen. I feel very tired in general but I think that's probably just normal."

The redhead frowned slightly as she began to do the examination. When she gestured with her hand to ask you to sit on the exam chair, you flinched and promptly avoided making eye contact with her. "I´m sorry..." you simply interjected and as you continued to sit on the chair, Addison felt an inexplicable restlessness arise within her.

She watched you carefully as she took swabs and checked to see what was going on. As she did so, she recognized subtle signs of fear and insecurity manifesting in your behavior that she had never seen in you before. It was as if there was something in the air, something unspoken, standing between them and demanding their attention. She could practically feel the tension surrounding you, and her instincts told her that there was more going on here than what seemed like a checkup.

After she had also completed an ultrasound on you, Addison sat down on the lounger next to you and quickly decided to ask carefully. "I want to be honest with you. I noticed some signs during the exams that could indicate something might be wrong. I think it might be helpful if you talked about it." She murmured questioningly, placing a soothing hand on your thigh, making you jump at the touch as well.

You looked at her in surprise, your eyes fixed on her with relief. But only hesitantly did you begin to talk about your concerns, which went far beyond the physical symptoms. "Promise you won't tell anyone?" The person you spoke to nodded at you, giving you time to express yourself. She sensed that there was more here than your body had yet revealed, and she wanted to give you the opportunity to open up when you were ready. "I'm your doctor, y/n. Everything you tell me is confidential."

You swallowed hard before finally finding the courage to say the words you had suppressed for so long. "It's my father," you began hesitantly and the gynecologist listened attentively without interrupting. "Since the pandemic and losing his job, he's... he's not exactly... friendly to me."

The reticence and fear had crumbled as you revealed the truth about your home situation to her. You confessed to the constant insults, humiliation and physical abuse you endured from your father and Addison continued to listen intently, offering you an empathetic embrace of comfort and support as you revealed the painful details of your abuse.

When you finished, an oppressive silence fell across the room. Addison felt the weight of your words on her own shoulders. She felt powerless in the face of the suffering you had to endure at such a young age, an inner anger boiling up towards your parents and at the same time a burning desire deep inside her to help you. "Thank you, y/n, for trusting me," she finally spoke in a quiet voice and rubbed your shoulder reassuringly. This time you didn't flinch. "What has been done to you and continues to happen to you is unacceptable and you deserve to be safe and protected. I will do everything in my power to help you get out of this situation."

The shock of what she had heard was deep within her, but she forced herself to remain calm and empathetic. Her first priority was to reassure you that you were safe and that she would help you. She hugged you gently and held you close to her, giving your tears a place to disappear. "Please believe me when I say that you are safe here," she began to speak to you calmly. "No one will hurt you in front of me and if it happens again, you come straight to me, okay?"

You lowered your gaze, tears glistening in your eyes as you let yourself fall into her embrace, feeling the instant warmth and comfort she offered you. For a moment you felt safe, surrounded by the care of this remarkable woman who was willing to stand up for you. “Thank you, Dr. Montgomery,” you whispered, your voice shaking. "It means so much to me to know I'm not alone."

Addison smiled softly and rubbed your back. "From now on it's Addison. I think we're past the formal part. And of course, I'll help you through the difficult times, and I'll be by your side as long as you need me."

At that moment, you knew you had made the right decision to reach out to her. You felt strengthened by her words and beneath all the vulnerability you showed there was also a spark of hope. Hope that you weren't alone, that there were people who cared about you and were ready to help you when you needed it. You felt relieved that you had confided in someone, and Addison promised to support you every step of the way, whether through further testing, therapy, or any other form of police or court help you needed.

As you left the office, you felt a little more confident with her personal phone number and address. Addison Montgomery, who promised to protect you if your father became abusive again and you needed a place to stay. You knew that from now on you were no longer alone but had found an ally in her in the fight against the darkness that surrounded you.

ᕚ---ᕘ

In the weeks that followed, Addison Montgomery and you developed a deep bond that went beyond the boundaries of an ordinary doctor-patient relationship. She had given you her personal address and phone number in case you ever had to run away from home and didn't know where to go. The gesture of care had touched you deeply and shown you that you were not just a patient, but now also had a friendship that you could rely on.

The conversations between the two of you became more and more open and intimate as you worked together to come up with a plan to get yourself out of the dangerous situation you found yourself in. And one Saturday morning, after you had escaped from your father's attacks and came to her, Addison offered to take you in and give you a safe haven, away from your parents' abuse and humiliation.

At first you were unsure whether you should accept the offer. The fear of the unknown, the worry of the consequences, and the fear of becoming too much for Addison held you back. But in the end, your trust, the hope for a better life and the love that she conveyed to you every day prevailed.

At midnight on that same warm spring night, you packed your few belongings and made your way to Addison's house. As you opened the door, a feeling of relief and freedom washed over you. The redhead welcomed you with open arms and a warm, loving smile that showed you that you were finally safe and that she would never let anything happen to you again.

Over the coming weeks and months, you began to settle into your new home, helping Addison with Henry while she was at work. Under her loving care, you slowly blossomed, gained self-confidence, and finally found the courage to leave your past behind you.

Addison supported you every step of the way in your healing, whether it was through therapeutic conversations, medical care, or just her unconditional love and support. Together you went through ups and downs, but you always stood by each other, determined to overcome the darkness together and step into the light of a better future. Your connection was strong, characterized by mutual respect, trust and love and you knew that you would be connected forever.

[purinfelix]

Helloo, can i request something with Christmas vibes with gavi?

Have a good day!

secret santa ⁺₊❆ ⁺⋆

pairing: gavi x reader (established relationship) summary: your boyfriend starts acting strange around Christmastime and you're determined to get to the bottom of it warnings: none w/c: 1.1k

a/n: okay firstly anon tysm for the request and secondly IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREEVER im literally an idiot who can't process the concept of time and realised Christmas is like ... tomorrow so .... hope you enjoy this !!!

Gavi had been acting strangely lately - at least, stranger than usual. And whilst you didn’t consider yourself the most observant person, even you had managed to pick up on his antics over the past couple of weeks.

It had started around the beginning of December. Usually you didn’t bother to care about what he was doing on his phone because when he wasn’t texting you, he was texting his teammates or coach about football. And he was never private about this either, not even putting a password on his phone and often getting you to answer calls and texts for him. It added a layer of trust to your relationship that you hadn’t expected at first, but had come to appreciate as second nature.

However one day, when you had been planning to carry out your favourite past time - spamming his camera roll with as many dumb selfies of yourself as possible - you had been surprised by a password prompt. And whilst it shocked you a little, you hadn’t worried too much about it, assuming he would casually mention the password to you the next time he needed you to check his phone for him.

But this time never came. Instead, and only adding to your surprise, he stopped asking you to answer his texts and calls. And if this wasn’t enough he became increasingly conscious of you watching his phone screen, often tilting away from you or glancing shiftily at you from time to time before resuming his typing.

And then there were the times away. You were by no means the clingiest partner, not like you had much of a choice when your boyfriend’s training regime was merciless to your already limited time together. But the two of you had managed to forge small pockets of time for each other, and maybe it was their limited nature that made them all the more important - in the concentration of love, affection, of care for one another. Which was why, when these became replaced with quick afternoon texts from Gavi saying he would come home a couple hours late, or when you would wake up on weekends to an empty bed, and a note that had clearly been written in a rush, you found yourself feeling fed up.

So you sought to get to the bottom of whatever had seized your boyfriend up, and caused him to act so uncharacteristically. Sure, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt - he did not seem like the type to cheat, but then again it was a possibility you just couldn’t deem impossible. And a possibility that only haunted you more and more given all of the breadcrumbs he seemed to be dropping.

Your opportunity struck when the two of you were sitting together on the couch watching your favourite Christmas movie Love Actually, which you considered a must-watch given it was almost a week until Christmas. And given that your moments spent together were rare nowadays, you wanted to spend as much time with Gavi as possible. That was, until he muttered to you softly that he had to go to the bathroom, setting down his phone on the couch before he got up.

You waited until the soft padding of his feet told you he was out of the room, then sprung up to grab his unlocked phone. Was a small part of you screaming about how wrong this was, and how you should just trust your boyfriend, yes. But was the rest of you also dying of curiosity, and partially of never-ending worry? Also yes.

That was, until you noticed a notification - a text message from Pedri.

“dude you don’t need to worry - they’ll like whatever you get them”

Your brows furrowed, clicking on the notification you scrolled up several days into the conversation between the two teammates and felt your heart almost shatter. There, laid out in front of you in digital messages was a manifestation of your boyfriend’s utmost love for you as he fretted to his friend about what kind of Christmas gift to get you.

Oh god, you were horrible.

There were pictures of several gifts, necklaces, rings, and stuffed toys, as well as messages figuring out meeting times between the two to visit shops - which you recognised as ones you had often dragged Gavi to on your outings together.

You were truly, really, horrible.

As if this wasn’t enough, a quick glance through your boyfriend’s search history showed a seemingly never-ending array of “romantic gifts for Christmas” and “how to shop for a Christmas gift for your partner”.

You were awful for ever doubting him.

You had seen enough to satisfy your nerves - and to fuel your guilty conscience - and were just about to put his phone back until you heard the creaking of floor boards behind you. Whipping your head around and trying your best to conceal your guilty expression you locked eyes with a shocked-looking Gavi.

“Hi,” you said, more of a gasp of surprise than an actual greeting.

“You,” Gavi’s tone came less annoyed or betrayed, but more of a whine, “You saw?”

You nodded tentatively. “But, I didn’t see what you actually got me! Just some of the messages and searches and-”

He groaned softly as he fell onto the couch next to you, a pout spread across his face and his brows furrowed. “It was supposed to be a surprise!” Guilt overtook you, especially as you watched the defeated expression his face. All you could do was let his phone slip from your hand, bringing it up to cup his face gently.

“I’m so sorry my love,” you cooed, trying your best to sound as apologetic as you could without giving away how endeared you were by this whole situation, by his effort, by him.

“You ruined the surprise…” he mumbled in a defeated tone, although he didn’t move away from your touch, prompting you to scoot closer.

“Hey, I didn’t see the actual gift but I’ll make it up to you” you sighed pleadingly, pecking his cheeks softly before adding “I really appreciate the thought and effort baby.”

The additional line seemed to warm him up as he let out a sigh, “You promise you didn’t see what I got you?”

“Promise.”

At that, he finally broke into a smile - one that was small but tinged with the mischievous look only someone who was planning a big surprise had. And whilst this fuelled a newfound curiosity within you regarding what exactly it was he got you, you couldn’t help but relish in the comfort of your new finding as you ran your fingers through your boyfriend’s hair, smiling as he leant into your touch.

[catherinnn]

Thigh High Boots

request: @kellyxo1 asked "Idk if its weird it just popped into my head but maybe a eddie x reader where hes been busy with his campain and paying no attention to reader and she teases him with wearing thigh high boots and nothing else and she teases him and they make love"

warnings: SMUT +18, p in v, oral (f), fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cursing, not proofread sorry :)

words: 2k

masterlist

“Baby, I’m back!” you shout from the door closing it.

“Hey” he says without taking his eyes off the sheet of paper he’s writing and drawing on.

“You’re still with that?” you complain.

He has spent the entire afternoon writing the new campaign. He was having a hard time with his creativity and imagination lately. He couldn’t think of anything, nothing that was good enough. You were gone for a couple of hours to help Robin buy a new outfit to wear for a date she has —and you bought something for yourself too while you were there.

“Yeah, I had to start again” he quickly answers. It was the truth though, at first he started with something, but as he read it again, he realized it was too basic, he had definitely wrote something similar before. So he threw that away and forced himself to keep thinking until he got something good. He started with a new idea, but he still was having a hard time. He had to finish it though, the campaign was in three days.

“Eds, you’ve been with that all day” you complain again.

“Shh, wait, wait” he lift a hand making a stop sing so he could keep writing.

Your eyes widened at this attitude, you were clearly bothering him. He kept writing, completely ignoring you. You sigh and walk away thinking of what you could do.

More time passes, maybe half an hour, and he still didn’t even lift his head from the paper. You could see his frown or his stressed expression, cursing under his breath or mumbling something to then write it on the paper in front of him.

You sigh louder. Nothing.

You get into the bathroom with what you bought. Closing the door and opening the box inside the bag, you take out your new thigh high boots. Black, leather, shiny.

You have had your eye on them for a while, and when Robin asked you to come shopping with her you had your opportunity to finally purchase them. You came home exited to try them on and show them to your boyfriend whom you were a 100% sure would go crazy over them.

The problem was he’s ignoring you. But you have an idea.

You take your clothes off. Shirt, pants, shoes, underwear. You put the boots on and you feel powerful, sexy, confident.

You walk out of the bathroom with a smirk, feeling yourself. Eddie’s still clueless, eyes and attention completely taken by his work.

You walk over to him until you’re behind the chair he’s sitting on. You hug him from behind, slowly passing your hands from his shoulders to his arms and land on his torso.

He keeps erasing words on the paper and writing over them.

“Eds, can I get your attention for just one second?” you whisper on his ear.

“Mhm”

You walk a few steps to stand in front of him, still touching his arm with one hand.

His face changes so beautifully. From a stressed frown and faintly pursed lips, to a slightly open mouth, doe eyes going up and down your body, not deciding what to land on. Your pretty face, startling breasts, voluptuous hips, or black thigh high boots making him go week on the knees.

“I wanted to show you what I got today, do you like them?” you say innocently, like you’re not completely naked but the sinful pair of boots on you.

He whispers your name, almost whimpering.

You very slowly spin around to show him all sides of the boots on you, but the boots weren’t the only thing he was looking at. Gazing at your back and ass first.

“What do you think?” you tease.

“Baby” he definitely whimpers now. “Fuck”

“What? What do you want” you softly ask him.

“Want you” he simply says.

“Okay” you move the notebook and the pens on the table to a side, forgetting about them, and take a sit on the table right in front of him. You open your legs planting your covered feet on either side of him on the chair. His gaze goes straight to your pussy. “I think you know what to do now”

His face quickly shoves into your centre and you moan surprised. He starts making out with your pussy making you even more wet.

“Mmh, slowly baby” your hand stokes his hair and he slows down running his tongue through your folds. “Fuck”

Then he focuses on your clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, his hands grabbing your thighs that are on both sides of his head. “Eddie, you’re doing so good baby”

He moans at the praise and you keep talking to him, making his erection hurt. “Right there, what a good boy, so good for me baby” One of his hands leaves your thigh to start palming himself through his jeans.

“You better not be doing what I think you are” you say and his eyes open to watch you with guilt. “Are you touching yourself without asking me first?”

“Please, it hurts” he complains.

“Never told you to stop eating me out” you order and he goes back to your pussy. “You were doing so well, why do have to misbehave?” you say disappointed. “First you ignore me all day acting like I’m not here and paying more attention to your game than me, and now you’re not even grateful I’m not punishing you but also you touch without permission”

His tongue stops moving, he slowly pushes his head back and a smug smirk forms on his face.

“What are you doing?” you ask getting angry.

“You’re such a spoiled brat” he laughs pursing his lips. “Was that why you did all that fucking show for? Cause you needed attention?”

“Eddie-“

“No. Get off the table and turn around” he orders now. You move slowly still doubting. “Quicker baby” he mocks your tone from before.

You stand facing the table with him now stood up behind you, no longer sat down. He pushes you down so your front is pressed against the table. You moan surprised. His hands run through your back, your ass and your legs covered by the boots.

“I love these new boots by the way, you look absolutely sinful with them” he says. His hands go back up to your ass, groping it, and smacking it once. One hand lowers to your core, running his fingers through it and slowly pushing two in, you moan. “Such an attention whore” he goes quicker, you can hear the squelching from how wet you are.

His thumb starts working on your clit and you try to hold onto something but all you find is the endless table. You don't even try to be quiet while his fingers work inside of you, he curls them touching just the right spots.

You clench around his fingers and he notices. “You’re gonna cum baby?” He asks and you nod. “Answer me, use your words”

“Yes, Eddie!” you moan. And just when you’re about to release, just when you were feeling the pleasure build up in your belly, it suddenly stops, he took his hand out. A whine comes out of your mouth before you could even think about it, a sign of complaint.

“You think you can act the way you did and still cum anytime you want?” he asks sarcastically. “Such a slut, coming out naked wearing only these fucking boots, just for me to look at you for a bit. Was it too long of day without my attention on you? I don't know how you did it before me, princess"

If he was hoping for an answer he didn't get one. I don't think the right expression for your state right now could be 'fucked out' because you didn't even get to cum. Maybe it was because of that, your mind could only think of his fingers, arms, torso, tattoos, neck, lips. His dick. Basically just Eddie.

Eddie Eddie Eddie.

Who, speaking of, lifts your upper body so you're standing up against him. "You okay, princess?" he softly asks, no longer teasing or rhetorically asking.

You nod you head. "Just want you, please, Eds"

"Want you too, baby" He confesses, you can tell he's softer now. He takes his shirt off and lowers his pants along with his boxers. He takes a sit on the chair behind him and helps you turn around so you can sit on his lap. "Are you comfy there?"

"Mhm, very" you bite your lip and give a smile.

He starts kissing you, bringing your body even closer to his, chest to chest. His hands run all of your back, to your ass and thighs. Your hands tug at his hair which makes him groan against your mouth.

It's a heated kiss, to show how much you need each other right now. He positions the head of his cock on your entrance and you understand what he wants. You push it in, slowly, until it's all in. He groans louder, you moan higher.

You start going up and down with his help, he's holding your hips and guiding your moves. Up and down, side to side, front to back. Moves that just make it feel amazing.

You keep kissing, swallowing each other's moans that are louder and louder each time. He kisses your neck, or more like attacks it with kisses, licks and bites that leave marks behind.

"Fuck, Eddie!" that's all you can say, a variation of profanities and his name. But he loves it and drives him crazier than anything else.

He grabs your hips harder holding you in place and starts bucking his thrusts upwards hitting your spot even harder.

"Eddie! Oh, fuck!"

"Princess, fuck, you make me go feral. I fucking love you so -mghh" his voice is groaning and he the only thing he can think of is harder, faster.

You start playing with your clit and he's mesmerized by the sight. Your pussy swallowing him and taking every inch of his fat cock, your puffy and wet clit being played with by your tiny and delicate fingers. He moans louder.

You watch his pretty face, he's checks are red and a slight layer of sweat is making his skin shiny, his mouth is opened in a rounded position, and his eyes are fighting to stay open just so he could watch you.

"Yes baby, play with your clit, fuck you're so wet you're dripping onto my lap, so fucking tight"

Your other hand placed on his shoulder starts grabbing harder pushing your nails into his skin. Your moans are incontrollable.

"'m cuming!" you manage to say.

"Yes please, cum for me, cum on my cock, make a bigger mess baby" he begs and it makes you cum right there with a scream. He keeps fucking into you. "I'm almost there, sweetheart, oh fuck I'm-"

He groans against the skin of your shoulder, grabbing your hips even harder, leaving the marks of his fingerprints. He stops moving once all of his cum is inside of you.

After a few minutes of catching your breath, Eddie helps you to the couch and takes care of cleaning you up.

“Now every time you wear those boots, I’m gonna get hard” you laugh at his joke.

“I’m gonna wear them often, then” you joke now.

“I’m sorry for being a dick today, I shouldn’t have ignored you like I did” he states. “It’s just I’m running out of ideas and I have the campaign is in three days and I feel like everything I have so far is shit”

“It’s fine Eds, I’m just worried about you, I don’t want you to overexert yourself” you explain. “I know you’re against postponing the campaigns but maybe you should consider it. They would understand… and if they don’t I’m gonna have a talk with them”

In the end, Eddie did postpone it for next week. Gareth and Mike were the only ones who got mad, but after Dustin had talked to them, they finally understood.

Dustin had been worried about Eddie too, noticing how stressed he got every time the campaign was mentioned, and was the first one to defend his dungeon master before you even had the chance.

You helped Eddie write the campaign. You read what he had so far and realized you were right from the start, he was overthinking it. But you helped him change the things he didn’t like and helped him with the ending. Finally the campaign was held on Monday, so didn’t waste any more time.

[crossvise]

Summary; your girlfriend is worried that you might end up injuring yourself badly during one of your match- you’re known and loved for always taking high risks.

Warnings; none.

As I started writing this, I imagined reader with a wrestling style similar to Iyo Sky and Shotzi.

Fluff and angst.

Making your way to the top in a company as huge as the WWE was hard to say the least, not many had this opportunity but when you had the chance to show the world you deserved your place here, people were quick to love and admire you and your love for taking risks.

That’s how you made a name for yourself, you were known to take way too many risks, you weren’t scared of hurting yourself or to be in pain- the higher the risk was, the more excited you were. It honestly thrilled you to jump from ladders, to go through tables or chairs- nothing like this scared you.

The only one who wasn’t thrilled to watch you put your life on the line every week or so was your girlfriend- you had been together for over a year and at first, she didn’t seem to mind your wrestling style that much. That changed when the creatives decided that Gionna and you would have a run at the Tag Teams Championship.

You had been on the main roster for a couple of years now, you had seen so many stages in the making, yet coming as he was still being build never failed to take your breath away. It was so big and honestly, seeing a stadium this big, still empty, was just as intimidating as when it was full.

Moments like this were some of your favorites- the calm before the storm. Seeing so many people working on getting the stage ready affirmed your love for what you were doing. Just like everyone else, you had moments of doubt but a moment like this always reminded you how your choice to pursue a wrestling career had been the good one.

Sitting down on one of the chair in the crowd close to the ring, you watched the people working on the chamber until your girlfriend sat down on the chair next to you. Wrapping her arm around your shoulders, Gionna leaned in to kiss you, “ hey baby, been looking for you!”

“ Sorry, I lost track of time. What’s up?”

“ I was just missing my girlfriend. It’s impressing, isn’t it?”

You nodded as you gave a look at the chamber, impressing was an understandable, “ intimidating even. I can’t wait for the match!”

“ So do I- can I ask you something, though?”

“ Sure, what is it?”

“ As much as I’m excited for the match, I’m worried- I’m scared you’re going to hurt yourself, baby.”

A gentle, reassuring smile tugged at the corners of your lips, taking Gionna’s hand in yours, you wanted to reassure her that nothing bad would happen to you, “ babe, I’ll be fine- really, you don’t have anything to worry about. You know me and you know I always end up being fine.”

“ But what if one day you’re not? What if you land badly and hurt yourself?”

“ It’s part of our job, you know it just as well as me. And I trust every single one of you I’ll be in the ring with, it will be okay.”

Lately, it became more recurring to reassure your girlfriend about the risks you were taking mostly to entertain the crowd, but also because you loved it. You didn’t mind having to repeat that you would be fine every time, she had every rights in the world to be worried, “ still! An accident can happen so quickly.”

“ I know and I promise to not do any non-rehearsed move, okay?”

“ Thank you.”

Gionna seemed content with your answer as she relaxed. You stayed there for a bit before having to join in for your media obligations- you didn’t mind those most of the times, they could be fun, especially if you weren’t alone. You had a couple of interviews with your girlfriend, so you knew you were going to have fun.

The day of Elimination Chamber came so quick, it felt as if you had won your qualifying match yesterday. To say you were absolutely thrilled for your match was an understatement, you just couldn’t wait to show the world why you were considered one of the best wrestlers at the moment.

Making your entrance after Gionna, you passed by her pod and blew her a kiss, she shook her head with a smile on her face- even while in characters, you couldn’t help it honestly, you had to show love to your girlfriend. The crowd always loved to see those little silly but cute interactions anyways.

As the match was at its peak, only Naomi had been eliminated as of now, you took the opportunity that everyone was focused in the ring to climb up on one of the pods. Tiffany seemingly had the same idea as you as you both ended up on top of the same pod while the crowd was going wild.

You didn’t have much time to execute your move but it had been repeated many times in training- with a springboard dropkick, you made Tiffany fall, leaving you with enough room to execute your plan. You quickly looked at Tiffany to make sure she was alright after that fall, you might not be scared to hurt yourself but you were terrified at the thought of injuring a friend.

Thankfully, she took the fall like a champ and seemed alright and with that to ease your mind, you executed a springboard moonsault, landing on Liv, Becky and Bianca. As planned, they caught you well and the move didn’t hurt much.

In the end, Becky was the winner as she seized the opportunity to pin down Liv after she eliminated you not even a second before. The outcome was truly disappointing, you didn’t mind not winning and not getting a shot at the title but Liv did and you wished she was the one getting the Wrestlemania’s match.

After a while in the locker room, Gionna finally joined you, she had stayed backstages longer than you, you smiled softly at her, “ this was one hell of a match, i’m proud of you baby!”

“ I’m the one who’s proud here, you literally stole the show babe.”

“ Do I get to say that I told you everything would be fine?”

You saw her raise an eyebrow at this, “ so you’re telling me you’re not all bruised up? That when we cuddle tonight, I won’t see bruises?”

Shrugging, you didn’t really care about bruises, they would eventually fade after a couple of days, “ it’s not that bad and I’m barely hurting- plus what I did was cool as hell!”

Gionna stayed silent for a couple of seconds, as if she was hesitating to choose her words, “ okay fine, it was cool as hell but it still scared me.”

Now, you knew why she was hesitant to say this- she knew you weren’t going to let it go any time soon. You smiled ear to ear, proud to hear that your girlfriend found what you had done during the match nice, it was probably the first time she complimented your risky moves- you’d usually only get compliments on more classic ones and it made you really happy to hear that.

[jadewolf22]

Agent Outcast Pt. 2

Fem!OC (Arania Northfire) x Larissa Weems 

Warnings: smut, fingering, eating out, strap sex, orgasm denial, safe word usage, ect…

Word Count: 1,880 

A/n: You guys really seemed to like Pt.1 so here's Pt.2...enjoy?

You drove back to Nevermore with your mind in a haze. Adrien was having you stalked; it was the only way to explain how he knew about you and Larissa and, considering he never left the warehouse, he would have to have someone else watching you. You knew you needed to tell Larissa but the thought of losing her held you back. The angelic blonde was the only good thing in your life; you would do whatever necessary to keep her with you.  

You got back to Nevermore and found Larissa in the same spot you’d left her in. She had dozed off on the couch, her book open in her lap. You smiled, setting your things down on her desk before gently trying to shake her awake.  

“Time to wake up, beautiful.” you whispered into her ear, “Coffee’s here.” 

“Mmm . . . coffee . . .” Larissa mumbled, rolling onto her side and ignoring you, continuing to sleep.  

“Larissa,” you said a little louder, “come on baby, time to wake up.” 

Other than a small groan Larissa gave you no answer. You sighed, pulling your phone from your pocket, activating your alarm and holding your phone to her ear as you set off the alarm, the blood-curdling scream that was your alarm noise waking Larissa up instantly. She snapped up into a sitting position, looking around wildly as you burst into laughter. 

“That was not funny!” Larissa gasped laughingly, playfully smacking your shoulder. 

“No,” you said between laughs, “it was hilarious!” 

Larissa mumbled incoherently under her breath, seething as she pushed herself off the couch, glaring at you while she waited for your laughter to die away.  

“I’m sorry,” you said, though you didn’t actually mean it, “but, come on Ris, you have to admit that was kinda funny. “ 

“I don’t have to admit to anything.” Larissa said coolly, though a playful smile was spread across her lips.  

Mimicking her smile, you came up behind Larissa and pulled her against you, planting a kiss on her neck as you said, “I love you . . . Now, let’s drink that coffee before it’s room temperature.” 

Larissa chuckled, prying your hands off of her and grabbing both of your coffees off her desk, handing you yours as she began to sip from hers.  

“They had your favourite, today.” you said, nodding to the little brown bag as you sipped from your coffee.  

“Pumpkin spice?” Larissa asked, her bright eyes glimmering happily. 

“Yep,” you said with a laughing smile, watching as your girlfriend tore open the bag, inhaling the scent from the muffins.  

“You didn’t have to do this!” Larissa squealed, biting into one of the warm muffins. 

“I hoped it might make up for my attitude this week,” you said softly, a sad edge to your voice, “I know I haven’t exactly been acting like myself lately . . .” 

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?” Larissa asked, a shadow of concern forming behind her bright blue eyes.  

“Nothing’s wrong.” you lied, shaking your head, “I’m just a little stressed this week, and I guess it’s showing more than I thought.” 

“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” Larissa stated, “What’s really going on?” Now was your chance; You had the opportunity to tell her what exactly was happening but you refused to take it, saying instead, “I’m fine. It’s just some personal problems; I told you that.” 

Larissa sighed, her facial expression making it clear she didn’t believe you.  

“I’m going to bed.” you stated with a small sigh, throwing away the last quarter of your coffee before retreating to Larissa’s bedroom.  

You sighed again, heavier this time, as you rid yourself of your day clothes and slipped into a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt you kept in Larissa’s room for overnight stays. Larissa came in after you, kicking off her heels and tossing her blazer onto a nearby chair.  

“Can you help me?” Larissa asked, motioning to the zipper on the back of her dress. 

“Ya, I’ve got you.” you said, walking over to her.  

You ran your hands up the sides of her body coming to stop at the zipper of her dress, slowly unzipping it before sliding it off her body. With a snap of your fingers her bra had been removed and she too stood in a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt.  

“Come sit on the bed and I’ll help you take your hair down.” you whispered, planting a gentle kiss behind her ear.  

Larissa hummed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you sitting down right behind her. Soft sighs began to escape Larissa as you unpinned her tight updo, massaging her scalp as you removed each pin until her silvery blonde hair fell past her shoulders in waves.  

“There. Doesn’t that feel better?” you teased as Larissa turned to face you. 

“It does,” Larissa admitted, looking into your icy blue eyes, “What can I do to help you destress?” 

“ . . . You can let me use you however I want,” you whispered huskily, your eyes darkening with lust.  

“Done,” Larissa whispered with a smile before moving to lay on the bed the way she knew you liked her.  

“Really?” you whispered, your tongue toying with your bottom lip, “Just like that?” Larissa nodded eagerly and you chuckled, whispering, “You love being Mommy’s little whore, don’t you?” 

As you watched Larissa continue to nod eagerly , her eyes begging you to fuck her, you felt an ache building up in your heated sex and you growled, taking Larissa up on her offer.  

You tore off both of your clothes, peppering Larissa’s body with kisses and hickies, your naked bodies flushed against one another.  

"Safe word?" you asked before attaching your lips to one of her breasts. 

" . . . Black . . ." Larissa moaned. 

You smiled, moving kisses down her body before viciously attaching your lips to her clit, sucking on it harshly as you pumped a finger in and out of her core. Larissa screamed, her hands weaving themselves into your hair. You groaned against her, teasing her bud with your teeth as you slipped a second finger into her.  

"Ari–! Ari–! Oh shit, Ari!" Larissa cried arching her back off if the bed, "Fuck–! Ari please, can I cum?!" 

"Go ahead, darling." you whispered.  

The words had barely left your mouth before Larissa came, her cum milking your fingers and her thighs. You moaned at the sight, hurrying to lap the cum off her thighs and your fingers. Smiling at her, you slid up so that you were straddling her hips again. You reached into a drawer in her nightstand, pulling out a small black vibrator.  

"Don't cum until I say you can." you whispered with a dangerous smirk, turning the toy on and placing it on her clit. 

Larissa gasped as the toy began to tease her and you smiled, sliding up so that you were straddling her face. 

"Eat me out, baby." You commanded.  

Larissa groaned, slipping her skillful tongue into your aching core.  

"That's it, baby. That's it," you moaned, bucking your hips into her face, "Eat me out– Eat mommy out like the whore you are– Oh, GOD!!" Your whole body was shaking; Larissa already had you on the edge, "Keep going baby. Make mommy cum–!" 

With a final flick of her tongue you came, riding out your high on Larissa's face.  

You smirked, sliding down and placing more kisses and hickies over her body, the vibrator still attacking her clit. Larissa moaned and whined, squirming beneath you, trying desperately to get some sort of friction.  

"You'd best stay still unless you want me to spank you." you growled in Larissa's ear, your hand wrapping around her throat and squeezing gently. 

"Ari, please . . ." Larissa whimpered, looking at you with puppy-dog eyes, "Please, let me cum." 

"No." 

Larissa moaned pleadingly, arching her back off the bed but you weren't going to give in so easily. Sliding down her, you grabbed the vibrator, pressing it harshly against her clit. Larissa screamed, her legs tightening around your head. You laughed, taking the vibrator and sliding it up and down her slit, teasing her entrance.   

"Ari!" Larissa cried, her body trembling, "Ari! Ari, please – I can't –" 

Feeling her body trembling, you knew she was hanging on the edge so you turned off the vibrator, pulling it from her. Larissa groaned, shutting her eyes. You chuckled, placing the vibrator back in the drawer and trading it for a large, red strap.  

"Colour, baby?" you asked, slipping on the strap. 

"White . . ." Larissa whimpered, as you began teasing her entrance with the head of the faux cock.  

"Good," you hummed before sliding the thick strap into Larissa.  

You waited until Larissa had adjusted to the size of the silicone cock before beginning to move, sliding nearly all the way out before thrusting back into her.  

Within seconds you had her tethering on the edge again, and this time she couldn't stop herself. With a broken scream, she came, her juices coating the red strap. You looked down and scowled, your eyes a midnight blue due to the lust you felt.  

"Get up and bend over the bed." you growled dangerously, pulling out of her. 

As much as she wanted to object, Larissa knew she was already in trouble so she obliged, moving as quickly as her body would allow. You snatched the vibrator from the drawer turning on and setting it to go at an incredibly slow and rough pace before shoving it into Larissa's cunt, coming to stand behind her.  

"You cum again and I will be leaving handprints on your ass," you growled in her ear, your voice becoming more and more animalistic, "Make a sound and I'll make sure the whole school knows who you belong to. Do you understand?" 

Larissa nodded, and you smirked, roughly thrusting into her ass.  

Larissa bit down on her lip to stifle the screams and moans in her throat, grasping the sheets as she fought to follow your instructions. She needed to cum so badly but you would not let her, the vibrator torturing her cunt while you pounded into her from behind. Every part of her ached, and her vision was beginning to blur. Her stomach felt as if she had just swallowed coals and her lungs were finding it difficult to take in oxygen.  

"Black; BLACK!!" Larissa screamed, tossing her head back as tears spilled from her eyes. You stopped immediately, gently pulling out of her and removing the vibrator.  

Picking her up and placing her back on the bed you asked, "Was I too rough, baby?" 

"No . . ." Larissa whispered, shaking her head, "I'm just sensitive tonight . . ."  

You smiled gently, summoning a damp washcloth and cleaning Larissa and the toys before pulling Larissa into your arms as the two of you cuddled, your arms wrapped around her, her head resting in the crook of your neck.  

"Thank you, baby." you whispered, stroking Larissa's hair, "I'm sorry I haven't been acting in the best manner lately."  

"It's okay." Larissa mumbled, slowly drifting off to sleep in your arms. 

You smiled, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek before snapping your fingers, the covers from the bed moving from under to over you as you slid down on the bed, your head resting against Larissa's as you too drifted to sleep.

[its-the-pilot]

Waves | 6 | Rooster x Reader

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

This chapter is a little longer than I was expecting, I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: You and Bradley make a decision. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 3.4k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Message or comment to join the taglist!

Chapter Six

The weeks that followed the kiss on your front porch proved to be hectic for both you and Bradley. Your schedules had become jam-packed with early mornings and late nights, leaving few opportunities for you to spend time together.

Fortunately, the whispers and stares that followed your outburst had died down and you felt comfortable spending a night out at the Hard Deck again, so you had made plans to meet there after work. That’s where you found yourself nursing a glass of wine and checking your phone every few minutes, hoping for a text from him.

Penny wiped down the bar as she prepared for the Friday night rush, casting a knowing glance your way. Her eyes took in the fitted navy blue dress you had worn to work that day and offered an appreciative nod. “You look cute tonight, honey,” she smiled. “How late is he?”

Looking up from your phone, you took another drink of your wine before answering. “Almost an hour. I texted him and he hasn't said anything yet, but I doubt he's still in the air, the others are here already.” You sighed, motioning toward the pool table not far from you, where the other aviators were hanging out. “I thought things were going so well, and I just… what if he changed his mind?”

Penny nodded in understanding and reached across the bar to take your hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re overreacting, hon. Men in uniform, especially aviators, have unpredictable schedules, you know that. There’s probably a perfectly good reason for why he’s late. Give him a chance to explain.”

You squeezed her hand back in silent thanks and smiled when you heard a familiar voice behind you. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but you’re looking for Bradshaw?” 

Turning your head, you found Jake standing there holding a pool cue. “Yeah… do you know where he is?”

“Probably still back at the hangar,” he offered, moving to sit on the stool next to yours. He had been half listening to your conversation with Penny since you sat down, curious to know more about the woman that had Rooster smiling lately. He'd tried getting it out of the man himself, but was unsuccessful. “Got stuck doing push ups after his flight.”

It was common knowledge among those who worked with the pilots in training that any screw-ups in the air led to some sort of correction on the ground. In recent years, that correction had taken the form of push ups numbering in the hundreds depending on the infraction. 

“What happened?” You asked,  shifting to fully face the blonde as Penny attended to other customers. Jake had come by your office for sessions a few times since your first encounter, and you were starting to build a rapport, seeing the real man behind the Hangman mask. 

He passed the pool cue he was holding to another aviator, his shrug conveying a sense of indifference. “He was just being Rooster.”

With an eye roll, you finished your wine and set the glass aside. Callsigns and how they were determined had always seemed silly to you and for the most part, you chose to ignore them. “I don't know what that means, and something tells me I don't want to.”

“He doesn't take any risks. Always waiting for the perfect moment,” he elaborated, resting his elbow on the counter. He was wearing his civilian clothes tonight, a pair of well fitted jeans with cowboy boots and a t-shirt that said Fly Navy on it, his sunglasses hanging from the collar. 

“So he’s cautious. Sounds like a good thing to me, especially if he’s looking out for his wingman.” You ordered another glass of wine for yourself and a beer for Jake when Penny passed by.

Jake thanked you for the beer, but shook his head at your statement. “He has to be able to take the shot, even if the conditions are less than ideal, and he doesn’t. At least he didn’t today.” He considered you for a moment, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips. “You ever fly one?”

“Only in training, but I go up a few times a month with different pilots for research.” Although you had earned your wings during your training, it was your least favorite part of the job, though undeniably necessary. 

His grin widened and he leaned in, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the music as the jukebox kicked on “Maybe I can take you up sometime, show you how it’s done.”

That was what Bradley saw when he walked into the bar, still wearing his flight suit, the top half tied around his waist exposing the black t-shirt he wore underneath. He hadn’t changed, wanting to get to the bar as soon as possible since he was over an hour late.

It didn’t take him much time at all to cross the bar, his eyes narrowing as he approached you and Jake, his emotions clearly running high. He couldn’t hide the pang of jealousy he felt when he saw you laughing at something the blonde had said. He called your name just before he reached you, wrapping his arm around you possessively and pressing his lips to yours when you looked up, your eyes wide with surprise. 

He felt your body tense under his fingers, the initial flicker of panic running through you before you realized it was him and he smoothed his hand over your back, a silent apology for startling you. 

Jake leaned back against his bar stool, taking a swig from his beer, a devilish smirk playing on his lips as he watched the scene in front of him. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the man of the hour. How’d those push-ups treat you, Rooster?”

When Bradley finally broke the kiss he looked over to the other aviator, his arm still wrapped around you. “No problem, Hangman. It was arm day anyway,” he quipped, motioning between you and Jake. “What’s goin’ on with you two? Having a good night?”

“Just offering Doc a flight, to show her how it’s supposed to go,” Jake replied, seeing the flush creeping up on Bradley’s cheeks as he continued to tease him. 

You found yourself caught in the middle, feeling like a toy they were fighting over. “Children…” Shaking your head, you turned to Jake with a polite smile. “I was just telling him it was unnecessary. I already have my flights for the month scheduled. Thank you for the offer though, Lieutenant. I’ll see you around.”

Hangman looked as if he had more to say, but he thought better of it, choosing to back down as you dismissed him. He stood and gave you a two-fingered salute before heading back to the pool tables, leaving you alone with Bradley. 

Once you were in private, you turned and smacked him in the chest, earning a grunt of surprise from him. “What the hell was that?” You hissed, your cheeks flush with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. His unexpected entrance was clearly fueled by jealousy over your conversation with Jake, and while you didn’t mind the kiss, you didn’t appreciate being treated like his possession.

Bradley moved to take a seat on the stool that had just been vacated, a look of confusion on his face. “Hangman is only out for himself, Dimples. You gotta be careful around him.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You have got to be kidding me, Bradley. We were just talking. He came over to tell me where you were, since you couldn’t be bothered to do so yourself.” Feeling Jake’s eyes on the two of you from his spot near the pool tables, you decided to defuse the situation by taking Bradley’s hand and leading him out to the deck, away from the growing crowd inside.

“I didn’t have my phone on me, and when I was done I came right over. I didn’t think a text was gonna matter that much.” He tried defending himself, but the look on your face told him he was failing. “I’m sorry.”

With your arms crossed over your chest, you leaned against the railing of the deck and studied Bradley intently. “You used to do this in high school. There’s a difference between being in a relationship and being treated like a possession, Bradley. Besides, we agreed to take things slow.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face, his gaze shifting to the multicolored sky as the sun set. You were right, he had struggled with jealous tendencies growing up, and you had worked hard to help him overcome them. But seeing you again reignited those feelings, particularly when it came to Jake. “The guy just gets under my skin.”

“Well, maybe you should hash shit out with him then,” you suggested, your tone gentle but firm. Conflict resolution and letting go of grudges had never been Bradley’s strong suit, evidenced by his difficulty talking about Maverick even after nearly fifteen years since their last argument. “But stop putting me in the middle. I’m allowed to have friends, and you don’t get to approve or reject them.”

Nodding, he stepped forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his mustache brushing your skin. “Forgive me?”

You looked up at him for a long moment, finally nodding. “This time, Lieutenant,” you warned, giving a teasing smirk as you looked him over, appreciating the flight suit and tight black shirt he was wearing. You typically didn’t like uniforms, but seeing Bradley in one gave you a new appreciation. “If we go back inside, can you behave?”

“Only if you can,” he smirked, a playful glint in his eyes as he noticed the way you were looking at him. Reaching for you, he pressed his body against yours, trapping you against the railing of the bar’s deck as he got the scent of sweat and jet fuel all over your clothes. 

“Stop!” you squealed, laughing as you managed to get him to step back by tickling his side. Once he did, you gave him a light pat on the chest. “Let’s go get you a beer.”

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

The rest of the night went well, the earlier tension fading as you sat with Bradley, chatting about your week while sipping your drinks. At one point, Jake caught your eye from his place near the pool tables and raised his glass in a mock toast. You smiled in return, silently appreciating the way he didn’t let the earlier dramatics bother him. 

Bradley, for his part, kept a watchful eye on your interactions but managed to refrain from any further displays of jealousy. 

When the crowd inside the bar started to thin out, he stood and offered you his hand, the familiar opening chords of REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling” playing on the jukebox. “Dance with me?”

Your face lit up with a warm smile as you recognized the song. “Of course, it’s our song,” you replied, taking his hand. He kept a respectable distance between you, one hand gently on your waist while the other held yours as you swayed to the music. 

As you moved together, you couldn’t help the way it stirred up memories of your past together. “I remember the night we decided on this one.”

Bradley’s eyes were locked on yours, filled with tenderness and nostalgia. “Yeah, me too. Pulling out my mom and dad’s old records and losing ourselves in the music, sleeping on the floor in front of the fireplace… some of my favorite memories are from that night.”

Moving closer, you rested your cheek against his shoulder, your eyes closed as you allowed the memories you had pushed to the back of your mind to resurface. You recalled the cozy nest you created with blankets and cushions, a place where you held each other and listened to music until sleep claimed you. It was the two of you against the world, especially when your uncle was away and you had the house to yourselves, and back then you thought those moments would last forever. 

As the song ended, you lifted your head from his shoulder. “I missed this,” you whispered, your voice filled with longing. 

Bradley tightened his arms around you and placed a tender kiss on the top of your head. “I did too. Honestly, this? Us coming together here, after all this time? Feels like fate. A second chance.”

You pulled back reluctantly, though your hand remained in his as you bit your lip and looked up to him. “Will you take me home? We can talk more there.”

He nodded, fishing his keys out of his pocket and handing them to you. “Go ahead and start the truck, I’ll take care of the tab.”

Taking the keys, you walked out to the Bronco and started the engine before sliding over to the passenger side, waiting for Bradley to return. The engine’s purr seemed to echo the mix of emotions that swirled within you -- trepidation, a touch of excitement, and a sense of anticipation that had been dormant for far too long.

Once Bradley climbed behind the wheel, he put the truck into gear and you exchanged a soft smile, confirming that you were ready to leave.

The drive to your house was quick, not giving either of you much time to think about the feelings that simmered in the air between you. When you moved inside, you settled on the couch beside Bradley, the room enveloped in a warm, comforting glow cast by a lamp.

After a moment of quiet, you took a deep breath and looked into his hazel eyes. “What are you hoping for between us, B? Do you want me to fall back in love with you?” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “'Cause I don’t know how to do that when I never stopped.”

“I never stopped loving you either.” He admitted, his expression a mix of sincerity and vulnerability.

The admission hung in the air between you, a testament to the complex emotions that you both dealt with throughout your time apart. Your fingers idly picked at a piece of lint on your dress, a nervous habit, before you mustered the courage to speak. Your voice wavered, but you pressed on. 

“Then why didn’t you come back?” You asked, your eyes locked onto his, seeking answers.

“Because I… I know this doesn’t make sense,” he tried, his hand gently covering yours in an attempt to offer comfort.

“It doesn’t.” Your response was straightforward, heavy with unspoken hurt that you had carried for years. 

Bradley leaned in, never taking his eyes off of yours. “Alright, please, hear me out,” he pled, his voice soft and sincere. “I wanted to do something good. I wanted to spare you pain.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “You didn’t save me from anything. I lived with that pain every day, Bradley, and I blamed you. I blame you for thinking you knew what was best for me when it was you all along.”

His shoulders slumped under the weight of your words. Releasing your hand, he ran it through his caramel curls, leaving them tousled. “I know,” he admitted, his voice remorseful. His eyes mirrored the way you were feeling, revealing the struggle he had with his past decisions. “I didn’t want you to wait for me. There was so much you wanted to do.”

“I wanted to do all of it with you!” Your voice cracked, a single tear sliding down your cheek. “And I would have gladly waited for as long as it took.”

He swallowed hard, his throat working as he struggled to find the right words. “I don’t deserve you,” he replied, the weight of regret plain on his face.

“Deserve me? Jesus, Bradley, don’t you understand?” You asked, frustration lacing your tone as more tears fell down your cheeks. “When I was alone at night I wanted you! And I cried for you, and I even hated you at times. I hated you because… because I would have chosen you no matter what. And you took that choice away from me.”

“I made a mistake,” he declared, lifting his hand to gently cup your cheek as he brushed the tears away with his thumb. He hated seeing you cry, it broke his heart in ways he didn’t think were possible. 

You couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “Yes, you did.”

“I did,” he confirmed, searching your eyes as he continued. “I hurt you, and I would do anything to take that back. But look me in the eye and tell me you don’t care about me the same way I care about you, and I’ll walk away.”

Shaking your head, your hand lifted to cover his that rested on your cheek. “I can’t.” You felt his hand move, his fingers lacing through yours before resting on your lap. “I do care about you. Which is why we can’t…” you pulled your hand away from his gently.

Every insecurity you had was rearing its ugly head at the same time and there was nothing you could do to stop it. “You’re gonna graduate from TOP GUN and go back to your squadron, on the other side of the country. Who knows when or if you’ll be back. We can’t start something.”

Bradley could sense the anxiety rising in you and frowned, whispering your name. “I’m just as scared as you are, okay? I haven’t felt this for anyone in my life but you. I didn’t think I ever would again, but then you walked up to me at the bar… from the moment I saw you, I knew.”

He was saying all the right words, dismantling your defenses one by one, and you hated that after all these years he still had that power over you. There was something about him, an unwavering confidence you’d never possessed growing up, and that certainty about everything had helped ground you more times than you could count. 

Just being in the same room as him made you feel safe, and it was that feeling that left a Bradley Bradshaw-shaped hole in your life for fourteen years. You had learned to live without him, and now that he was here, practically throwing himself at your feet for forgiveness, you needed to decide if you wanted him back.

“I can’t stop how I feel,” he blurted out after waiting for your response, which had yet to come. “I know… what I’m asking is a lot. I can’t change the past, what I did, how I hurt you… but I want to be a part of your future.”

You finally reached for his hand again as you took a deep breath, your heart heavy with the weight of your decision. “I can’t change the past either, and I won’t pretend I’m not still hurt by what happened. But you’re here, asking for a second chance… that means something.”

Bradley’s face brightened with hope, but you continued with a note of caution. “If you want us to have a future, you have to know it won’t be easy. I’m not the same girl you left, and I’ve had my trust broken a lot, so it’s gonna take time to earn mine.” You paused, your grip on his hand tightening. “If you’re willing to work through this together, to prove that your words aren’t just empty promises, then I’m willing to give us another chance.”

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes, Dimples,” he promised, the relief in his eyes unmistakable. This was what he had been waiting for since he saw you that first night at the Hard Deck. “I’ll spend every day proving to you that I’ve changed, that I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

Your eyes never left his, searching for any signs of deception. When you found none, you closed the gap and kissed him deeply. Bradley responded with equal fervor, pulling you closer until you were comfortably settled on his lap, the skirt of your well-fitted dress bunched around your thighs. 

When you finally parted for a breath, you spoke softly. “Stay. Please.”

“I just got you back,” he smiled, stroking your thighs tenderly. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

Chapter Seven