#I just started typing and I got somewhere

[f1fantasys]

Lost

Summary - lando breaks up with you. Need I say more?

Warnings - dickhead lando, angst angst angst, a bit of smut.

Not proofread. Will be a series.

Things hadn’t been the same for a while now. Day by day, things were shifting - the distance, the late night phone calls, the ‘I love you’s’

His win on Sunday was a bittersweet day, for you at least. You’d just watched the love of your life achieve one of his childhood dreams, but your heart clenched at the same time. Knowing whatever this was - the last 3 years together would soon be thrown away.

You can’t pin point the exact moment that things started changing. You could argue it was in Abu Dhabi last year, the last race when Mcl won the championship. Or it could have been Saudi this year, after his team mate won two back to back races. But somewhere along the line Lando stopped treating you like you were his world.

If you couldn’t attend a race, you’d barely speak, only really when you were the one to initiate conversation. He’d blame it on the time difference, or just tiredness. And you’d believe him.

When he was finally home, maybe after a double or triple header, he wasn’t dragging you to the bedroom for a hard fuck like he used to do. No. Now it was a peck on the cheek, before an excuse about going to golf with the boys, or just exhaustion so he needed sleep. And you’d let it slide.

Yes, he’d give you a quick fuck when he felt like it, but it was nothing to write home about. And more often than not, you’d hear him jacking himself off in the bathroom. But when you’d try to cuddle into him or try to start some form of sexual activity, even if it was just kissing, his mind would be elsewhere, fingers typing aggressively at his phone or letting you go slyly. And you’d let go, not push him.

Arguments grew over time. Over silly, stupid things. Nothing dramatic or nasty. But just frustration from the both of you.

Little things he used to do - whether it was buy you flowers, or tell you you look pretty, or even just a lingering hand on you - it was disappeared. He was slowly floating away from you - or he was letting you float away from him.

Soon even the magic three words weren’t being said. Of course, it was routine for you, you still said it multiple times a day, and maybe, if you’re lucky, you get one back. But it wasn’t something you expected now.

Everything was slowly fading away. Somewhere at the back of your mind, you knew you deserved better. Who in their right mind would stick along for this long without saying something, asking him why, confronting him. Day by day it was getting more difficult, but at the same time, a part of you stuck around because you love him with everything inside of you. He was your end game, or so you thought.

Going back to silverstone a few days ago, yes he held you a little longer that he’d done in the last few months combined, but that was all in front of other people - family, friends, fans, the media. Behind closed doors he was a different person. A guard up almost, hardly acknowledging your presence.

The night out was decent, you’d both had a few drinks in you, and as the night went on Lando did get a bit more handsy, but no where near the level he used to in the past. It felt foreign to you. To be right there with him but at the same time a million miles apart. The banter, small conversation, flirting, had all disappeared.

Safe to say when you got back to the hotel, you were stunned to find Lando in a hurry to strip your clothes off of you, his lips on yours, messy and sloppy, but hard and deep. Your body reacted to his immediately. You’d missed this part of your relationship, and right now you were grabbing the opportunity with both hands. You frantically unbuttoned his shirt, shred his jeans and boxers down before he pushed you back onto the bed. No foreplay this time. Just erratic breaths mingling, hands touching each other everywhere you could, a sheet of sweat glazing both your bodies as Lando finally pumped himself a few times, wasting no time in thrusting into you in one go, hard. You’d both moaned in unison at the stretch, wrapping your legs around him as tightly as possible while he set a quick pace, fucking in and out of your cunt like he was a man starved. Normally by now lando would be whispered filthy words in your ears, telling how good a slut you were for him, but this time the room was just filled with grunts, moans, and the sound of skin slapping against skin, with the occasional noise of sloppy kisses. ‘Lan’ you moaned, biting down on his shoulder when he moved your lips to his neck. ‘I’m close’ you mumbled feeling him move his fingers down to your core, toying at your clit which sent you over the edge in seconds, your body shuddering beneath him as he picked him his pace, chasing his own high now as you eventually came a second time. At some point, he slid out, climbing off the bed while gripping your ankles tightly to pull you to the edge. He sent one foot back on the bed, one rooted to the ground before thrusting back into you, hands tight on your hips, ramming in and out of you relentlessly. ‘Fuck’ you heard him mutter as his movements started faltering, fingers playing your clit again to push you both over at the same time- him spelling his seed deep into you while you whined under him, body flimsy like jelly as lando collapsed on top of you.

But that was a short lived moment of weirdness, because things soon went back to the new normal straight after that.

Today, we were both to attend a Ralph Lauren event in London. The day had actually been enjoyable for once, unruly tension not filling the air because Max and P had been with you guys since the morning, though P slipped the question to you while getting ready for the event.

‘Hey are you guys okay. Lando’s been so detached from you all day, so unlike him’ he shrugged, eyes glued to yours to gauge your reaction.

You were caught off guard, trying to play it cool so to not give too much away, not face your fears.

‘Yeah we’re good’ you replied. ‘Just one of those days’ you said, turning your attention to smoothening out the cute black dress you had on, glad she didn’t ask anything more.

…

Lando held your hand tightly in front of the cameras, dropping small hints of banter but still not what you were used to, and so as the night went on you kept busy by mingling and a taking in a few glasses of champagne, the nerve to forget about your worries taking over.

Much to your dismay, you caught yourself looking over at Lando more often than not, clenching your thighs together a little tighter each time you look him in. The man looked a dream, so incredibly sexy. And once upon a time, by now you’d have text him to come to the bathroom for a quickie, or rather - he’d have been the one to text you. Not now, though.

You both were now on the plane back to Monaco, well past midnight. The ride back, was tense to say the least. Lando was focused on his phone to while time you tried to make small talk to him.

‘Hmm?’ He’d ask you repeat, holding your gaze for all of 5 seconds before looking down at his phone again.

At some point though, something in his clicked, and he swiftly put his phone away to look at you, in a way that made your heart fall into your stomach.

‘We need to talk’ he said, voice soft.

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh with a slight chuckle. ‘Yeah, no shit’ you said, slightly shocked at your reaction, as was he.

‘I just feel like where I’m at with the championship, I need a break’ he said, eyes cold staring back at you.

‘I-a-a-break? From me, you mean?’ You questioned as he nod his head quickly.

‘Why? Why me?’ You asked again when he didn’t speak.

‘Cos you’re always there. Always needy. Just-‘ he sighed. ‘Clingy’

Your breath caught in your throat, tears already slipping down your cheeks. Your head was pounding, too many different thought colliding at once as you tried to ground yourself.

You nodded your head, wiping away at your tears, disbelief that that was his excuse.

‘So for 6 months you’ve strung me along. Made me feel like absolute shit, like I mean fuck all to you - just because I’m clingy?’ You asked.

‘I don’t know. I just know that I need to concentrate on my driving. Not have any distractions. Not have to worry about you needing my attention all the time. Fucks sake. Just need to fucking get away from you honestly.’ He threw at you, making your body instinctively recoil at his words, not knowing who this was in front of you right now.

You knew it was a weak excuse. You were far from clingy. Yes, you treat him how any normal girl would her boyfriend, and in fact, if anyone was clingy in this relationship, it was Lando. It was one his love language, always needing to be close to you, holding or touching you somehow, whether it was when he needed support before a race, after a difficult race weekend, or even at joyous occasions. You were his lifeline. Granted, that’s not how the year so far had been, considering how much he pushed you away, but you weren’t going to allow him to throw you under the bus like this.

‘I don’t believe you. Tell me Lan, for once be honest with me about why you’ve been like this. Why you’ve pushed me away, kept me at arms length’ you threw back albeit your voice cracked about half way through your sentence.

He shrugged. ‘Just feel like I’ve had enough of your shit. You’re suffocating me’ he spat.

You pulled back, arms guarding yourself as more tears stained your cheeks. ‘You don’t mean that’ you stated, voice so soft you weren’t sure if he even heard you.

He chuckled opposite you. ‘Trust me, I mean it. Been keeping this peace, forcing it even. You just don’t excite me anymore. I’m fucking bored’ he said coldly.

‘That’s a new low’ you whispered, more to yourself as you shook, full on trembling in shock.

‘Is it? Or is it just the truth you didn’t wanna hear?’

‘Lando, stop, please’ you begged. You were on a fucking plane, not like you could walk out to protect yourself.

‘Is there someone else?’ You mustered up the courage to ask. Because why else would he drag you down so low?

‘Maybe. And so what if I do? At least she gives me a reason to stay’ he said, jaw tight with his hands fists at his sides.

‘Lando..’ you said his name, quietly, holding so much weight. You wished he’d just apologize, say he was lying, hold you close. But he sat there, arrogant, cocky. Not someone you knew.

By now you needed an out. Your body was on autopilot as you got up from your seat opposite him and made your way to the back of the jet. You heard him mutter something to himself but you couldn’t make out the words.

Was this really happening? Your Lando, being the one causing your heart to break right now? You curled up into a ball, sobbed to yourself.

The rest of the plane ride was silent.

…

It was well past 2pm by the time you’d landed back in Monaco. Calling a cab at this hour would be impossible, and so you had no option but to go home with Lando, in his car.

He was silent as he loaded your baggage into the back of his urus, his jaw clenched and movements rough.

You- sat in your seat, face puffy from all the crying, making an effort to not look at him, knowing it would break you further.

As he drove back, the tension in the car was ungodly, his knuckles white from the steering wheel. This was the smallest you’d ever felt in your relationship and your heart ached at losing Lando.

Back at the penthouse, you grabbed your bags before he had the chance, jolting upstairs and unlocking the door, him trailing behind you.

When you got in, smelt the familiar smell of him-and you-your shared space, the place that once bought you comfort, now, you only felt like a stranger.

You moved past the kitchen to make your way to the bedroom, quickly finding a small bag to pack some overnight clothes.

‘Fucks sake. You’re not going anywhere right now. It’s 3am’ he said, voice hoarse, thick British accent coming through making you jump in your spot.

You ignored him, nothing to say to the man as you carried on grabbing your essentials, new tears gracing your face. You didn’t know where you would go, but you needed to get out of this space.

Taking a minute to find your car keys, you started walking toward the door when he spoke again.

‘Y/n seriously. Where’re you gonna go at this hour?’

For the first time since the lame convo, you looked at him, really looked at him and took him in. His face was softer, anger drifted away, hooded eyes, red rimmed.

You almost would have missed it if you didn’t look long enough.

But it was there.

The guilt.

Just for a fraction of a second though, before he composed himself, stood upright again.

‘Somewhere. Anywhere-away from you’ you said, barely.

He scoffed.

‘You think saying that’s gonna affect me? Make me feel something? God you really are so desperate for me.’ He said, words slicing through your heart as you stood there dumbfounded.

He then stepped closer, voice lower now.

‘It’s exhausting y/n. Pretending. To be happy with you’ he continued.

The silence that followed was blistering as his eyes bored into yours, holding none of that warmth you were used to getting from him.

Eventually, unable to breathe, you nodded.

‘Keep telling yourself that Lan. And let’s never make this mistake again’ you said softly, body starting to tremble before you turned around.

Walked out.

…

Your body was cold, unable to comprehend how the night unfolded. You kept replaying his words the whole time you drove around Monaco multiple times. Why didn’t he just break up with you plain and simple without throwing those words at you? Words that literally felt like they broke your heart in ways you never thought possible. You didn’t know..but you do know you’d lost the love of your life a while ago now, not just tonight.

Y’all IDK where the angst came from but I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist.

[jamesbuckybarnesandnoble]

Seven Times You Gave James a Nickname (and He Hated Every One)

Or, you try a new nickname everyday of the week just to annoy Bucky Barnes

(Drabble)

Pairing: Bucky x reader! Words: idk like 500 something really short but cute, Type: Fluff, pre-established relationship, you annoy bucky but he loves you anyway and probably because of it, kicking my feet, giggling like crazy Warnings: none Summary: you're trying new nicknames for Bucky, so far he's found all of them atrocious PS.I didn't proof read, so if you see something let me know thanks. Also, thanks for the likes but you know what they say, reblog makes the dreamwork.

On Monday, over breakfast, you leaned casually on the kitchen counter, a plate of sunny-side-up eggs in front of you. “Jamie, pass me the salt?”

Bucky paused mid-reach, expression flat. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Jamie?”

He didn’t answer—just took your plate, stepped back, and started eating your bacon like it was his breakfast all along. “No more breakfast for you,” he said, completely deadpan.

You laughed. “Oh come on, wait!”

Too late. Your eggs were next.

Tuesday, during recon on an abandoned building, you called over comms, “Jimmy, do you copy?” Silence. “Jimmy?”

Still nothing.

Then Sam crackled in, laughing: “He says he’d rather die than answer to that.”

You grinned. “Such dramatic flair, Jimmy.”

By Wednesday, you were feeling bold. You slid a coffee across the table, sweet smile on your face. “One black coffee, extra brooding, for Jim-Jim.”

Bucky stared at you like you’d handed him a kitten soaked in acid. “That’s the dumbest nickname I’ve ever heard.”

You shrugged. “Well then, it suits.”

Thursday night under the New York skyline, you both looked annoyingly hot—him in a tailored suit, you in a long dress that made him stare a little too long. He was just about to open the cab door when you said, “J-Man, you ready?”

He froze like you'd slapped him. “Do I look like a ‘J-Man’ to you?”

“Honestly? A little.”

He rolled his eyes so hard you feared they might get stuck. Still muttering “J-Man” under his breath, he helped you into the cab like a gentleman deeply betrayed. “Don’t ever call me that in public,” he grumbled.

Friday in the training room, you threw an arm around his shoulders, still sweaty from drills. “Sup, J-Dawg?”

He stepped out from under your arm like you'd burned him. Somewhere across the mats, Sam howled laughing.

“I have a metal arm and PTSD,” Bucky said flatly. “Don’t push me.”

On Saturday afternoon, you were sprawled on the couch, pretending to read. Glasses perched on your nose, tea in hand, up to no good. “Oh wait, I got it,” you grinned. “Jimbo.”

Bucky turned slowly. His eye twitched. “You trying to get killed today?”

“Not really.” You sipped your tea. “So… it’s a no?”

He left the room without a word. You’re pretty sure it was for his safety.

By Sunday night, you were both curled up in bed. The lights were low, your feet were cold, and Bucky was warm like a human space heater. You nuzzled into his side. “You’re always so cozy, Jimbalaya,” you whispered.

He groaned into the pillow. “That’s not a name. That’s a stew.”

You shrugged, tucking your toes deeper under him. “It’s a term of endearment now.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Oh, come on. I bring so much fun to your life.”

He lifted his head, eyes soft, and kissed the side of yours. “Yeah. You do.”

Then he pulled the covers tighter around both of you. “Now please go to sleep before you start inventing something worse.”

You grinned against his chest. “Good night, Jimbalaya.”

[mainstreamangel]

Hiii! Can you make Kate Martin x famous reader, where ppl don't know they are dating, but when reader is doing a live kate doesn't notice and kiss the her causing a chaos

LIVE IN THE MOMENT

summary: you decide to go live after wrapping up your latest tour. though a surprise guest makes an appearance unintentionally.

warning(s): none

masterlist / golden state locker room / part 2

you stood at the kitchen island preparing dinner for you and kate. you had just wrapped up your latest tour and now you were taking a break.

you needed to spend some quality time with your girlfriend, kate martin. you had met kate back in high school. you were friends, yes. but you didn’t start dating till freshman year of college. with her starting her collegiate career—which would hopefully lead to bigger things and bigger leagues—you wanted to keep your relationship private but not hidden.

you’ve been seen at some of kate’s games in the past both high school and college but you weren’t well known until recently. you had your big break senior year, where you sang your hit song ‘2 hands’ for tiktok.

you expected for it to get maybe a couple views maybe a like or two. hopefully a positive comment. but you werent expecting the million views and the trend that started because someone created a choreography for it.

but most of all you weren’t expecting RCA records to reach out and offer a signed deal. you were estatic when you got the news. you called kate immediately and she was equally just as excited.

but ever since that fateful day, you’ve been busy launching your new album and growing as an artist. you had to finish your degree online and you talked to kate about it. she supported your career and encouraged you to take the next steps in your career.

you let her know that when she—if she committed to the draft, you would go where she goes whether it be somewhere east or west.

so when she got drafted to the las vegas aces the to the expansion team—the golden state valkyries, you went with her. your career has taken off many fans showing love and support to your two albums and you’ve had several sold out shows at arenas.

unfortunately with you touring you haven’t been able to go to many of kate’s games, so with this break you’ve been able to attend more than before.

of course you and kate had stolen glances from deep threes to buzzer-beaters and steals. wins and losses you’ve seen but it doesn’t matter when kate’s learned to leave it on the court and when she’s home with you she constantly feels like a winner.

when you showed up to her games, fans of both you and kate started to speculate and start rumours. when media and press interviewed about it you both didn’t confirm or deny. because even if you did confirm or deny, you have a type of love no one but you two would ever understand.

so here you were while kate was at practice you set up your tiktok live and watched as people filed in to the online space.

“hey guys, i’m gonna make dinner and since i’m on break i thought it would be nice to stay connected and present with you guys.” you waved at the camera.

↳ user01: HIIIII I LOVE YOUR MUSIC CAN I GET A HI BACK???

↳ user02: i went 2 ur tour it was so amazing ilysm [name]

↳ user03: what u making for dinner [name]

“hey user01, and we’re making spaghetti bolognese. my favourite dish.” you started looking at the recipe on your ipad and grabbed all of your things.

you knew a well executed mise en place* was necessary for cooking efficiently. (mees-ehn-plah-ce = everything in its place)*. you gathered your ingredients and put on yours and kate’s playlist.

“i love you guys but its so good to be home for a change. been busy seeing a bunch of basketball games—you know the bay area don’t play.” you laughed.

↳ user04: [name] ARE YOU DATING ANYONE???

↳ user05: spaghetti bolognese is my favourite dish too

↳ user 06: have u met any of the gsv players? ur always at their games its like ur an cheerleader for them

you stopped chopping up the carrots for a minute. “why is there a cowboy hat on me?” you furrowed your brows as you watched it disappear. “yeah i’ve been to a couple valkyries games, they’re great ballers.” you continued to chop up your carrots.

you were so busy chopping up for dinner you didn’t hear the front door open.

kate was exhausted. she had a rough practice and her shots just weren’t hitting. normally she’d call out to you but the sound of your voice made it sound as if you were on a call and she didn’t want to interrupt.

kate dropped her stuff at the door and exhaled harshly—rolling her shoulders out. her phone buzzed and she opened it to see a text from caitlin about hanging out tomorrow before the valkyries-fever matchup.

kate spotted you and watched as you cooked something in a pan while glancing at your phone a few times and talking. she looked down at her own phone and started to respond to caitlin.

she didn’t look up but when she got closer to you she leaned in and kissed your temple, rubbing your arm softly and quickly before returning to her conversation.

↳ user07: IS THAT KATE???

↳ user 08: holy crap did she js kiss [name] while live

↳ user09: NOOOOOOO MY WIFE IS TAKEN THIS IS FARTBREAKING

↳ user10: @user09 ur chopped mate their aint nothing there for her to have

“hey babe, how was practice?” you asked casually.

kate glanced up at you, pausing her steps. she frozen when she looked at your phone properly.

“you live?” she glances at you.

“yeah i was making spaghetti bolognese and thought i’d go live. is that okay?” you showed signs of worry.

kate shook her head furiously. “no no yeah, do whatever you want. just caught me off guard i guess.” she smiled, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“hi guys.” she waved with her phone.

the chat exploded.

↳ user11: KATE HI ILY

↳ user12: yall r so fine i love when 2 baddies get together

↳ user13: can i get courtside tickets to ur game or can u get me tickets to ur next tour

↳ user14: @user13 sybau

kate laughed and plucked a lone strand of cooled pasta from the pot.

“hey! it’s not buttered yet.” you point to the few butter squares off to the side.

kate stopped and looked at you. “butter luck next time.” she said, taking another strand.

you shook your head. “alright guys, my girl’s home so i gotta go. thanks for tuning in and i’ll update soon.” you send a quick kiss to the cam and you turned to kate to see if she wanted to say any final words.

“ya that’s my girl.” she wrapped her arms around you and started to tickle your sides and attack your skin with her lips.

you started laughing and shaking trying to flinch away from her. you reached for your phone and ended the live.

your.user

your.user dinner is served 💋 @katemartin

liked by katemartin, sabrinacarpenter, and 1.2M more

katemartin: it was delicious and dessert was yummier too ;)

↳ your.user: KATE MARTN.

↳ user01: yall freaks

crumblofficial: can’t wait till next week. dinner will taste even better.

↳ user02: [name] x CRUMBL COLLAB???

caitlinclark22: and yall didn’t invite me?

↳ your.user: love u but no

↳ katemartin: i didn’t think you’d wanna stay for dessert.

see all 4.5k comments

[organic-bloodbath]

Hey..!! I was just trying to cope with the death of my queen..(the one and only cho hyun ju ✨) so I wanted to request a fic that I can cry to about how full of fluff it is..🤧 so basically something simple like when reader gets her period on a rainy day (no idea why I said rainy day but it sounds cute) and hyun ju tries her best to help like the sweetheart she is..nothing just pure fluff 🌸

Cramps & Cuddles

Hyun-ju x Reader

Summary: As above.

A/N: On my own period too rn but not having her to take care of me... 😔💔 reality is cruel. Hope it's fluffy enough <3

♤♤

You: where are you?

Hyun-ju <3: Home, what's up?

You: i don't want to bother u but um... could u please do me a favor?

Hyun-ju <3: Depends. What kind of favor?

You: uh, um. this is a little awkward but could u go to the store for me? i'm not uh able to leave my house rn

Hyun-ju <3: Of course. What do you need?

You texted her a list of the items you needed.

You: oh and uh just use the spare key to come inside

You put your phone away, sitting on the toilet with your shorts and panties dropped on your ankles. You leaned your elbows on your knees and hid your face into your hands, even though there was nobody to hide it from.

You had run out of toilet paper, had no pads in the drawer and couldn't even find any napkins either – absolutely nothing what you could use to prevent blood from staining your pants while you'd walk to the store right around the corner from your house.

You hated asking for favors but Hyun-ju was close enough to you, having known her for several years, so you felt comfortable asking stuff like this from her. She also lived quite close to your place, just fifteen minutes by walking.

It took about half an hour for you to hear the front door open and close, you still sitting on the toilet.

"Can i open the door?" Hyun-ju asked behind the door, you not being able to reach it on your own right now. You quickly took a towel and laid it on your lap to cover your lower body.

"Yeah come in," you called and swallowed. Hyun-ju stepped inside, carrying a packet of toilet paper and three different kind of pads along with tampons.

"I wasn't sure which kind i should get for you, what you used, so i took one of each," Hyun-ju said. "I tried to ask one girl there if she could tell me what i should buy."

You hadn't specified the brand of the ones you used but these could do perfectly. Hyun-ju had never gotten period herself and hadn't bought pads either, so she had been a little lost at the store.

"Excuse me, um," Hyun-ju started, getting a young girl's attention nearby. She felt awkward doing so, asking help from a stranger but she didn't want to get you something totally wrong. "I'm trying to get pads for my friend but i'm not sure what i should take."

It had been stupid of you not explaining in more detail what she should buy.

"Thank you, so much," you said and opened the packet of tampons first.

"I know you only asked for the pads and toilet paper but i got you a few other things too," Hyun-ju said when you arrived to the kitchen. She pulled the rest of the items from the plastic bag, laying them on the table. "I got you painkillers, just in case you didn't have them or had lost them somewhere. Then, three types of chocolate and also tea, your favorite."

Hyun-ju left you alone to give you privacy, closing the door behind her. You tried not to take too long in the bathroom and keep Hyun-ju waiting much longer, even though she wouldn't care.

"Oh, you shouldn't have bothered to do all of that," you said, blush rising on your cheeks due to the kind effort she had put on you. Then, you got another cramp on your lower stomach, making you wince and your body almost folding in half.

Hyun-ju poured you a glass of cold water, offering it to you along with a painkiller. She knew you well and was sure that you hadn't taken one yet – you only bothered to take them when the pain had become really bad and not in the beginning what you should have done.

"I wanted to do it," Hyun-ju insisted and smiled while you swallowed the pill with the water. "I don't want you to suffer alone, i want to help any way i can."

"Well, thank you. Seriously." You smiled, not being used to someone taking care of you.

All your life you had gotten used to doing everything on your own, even most of your childhood, your parents neglecting you, being too lazy to fill your basic needs. You never asked help from your friends either unless you really couldn't do it by yourself. Now too, even though Hyun-ju said that she was happy to help you, you felt bad for bothering her.

She had even bought your favorite chocolate, knowing your favorites in everything. Knowing exactly which things you liked and which you hated; it baffled you how someone could remember all of that about you. Bothering to get to know all the little things.

"Do you want me to stay or be alone? We could watch a movie if you'd like," Hyun-ju suggested. You were about to open your mouth and respond but she spoke first. "Before you say anything, you didn't interrupt anything what i was originally doing. I had no plans for tonight and i'd gladly spend it with you."

That pretty smile of hers made your heart flutter every single time. You weren't sure if she was aware how every smile and her touch on you made blutterflies swarm inside your stomach and you'd rather keep it to yourself too. Every time she even put her hand on your shoulder, you went insane. Every time she hugged you, you almost exploded – in the best way possible.

You agreed to spend the evening together and went to lie down on the bed since the TV was located in your bedroom. You brought all the chocolates with you, probably getting brown chocolate stains on the white sheets next morning but right now you didn't care about anything.

Your stomach still hurt like hell and your skin was sweaty, you were somehow hot and cold at the same time.

Hyun-ju stepped into the bedroom, carrying two things with her, one in each hand: a cup of tea and a heating pad. She laid the tea on your bedside table, offering the heating pad to you.

"Careful, i heated it up probably a little too hot, i don't want you to burn your skin," Hyun-ju explained, an apologetic expression on her face.

"Thank you. You've been way too helpful and kind to me," you said, laying the heating pad on your lower stomach, keeping your shirt between your skin and the pad so you wouldn't totally burn your skin. God, it felt so good.

Hyun-ju climbed into the bed with you, pulling a thin blanket over both of you.

"What do you want to watch?" she asked, holding the remote control and putting the TV on.

"You choose, i'm fine with everything," you replied and shrugged.

"Anything, huh?" she smirked, about to go to the horror section just to tease you.

"Fine, at least not horror or something where i need to concentrate on the plot too much to keep up," you explained, feeling mentally too tired for complicated plots at the moment.

Right then, it started to rain outside, the raindrops hitting the window that was covered with red curtains. You loved rain so much, it having a calming effect on you.

Hyun-ju scrolled through different movies and categories, neither of you able to decide which one to choose.

"Alright, tell me a number and i'll press play on the one that comes up on the list as i browse forward," Hyun-ju said. "Otherwise we'll be browsing here until your tea gets cold."

"Hm, alright. Let's say... nine," you decided.

You ended up with a romantic comedy which you had heard of but had never seen. You rarely watched comedies but it felt perfect for this moment, the plot always being quite predictable.

At first, when the movie started, there was a gap between the two of you but as the movie went forward, you had ended up leaning against her shoulder (after you had finished your tea). Hyun-ju put her arm around you, it felt like the most natural thing to do while lying down together.

You were about to take another piece of chocolate but instead of the chocolate, your fingers met with Hyun-ju's hand. Both of you turned your heads to look at each other, faces closer than you first expected.

"Sorry, you take it," Hyun-ju chuckled.

After some time your eyelids started to feel heavy, the cramps starting to fade off too momenturaly. It was still raining outside, making the situation you were in way too cozy to be able to stay awake much longer.

"Would you like to –" Hyun-ju started but was interrupted by a slight snore coming out of your mouth.

You nuzzled yourself tighter against Hyun-ju in your sleep, head resting on her chest and hand on her stomach; right on the spot where butterflies were flying free inside Hyun-ju.

Hyun-ju's heart melted, looking down at your sleeping figure. She had the need to go to the bathroom and also get a glass of water but she didn't dare to wake you up. The movie was still on, about twenty minutes left, so Hyun-ju finished the movie on her own, brushing your hair and massaging your scalp with her fingers. You were completely relaxed and limp in her arms.

When the movie ended, Hyun-ju kissed the top of your head and closed her own eyes as well, the sound of rain hitting the window the only thing she heard before she too drifted into sleep.

♤♤

[bingbongsupremacy]

I know you’re just now stepping into TGM fics but I LIVE for unrequited love stories where the FMC is in love with her friend and he is too dumb to notice it but other people do. Could you do one where the FMC is in love with her best friend (one of the TGM guys) and he’s like over the top smitten with Phoenix and tries to get with her but she knows the FMC is in love with the oblivious dude so she tries to shut it down when she realizes what’s happening? Angst curt with maybe a HEA? Thank you!!

I'll Love You Forever

Pairing: Rooster x Fem Pilot!Reader (Call Sign Rockstar)

Warning: Unrequited love, Jake flirting w/ reader, Pet names (Darlin')

Summary: You've been in love with Bradley since you were children. You just wished he'd feel the same. When he tells you he's going to ask out Phoenix, your heart shatters. You wish he would want you the same way he wants her.

*Not Proofread*

No description of reader's weight/body type or race.

A/N: I hope this is okay and what you were wanting! Writing this reminded me of just how much I love this troupe! I'm STRONGLY considering writing another fic w/ this another variation of this troupe but for Jake or Bob.

Memories from their childhood together

People say you can know someone your whole life and still not really see them.

I think that's true with Bradley. He knows the parts of me I let him see; the best friend who's always willing to drop everything and drive his drunk ass home, no matter what time it is. The girl who laughs at every dumb joke. The one who cheers him on even when he's chasing someone else. But he doesn't see the version of me that's been hopelessly in love with him since before I even knew what love was supposed to feel like.

I used to think he'd always choose me. When we were kids, he'd pick me first for baseball, save me the last juice box, chase away the neighborhood bullies. But somewhere along the way, he stopped choosing me. And I don't know how to tell him I'm still waiting.

He tells me everything. Every girl he thinks is pretty, every bad landing, every fight with Mav. Everything except the one thing I wish he'd say: that maybe he feels it too. That maybe he sees me the way I see him. That when I smile, his heart flutters, the way mine does when he smiles. Or that he thinks about me at night when he can't fall asleep, hoping that I might be lying awake thinking of him too.

But he doesn't. And maybe he never will.

I've always known Bradley. Our moms, friends long before we were born, raised us together on the same block. My mom was there when Bradley's mom got the call about his dad. His mom was there for mine, when we got a similar one when I was 10.

It's only natural that we spent a lot of time together. He was one of my first friends, someone I've always felt like I can trust and rely on.

I don't know exactly when I felt things start to shift in my feelings.

Suddenly, holding his hand while crossing the street, something our moms asked us to do as kids while we practiced safely crossing, felt like a much bigger deal than before. His compliments left me flustered and feeling special in a way I didn't understand. I started feeling hyper aware of how I look and dress, feeling like I couldn't compare to the girls a few years older than us who Bradley seemed to like.

It wasn't like his behavior had changed toward me. He was still the same old Bradley; the one who teased me when I tripped over my own feet, the one who kicked my ass on game nights, and who stood by me through hard times.

Maybe it was the day he stood up for me when a boy at school made fun of my hair. Or the time he let me borrow his jacket to cover up the back of my pants when I got my period early and bled through. It could've been those late summer evenings in high school, when we'd lay on the hood of his car and watch the stars, and he'd point out constellations in that soft, patient voice. There's so many maybe's, it's impossible for me to tell. Or when he asked me to Prom, because no one else would. Although, I have a feeling he might've just done it because his mom knew how upset I was.

All I know is, somewhere between scraped knees and midnight snacks, my heart decided it wasn't just friendship anymore. And I never figured out how to make it stop.

It's only gotten harder as we've gotten older. We both have similar goals and dreams, and because of that, we're still very close. As we got older, naturally, other girls have entered Bradley's life. He started having crushes, asking girls out or to dances in school. He knows how to flirt and he's a good looking guy, so of course he's had girlfriends, although they never seem to last very long.

I know it's wrong, but I can't help but feel relief when he tells me things didn't work out with his latest girl. Maybe a little hope too, that this could possibly be my turn, the chance where he realizes I've been here the whole time.

I can't help it.

To him, I'm not a grown woman with wants and desires. I'm the dorky kid neighbor he grew up playing video games and make believe with.

"Earth to Rockstar," Jake drawls, flashing that cocky grin. "You daydreamin' about me again? Can't say I blame you. I'm quite the looker." He teases, bending slightly as he gets ready to take his shot at the pool table.

I got shit faced and sang karaoke once. Now I'm forever known as Rockstar. Could be worse.

"You wish." I scoff, folding my arms over my chest. "The day I start dreaming of you is the day I intentionally crash my plane."

Jake just laughs, tossing his head back, that shit-eating grin never leaving his face. "Damn, Rockstar. You crash and burn every time you open that pretty mouth, so at least you'd finally match your flight record."

"Wow, you keep track of my record? Cute. Guess I really am living rent-free in that hollow head of yours." My retort earns a few chuckles from the pilots around me.

Jake's smirk deepens. "Cute comeback. They teach you that in 'How to Cope With Second Place 101'?"

"They teach you how to be an asshole at Abercrombie and Fitch?" I snap back, earning a chuckle and brow raise from Jake.

"So you do find me attractive."

I huff. "Kill me now. Please, someone. Anyone."

"Kids kids, settle down." Natasha rolls her eyes. "We get it, you're both allergic to silence. Can we finish the game before the Penny files a noise complaint?"

"Silence doesn't bother me. He does. It's like a reflex. See Hangman, knock him down a peg." I smirk, playfully glaring at the man in question.

I don't hate Jake. He's just a pain in the ass.

"You know you love me, darlin'." He flashes a toothy grin before turning his attention to Javy who's besides him.

"Oh get over yourself, Bagman." I glance over at the clock on the wall, checking the time. Bradley should be here soon. I try to push down the bubbling feelings beginning to stir at the thought of seeing him again. Thankfully, the group helps me distract myself with their banter.

We're about halfway through the game when Phoenix spots something over my shoulder. I'm mid shot when she calls out the name I've been waiting to here.

"Bradshaw!" She shouts loud enough for him to hear across the bar. "Is that you?"

My hands slightly stumble, sending the ball weakly to the opposite area of where I was trying to send it.

"Damn, Rockstar. You might want to stick to flying, 'cause that was just plain sad." Reuben jokes.

I don't respond. Instead I tightly grip onto the cue stick in my hand, holding it up straight with the bottom on the floor as I turn around.

I'd know that face anywhere.

Bradley pauses his walk, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he looks straight ahead at us. A loose white tank top covers his chest, with one of his signature Hawaiian shirts open over top. His blue jeans hug his muscular thighs, leading down to a pair of scuffed black sneakers. On his right arm rests the black leather watch I gave him for his birthday 4 years ago. His skin is slightly tanner than before, evidence of his time in the sun. A pair of black sunglasses rests comfortably on his nose.

He looks good. Relaxed.

His pause only lasts for a second before he continues to walk towards our group. As he gets closer, a he breaks into a grin and pulls off his sun glasses, clipping them on the neck of his tank top.

The sight of his smile catches my breath and sends the familiar feeling of butterflies tumbling around in my stomach. I hold onto the cue stick just a bit harder, trying to force myself to behave normally.

I clear my throat to push away my nerves. "Long time no see, B." I shoot him a smile.

His eyes soften the second he sees me and he comes closer. "Hey, you," he says, voice low but warm. "Been too long." He pulls me in for a quick hug, something we've done in greeting for years.

Immediately I'm surrounded by the familiar smell of him; the mixed smell of his faded signature ocean scented cologne and laundry detergent. I take it in, relaxing slightly in his arms.

The hug is over quicker then I'd like, and I immediately miss the warmth of his embrace.

"How've you been?" He asks curiously.

I lean back against the pool table slightly. "Same old same old. Can't complain."

His attention shifts to Natasha when she speaks to him. "This is how I find out you're stateside?"

He walks towards her, stopping a little bit behind her. "Yeah, I just thought I'd surprise you." He glances around to take a look at everyone around us.

Natasha prepares herself to take her next shot, lining up the cue stick with the cue ball. "Hm."

The end of her stick jabs him in the gut, causing him to hunch over and instinctively grab his stomach.

"I guess I surprised you back." she teases, turning back around to face the man, a smirk on her lips.

"It's good to see you." He grins before straightening up and patting her uniform covered shoulder.

"Good to see you too."

Bob is about to take a shot when Jake returns, handing Javy a beer before stealing the cue stick from him. "Bradshaw. As I live and breathe." He continues to slowly walk around the pool table, eyeing Bradley slightly.

"Hangman." Bradley greets. "You look...good."

Jake takes a confident shot. "Well, I am good, Rooster. I'm very good."

I roll my eyes at his cocky tone. The ego on this man.

"In fact, I am too good to be true."

Bradley sends me a small 'is he serious?' look. I give him a tight lipped smile, nodding slightly in confirmation.

The group begins to talk about the upcoming mission, Jake obviously turning the who situation into a big ego boost. The environment is tense when Jake finally decides to head to the other side of the table.

"He hasn't changed." I mutter after taking a step closer to Bradley.

"Not one bit." He confirms with a sigh. He glances towards the other side of the bar where the jukebox is located. "C'mon. It's piano time."

I hand my cue stick to Bob before following after Bradley. He sends me a sneaky grin as he pulls the Jukebox cord from the wall, eliciting annoyed groans from around the room.

Bradley pulls out his classes, setting them back on his face before beginning to play a few notes on the keyboard. The music is beautiful, immediately reminding me of the hours we spent practicing together as children.

"You gonna just stand there, or help me out?" He teases, sliding over for me.

"I don't know if I remember how to play much anymore. It's been a while." I chuckle, taking a seat beside him. "But I can try."

"I'll be here to help you. It'll be a refresher lesson." Bradley reassures me. "Put your hand here, remember?" He gently grabs my hand, positioning it above some of the keys. "We're playing the song."

His dad's song.

"I remember this one." I grin. "We only played it every day."

He chuckles. "It is a good song."

People begin to gather around us, Natasha and our friends included.

I feel the warmth of Bradley's thigh against mine. The contact gives me a buzz, like I've been drinking (even though I'm completely sober) and it's just starting to hit me. I ignore it, focusing on following along with Bradley.

We keep playing as Penny rings the bell, signaling someone's going overboard. The crowd erupts in cheers, chanting 'overboard' over and over again.

"Great to see you Pete!" Penny's voice calls, causing Bradley and I to look behind us at the ruckus.

I catch a glimpse of Jake and Coyote carrying a man out of the bar. Maverick.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Bradley's jaw twitch as he realizes who it is. He doesn't say anything, instead turning his attention back to the piano in front of us.

When he begins to sing, my heart flutters.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane."

I keep playing purely from habit as I feel myself melt into a pile of goo internally.

"You broke my will but what a thrill. Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!"

Our friends and other pilots begin to sing along with Bradley. The environment around me is buzzing with excitement and joy. Thankfully, Bradley's oblivious to my mental shut down. He continues singing, looking straight at the group of our friends crowded around on his side of the piano.

"I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny. You came along and you moved me, honey. I've changed my mind, this love is fine. Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!"

I know I should be singing too, I probably look strange. But I can't. My mind forces me to listen to the words Bradley sings.

"Kiss me, baby. Mmmh, feels good. Hold me, baby. Well, I'm off to love you like a lover should. Oh, you're fine, so kind. Got to tell this world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine!"

The lyrics stab into my heart one at a time. It's just a song.

It's just a song.

The lyrics are not meant for me.

It's his dad's favorite song. It's not for me.

But in this moment, I wish it was more. I wish they were words he meant for me.

"I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs. I'm real nervous, but it sure is fun."

I snap out of my trance when Natasha catches my eye. She sends me a confused look which quickly morphs to understanding.

I force myself to plaster on a grin and sing along with everyone else.

"Come on, baby, you're driving me crazy. Goodness gracious, great balls of fire."

-----

If Bradley noticed I was acting strange during the song, he doesn't mention it.

After the song, the jukebox is plugged back in and we head over to the dart board area with our group. More banter is passed back and forth, helping me calm down from before.

"I'm out." Bradley shakes his beer bottle slightly as he stands up. He glances at the nearly empty bottle in my hands. "Want another?"

I purse my lips. "Do I...yes. Should I? No. I haven't had dinner yet. Probably best if I don't. I wasn't even planning on this one." I sigh, sending the man a lazy smile. "Thanks though, B."

His brows crinkle for a moment, but they quickly smooth out as he nods. "No problem. Phoenix?"

He gestures to the beer in her hands.

"I'm good, thanks."

With that, he turns around and begins his journey to the bar, leaving me and Natasha seated at the table alone. The others are standing a few feet away, completely absorbed in their game and trash talk.

As soon as Bradley's far enough away, Natasha starts to talk. "So...you and Rooster?" She quirks her brow, asking casually.

"What?" I feel heat begin to climb my cheeks. I avoid her gaze. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yeah, sure." She takes a sip of her drink. "Seems like you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't be so tense."

I feel my jaw tighten. "We're not dating or anything. It's...I just have a crush." I swallow harshly at the admission. "Please don't tell him." I look into her eyes, pleading slightly.

She nods. "Of course I wouldn't."

I let out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you." I bite my lip slightly. "How'd you know?"

"Well," She sends me a small smile. "I've seen you stare at him a bit. Well, not a bit. A lot."

I cringe slightly.

"That kinda got me wondering. Then there was the whole thing with the phone call. I'm guessing that was about him?"

I feel my face heat again at the memory. I'd had one too many drinks and called her to heartbrokenly rant about wishing Bradley liked me back. I didn't use his name though. I had hoped she wouldn't figure it out. "Yeah, it was."

She nods. "And then back there at the piano. It wasn't too hard to piece together what's going on."

I let out an uncomfortable chuckle. "Guess I'm not as secretive as I thought."

"Have you talked to him about it?" She asks.

I shake my head in response.

"Why not? He's a good guy and I have a feeling he might like you too. You won't know until you ask." She tries to encourage me.

"I just don't want to make things awkward, Nat. We've known each other since we were babies. I mean, our moms literally bathed us together. There's a lot of history between us, things we've experienced together. He's my best friend." I sigh in defeat. I don't want to make things awkward between us if he doesn't like me back. What if he's disgusted because he thinks of me like a sister or something? What if he decides he doesn't want me in his life anymore because it's just too weird to be friends with someone who's in love with you? He's the only guy in my life who hasn't let me down. I don't want to take that risk." I admit my fears honestly.

Natasha lets out a slow breath, leaning forward on her elbows. Her eyes are steady, but softer than usual. It's the kind of look she saves for when she's about to say something real.

"Listen to me, Rockstar," she says firmly. "Rooster's not an asshole. Sometimes maybe a hardheaded pain in the ass," She jokes slightly. "but not an asshole. You know that better than anyone. He's not the kind of guy who would intentionally hurt you, and he sure as hell wouldn't just cut you off because of this. I've seen the way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. He cares about you. A lot. Maybe not in the exact way you want, or maybe he does and he's just as oblivious, but either way, he wouldn't throw you away."

She pauses, letting the words sink in, before continuing.

"I get it. You don't want to lose what you have. But hiding this forever? That's going to eat you alive. It already is. Every time you look at him, every time you force yourself to act like it's nothing, you're hurting yourself. If you keep this up, it's just going to get worse."

Natasha reaches out and nudges my arm lightly, grounding me.

"And look… if he doesn't feel the same way? At least you'll know. At least you'll have the chance to close that chapter and move on, instead of torturing yourself with all these 'what ifs.' You deserve more than a lifetime of wondering and hurting in silence. You deserve to be chosen, Rockstar. And if it's not by him, it'll be by someone who sees you the way you want to be seen. But you'll never know unless you take the damn leap."

She gives you a small, knowing smile, a rare softness breaking through her usual tough shell.

"You're braver than this. You always have been."

Deep down I know she's right. All this back and forth, he loves me he loves me not shit is fucking with my brain. It would be nice to know how he really feels. If I do have a chance, or if I'm wasting my life away dreaming of something I'll never have.

I look Natasha in the eye for a minute before letting out a sigh. "I guess you're right." I mutter.

She grins, leaning back into a more casual position on her chair. "I'm always right, Rockstar. You know that." She teases.

I roll my eyes, a small grin playing on my lips. "Yeah yeah, someone's starting to sound a bit like Hangman. Ego much?"

She scrunches her face slightly in disgust. "Comparing me to Hangman? That's painful. Here I was thinking we were friends." She jokes.

"Darlin', it's an honor to be compared to me." Jake's voice catches us off guard. He passes behind us, a new round of drinks in his hands. "Consider yourself lucky." With that, he returns to his friends, leaving us behind.

"Look what you did. You summoned him." Natasha playfully rolls her eyes.

"He's always here at the most inconvenient times." I mutter.

"Damn right." Natasha agrees.

We go back to chatting casually and watching the boys throw darts, occasionally making jabs when one of them says something stupid.

I don't even realize how long Bradley's been gone until a glass of water is slid in front of me.

"They were out of burgers so I had to get the next best thing." Bradley slides a basket of chicken tenders and fries in front of me before sitting down in his original seat with a fresh beer in hand.

My eyes widen at the sight of the food in front of me. "You didn't have to get me anything. I'm fine."

As the aroma of the fried food hits my nose, my stomach betrays me, letting out a soft rumble.

Bradley's brow quirks, a small grin on his face. "Sure you are. I know you, Chuckles."

I roll my eyes at his use of the nickname. He's been calling me that since we were kids.

His smile widens at my reaction. "Besides, couldn't have my best friend dying from alcohol poisoning on me. Not before the Dodgers game in September. We already bought tickets, remember?" He teases.

Best friend

"At least let me pay you back." I go to take my wallet out of my pocket.

Bradley shakes his head, gently pushing my wallet away. "No, it's fine. I owe you for last time, remember?"

I huff but agree, sliding my wallet back into my pocket. "Well...you can have some of my food if you want." I offer.

Bradley grins. "I won't pass you up on that." He snags a fry off my plate.

I chuckle at his behavior. Natasha catches my eye, glancing first at me then down to my food and finally at Bradley. She raises a brow, smirking slightly before taking a sip of her drink.

I ignore her, taking a bite of my food.

This day has been an emotional roller coaster.

-----

Eventually, Jake strolls back toward our group at the dart board, his eyes flicking over the group before landing right on me. His grin is big and shameless, and I already know I'm about to be harassed.

I attack first. "Your friends sick of you already, Bagman?" I ask, not bothering to hold my gaze on him for long. "People tend to get sick of those with ego's the size of Russia."

Jake grins, pressing a hand to his chest like I've wounded him. "Darlin', if I needed constant admiration, I'd just stand in front of a mirror all night."

"Of course you would." I mutter, unamused.

Jake glances over at the dartboard. "Well, well, Rockstar. You lookin' to embarrass yourself at darts too, or was that pitiful pool game earlier enough for one night?" he drawls, leaning his elbow casually on the edge of the dart board.

I narrow my eyes at him, crossing my arms. "Big words from the human embodiment of a participation trophy."

That earns a chorus of "oohs" and laughter from around us. Natasha chokes on her drink, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she cackles.

Jake just laughs, unfazed. "Tell you what," he says, straightening up and grabbing a set of darts. "We play. If I win, you owe me a date." His brows jump suggestively. "And if by some miracle you win, I owe you a date. Sound fair?"

I tilt my head, pretending to consider it seriously. "Mmm," I hum sarcastically. "See, if I'm gonna play, it has to be something good enough to make me actually want to try. A date with you? That's more like a punishment."

I hear Mickey snicker. "I think we're witnessing his first rejection. Someone record it for memories."

Jake holds up his hands in mock surrender, smirking. "Alright, alright. You drive a hard bargain, Rockstar. What do you want then? Name it."

I grin slowly, relishing the way he hesitates just for a split second. "Your parking spot at the barracks." He's got the best spot, we all know it.

Someone whistles low.

Jake's eyes widen for a moment. He loves that spot, closest to the door, shaded, practically a gold mine. But he recovers fast, jaw setting stubbornly. "Fine. Deal. But don't start crying when you lose in front of all your friends."

I roll my shoulders dramatically. "Don't worry about me, Hangman. Worry about that precious parking spot of yours."

We step up to the line, the group forming a loose semicircle around us. Bradley stands at the edge, quieter than usual, nursing his beer. I'm too focused on Jake to notice.

Jake throws first. His dart hits a solid 18. He turns to me, eyebrows raised. "Try to keep up, darlin’."

"Don't hurt your shoulder patting yourself on the back, cowboy," I shoot back, stepping forward. "You're the one who's gonna need to keep up."

I focus, ignoring his mocking commentary behind me. The dart soars and lands right on a triple 20.

The group explodes. Phoenix slaps the table so hard her drink almost tips over. "Ohhh shit! Rockstar's here to play tonight!"

Jake's jaw drops slightly, but he recovers, throwing again. This time he gets a 15, muttering something under his breath.

"My grandma could do better than that," I taunt, tossing my next dart, another strong hit.

We keep going, the group shouting playful insults and cheers with every throw. Jake's frustration starts to show, each miss fueling the smugness that bubbles up inside me.

Finally, I nail my last throw, clinching the win. I throw both arms up in victory, spinning to face the group. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you win the best parking spot in the entire damn base!"

Everyone hollers and laughs. Natasha stands and gives me a high five. "Holy shit, Rockstar. Remind me not to challenge you when money's involved."

Jake looks absolutely betrayed. He points at me accusingly. "You're a shark. You’ve been hustling me this whole time!"

"Aw, don't be mad." I give him a mock pout, patting his shoulder. "I'll think of you every time I park my car in that beautiful, shady spot."

"Unbelievable," he mutters, shaking his head but smiling despite himself.

I turn to grab my drink, still riding the high of victory. I finally notice Bradley in my peripheral vision. His expression is tight, eyes fixed on his beer bottle. Before I can say anything, he stands abruptly.

"I'm gonna head out," he announces to no one in particular, setting his empty bottle on the table.

My smile falters. "Already? It's not even 9."

He shrugs and give me a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Long day. I'll see you guys around. Good to see you again, Rockstar."

My stomach twists at the use of my callsign rather than his nickname. He never calls me Rockstar.

"Goodnight, Rooster," Phoenix calls, eyeing him curiously.

He gives a small nod, glancing briefly at me before turning and weaving through the crowd. My chest tightens, a strange pang settling low in my stomach.

I open my mouth to call after him, but no words come out. Instead, I stand there, still clutching my water-the one he got me, my victory suddenly tasting a little bitter.

The group starts talking again, laughing and replaying the game, but my mind is somewhere else.

Watching his broad shoulders disappear into the bar crowd, I realize… maybe he did notice more than I thought.

And maybe… it mattered to him.

Maybe he didn't like seeing Jake flirt with me. Did he like me too?

No. Bradley's not the type to hold back. If he likes someone, he'll ask them out.

It has to be something else.

He doesn't like me. If he did, he would've already made a move.

-----

Bradley's been distant. I don't know if it's because of the bar, the pressure from training or the fact that Maverick's our teacher. Maybe a combination of all.

It's been hard to spend any time with him. He's always got somewhere to go or someone to see. When he's at the bar, he's always busy with the boys or talking to Phoenix. I can tell it confuses her too. They've always been friends, but it seems like he's talking to her more than usual.

I try not to let it bug me. To not let jealousy bloom every time I see him with her, but it's hard.

Phoenix isn't the type to break girl code. She wouldn't hurt me like that.

But that doesn't stop me from feeling jealous.

The sun beats down on my back, sweat dripping down my spine as I sprint across the sand. My lungs burn, but I don't care. The sound of laughter, cheers, and playful curses fills the beach as we crash into each other, tossing the football back and forth in a chaotic mess.

Bradley's here somewhere. I can hear his voice. That deep, easy laugh I know better than my own heartbeat. But lately, it feels like that sound doesn't belong to me anymore.

I catch a glimpse of him near the edge of the game, close to Phoenix. He's grinning, his head thrown back, talking animatedly. She shoves his shoulder playfully, and he bumps her back, his eyes bright.

I try to focus on the game, but my gaze keeps drifting over. What the hell is going on with him lately? He's been so quiet with me. Like he's carefully stepping around something he doesn't want to say.

I'm obviously not interested in Jake. But maybe he didn't take it that way?

But why would that matter? He doesn't like me.

It can't be the whole thing with Jake.

"Rockstar!" Jake's voice snaps me back. He's right in front of me, eyebrows raised, hand extended for the ball.

"Shit," I mutter, tossing it to him quickly.

He snatches it with a smirk. "Daydreamin' again? Thinkin' 'bout me, again, darlin'?" He lets out a tsk sound. "Startin' to think it's a becoming a problem." he teases.

"The only person who dreams about you, is you." I shoot back, pushing past him. "The whole world doesn't revolve around you. Some of us have actual thoughts."

He just laughs, jogs beside me, his smirk unwavering. "You know, offer for that date still stands. We could hit up a real nice seafood place, maybe even catch the sunset after-"

"Pass."

"You sure? Think it over. Might be the best mistake of your life."

"Jake, I'd rather eat sand than go on a date with you." How many times do I have to reject this man before he finally understands.

If my mind wasn't constantly thinking of Bradley, maybe I'd be a bit flattered.

"Ouch," he grins, clutching his chest in mock pain. "Cold-blooded."

Behind him, Bradley's eyes flicker over to us for a split second before he turns back to Phoenix. The dismissal stings more than I expect.

The game continues in a blur of bodies and sand and sun. I tackle Bob at one point, and we both end up coughing on a mouthful of sand. Phoenix laughs so hard she almost drops the ball. I force myself to laugh too, but my eyes find Bradley again. Always.

He and Phoenix stand on the sidelines for a moment, talking like they're in their own world. I can't hear them, but I see the easy way he looks at her, the comfort, the gentle shoves.

The pang in my chest is sharp enough to take my breath away.

When the game finally winds down, we're all sprawled out on towels or leaning against driftwood, catching our breath.

Jake drops down beside me, kicking sand onto my shins on accident. I shoot him a glare. "Haven't filled your quota of annoyingness yet?"

He raises his hands in surrender. "Hey, calm down, killer. Listen…" His voice is quieter now, less teasing. He scratches the back of his neck, eyes flicking over to where Bradley and Phoenix are still standing together.

"I, uh… wanted to say sorry," he starts.

I blink, thrown off. "Sorry? The man is capable of apologizing?" I gasp in faux shock. "Color me impressed. Sorry for what?"

Jake rolls his eyes. "Ha ha. I'm a completely evil dick." He lets out a small, dry laugh. "I'm sorry for the whole 'ask you out every five seconds' routine. I thought you were playin', y'know, hard to get. I didn't realize at first, but… you're really not interested. In me, at least." He looks at me directly now, all that usual swagger gone. "I saw the way you were lookin' at Rooster today. Kinda hard to miss."

My throat tightens, but I don't say anything.

Jake shrugs, softer than I've ever seen him. "Anyway. Didn't mean to make shit harder for you or make you uncomfortable. I won't keep tryin'."

Something twists in my stomach.

I swallow, forcing my voice out. "Thank you, Jake. Really."

He gives me a small, genuine smile. "Don’t mention it." Then he bumps his shoulder lightly against mine. "Still can't believe you smoked me at darts though."

I laugh, the sound a little shaky, and he laughs with me. Maybe Jake's not so bad.

Part of me wishes I did like Jake. He's obviously interested in me. And he might be a cocky asshole sometimes, but he's not completely horrible. He's just a bit like an onion. You've got to peel back the layers to see the real him.

Maybe I'd finally get the love I've wanted for so long. I'd finally be someone else's world, the way Bradley's mine.

After Jake and I talk, the rest of the group slowly starts to pack up. Towels are shaken out, sunscreen bottles tossed into bags, laughter fading into tired sighs. I wipe the sweat off my forehead with the back of my wrist, stealing another glance toward Bradley.

Phoenix has already wandered off to grab water with Bob, leaving him standing alone near the driftwood.

Before I can think too hard about it, Bradley catches my eye and nods toward the waterline.

"Walk with me?" he calls out, his voice almost shy under the afternoon sun.

I hesitate for a second, then force my legs to move. "Sure."

We walk along the edge of the waves, our footprints overlapping and fading behind us. The hush of the ocean is the only thing filling the silence at first.

He clears his throat. "You played good today."

I scoff lightly, trying to keep my voice casual. "You mean I kicked ass. You were too busy talking with Phoenix to notice." I fail to hide my bitterness.

He winces slightly, like he wasn't expecting me to say that out loud. "Yeah… about that."

My stomach tightens.

He rubs the back of his neck, glancing down at the sand as we walk. "Can I… ask you something? Like, your honest opinion?"

My throat feels like it's closing, but I nod anyway. "Yeah. Of course."

He takes a breath, his brows furrowed. "What do you think of Phoenix? I mean, as a person."

I blink, my steps faltering. "Phoenix? She's awesome. Confident, badass, smart as hell. Why?"

My heart pounds as I begin to sense where this is going.

He hesitates, and for a moment I think maybe he'll drop it, maybe he'll say something else, something I've been dying to hear.

But then he looks at me, and I see something nervous and vulnerable flicker behind his eyes.

"I was thinking… about asking her out," he says.

The words hit me like a damn truck. Of course.

Of course.

It'll never be me. It'll never be, 'Do you want to go out with me?'.

I stop walking. My heart plummets straight to my feet, leaving a hollow space in my chest.

Why am I such a fool? Why do I keep waiting for something that'll never happen.

I guess it's a good thing I didn't follow through with Natasha's advice. Bradley doesn't like me. He likes her. If I had told him how I felt, it would've just been humiliating for the both of us.

"Oh," I manage to croak out, forcing my lips into something that might pass as a smile. "Wow. Um… if that's what you want to do, you should do it."

He looks surprised at how quickly I answer, like he was expecting me to stop him.

"You sure? I just… I guess I wanted your blessing or something," he mumbles, scratching at his wrist like he always does when he's anxious. "You know me better than anyone. And she's our friend. I didn't want to make things weird."

I force out a laugh that sounds like it might break into pieces. "Bradley, you don't need my approval to ask someone out. Who am I to tell you what to do? If that's what you want, you should go for it."

His jaw tenses, eyes scanning my face. Maybe looking for something, anything, that says don't.

But I don't give it to him. I can't.

He's my best friend. I want him to be happy. I want him to love who he wants to love.

Even if it's not me.

He nods slowly, swallowing hard. "Yeah… thanks. Really. I just think...she's great. That she'd be a great girlfriend. Plus she's pretty." He avoids my gaze.

It's for the best. If he were to look at me, he'd see my heart break in a million pieces.

His words are true. And I wish I could be mad at her, but I can't be. It's not her fault he feels the way he does. Phoenix is great. She's smart, talented...funny. And she is pretty. She's a great girl.

It just hurts hearing it from him.

I feel my hands start to shake, so I clench them into fists by my sides. "I should probably head out. Gotta clean up before tonight."

"Hey-" he calls after me as I start to turn away.

I pause, refusing to look back.

"Will I… see you at the bar later?" His voice is softer, almost hopeful.

I take a shaky breath. "Yeah. I'll be there. Always am, aren't I?"

My last words are quiet and bitter. Because they're true.

I'm always there for Bradley.

No matter how bad it hurts.

-----

The bar is loud tonight. Everyone's laughing and tossing darts, music thumping in the background. I'm perched on a barstool near the edge of the group, nursing a single beer that's gone warm ages ago.

I try to listen to Bob and Reuben arguing over some stupid sports stat, but my mind drifts. I just can't fake being interested right now. I don't have the energy too.

My conversation with Bradley earlier completely drained me.

Speaking of the man, my eyes keep wandering to Bradley, who's standing with Phoenix and Coyote near the jukebox. He's laughing at something she says, his head tipped back, hand resting on his hip.

I swallow hard, staring down at the condensation sliding down my bottle.

"Hey." Jake's voice cuts into my thoughts. He slides into the seat next to me, draping an elbow on the bar. "You okay, Rockstar?"

I force a small smirk, trying to wave him off. "Peachy, Bagman."

His brow lifts, skeptical. He follows my gaze across the room and lets out a quiet, knowing sigh.

"You know…" he starts carefully, leaning in so only I can hear. "Even if it's not me… you deserve someone who actually sees you. Someone who wants you back."

My breath catches, and I look at him, really look. There's no smirk tonight, no cocky glint in his eye. Just sincerity.

"If Bradshaw can't see what he's got right in front of him," Jake continues, his voice softer than I've ever heard it, "maybe it's time to let him go. Or at least… stop lettin' him take up so much space in that big heart of yours."

I try to laugh, but it comes out shaky. "Didn't know you were such a therapist. This is a completely different side of you...weirdly kind."

He grins faintly and shrugs. "Got layers, darlin'. Lots of 'em. Contrary to popular belief, I've been in your position before. I've had my share of heartbreak. I know what it feels like to not be picked. I know how much it sucks." His voice is full of sincerity.

I shake my head, biting down hard on my lip to stop it from trembling. "Thanks, Jake. Really. That's very kind." I let out a small huff of laughter. "I think I'm starting to like this side of you, the non-asshole side."

He chuckles. "Don't get used to it. I don't show my layers often." He reaches out and pats my shoulder, a gentle, friendly squeeze that actually feels comforting.

When I glance back across the room, I see Bradley watching us.

Immediately, my mood drops again.

His jaw ticks, his fingers flexing at his sides. He mutters something to Phoenix and then tugs her aside, away from the others.

Phoenix's gaze snaps to me, her eyes wide and confused as Bradley talks rapidly to her. He sends her a charming smile-one I've only seen once or twice before, the one he uses when he's flirting or asking a girl out. The one he never uses on me.

I can't hear him, but I don't need to. The second Phoenix's eyes go even wider and her jaw drops, I know exactly what's happening.

He's doing it. He’s asking her out.

My stomach lurches. My head feels like it's filling with water, all the sounds around me muffled. I need to get out of here. I didn't want to see it all play out, him asking her out. I'd been hoping I'd be drunk enough to forget it when the time came.

I slide off the stool, nearly tripping over my own feet. Jake's voice follows me. "Whoa, hey, you good?"

"I-I've gotta go," I stammer, brushing past him. "Sorry. 'Night, Hangman."

He calls after me, concern in his tone, but I don't stop. Bob and Natasha turn to look, brows furrowing as they see my glassy eyes. I keep moving, trying to force my face to stay stoic.

Out of the corner of my eye, I think I see Phoenix's lips moving, I think I hear her voice, sharp and surprised. Maybe she's saying no. Maybe she isn't. I can't stay to find out.

I shove open the bar door, stumbling out into the cool night air. My vision blurs as I press a palm to my forehead, trying to force back the wave of nausea crawling up my throat.

I usually handle this better. I don't get so...emotional.

To be fair, he's rarely ever asked a girl out in front of me. I've seen it maybe once.

That time was painful too.

I hear the door slam open behind me.

"Hey!" Phoenix's voice calls.

I turn just enough to see her storming toward me, dragging Bradley with her.

My heart stutters so violently I swear I can hear it echo. What the fuck is going on?

Phoenix drags Bradley right up to me, her hand locked tight around his wrist like he might try to bolt.

"Alright, enough of this bullshit," she snaps, glaring between the two of us. "You two need to talk. Right now."

Bradley's eyes are wide, clearly not expecting this. I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off before I can get a single word out.

"This is getting ridiculous," she huffs, shifting her weight like she's too frustrated to stand still. "You're both being so damn oblivious and handling this in the worst way possible. All you're doing is hurting each other, and for what? Because you're scared? Because you're too stubborn to admit what's in front of your faces?"

She turns sharply to Bradley, jabbing a finger at his chest. "And you-seriously? You thought asking me out was the move? Really? Newsflash: I'm not interested. And you're not interested in me either. You know that. You're just trying to fill some hole in your heart because you're terrified of what you actually feel. You think I don't see that? You think I don't know you better than that? I'm not stupid, Bradshaw."

Bradley's jaw works, but no sound comes out.

"And you know it wouldn't work. It hasn't worked in the past, and it sure as hell won't work in the future," she spits, shaking her head in disbelief.

She swings her gaze to me, eyes softening just slightly. "I had no idea he was gonna pull that shit, okay? I would never try to hurt you. You're my friend. I wouldn't step in the middle of this mess if I thought for one second it was real between him and me."

My throat tightens as I stare at her, feeling like I might collapse from the weight of everything crashing over me.

She huffs out a breath and shifts her focus back and forth between us, her voice dropping low and firm. "You need to talk to him. Work this out. Stop running from it. You should've done it the night at the bar when I told you to. Because this dance? This bullshit back-and-forth? It's killing you both. Ask literally anyone inside. They'd tell you they either think you two are already dating or they know you're head over heels for each other. Mickey and Reuben were literally placing bets on who'd break first and ask the other out."

She steps back a pace, folding her arms across her chest. "It's not hard to see, you know. You both light up around each other. You both look at each other like you hung the damn moon. You're in love with each other. Both of you. And it's about damn time you stop being blind to it."

Bradley's eyes flick to me then, something raw and terrified hiding behind them.

Phoenix rolls her eyes one last time, spins on her heel, and starts toward the bar door.

She throws a hand up over her head without looking back. "If you two come back inside and you're not dating, I will personally throw both your asses out of the bar until you are. Figure it out!"

The door slams behind her, leaving us alone.

The night air is heavy and still, and for a moment, neither of us can seem to move or breathe.

We stand there in the thick, stunned silence Phoenix left behind. My heart hammers so loud it echoes in my ears.

Finally, I can't take it anymore.

"What the hell just happened?" I breathe out, my voice shaky and small.

Bradley laughs, but there's no humor in it, just exhaustion and pain. "I… I don't even know," he mutters, running a hand over his face.

I shake my head, frustration bubbling up. "Why have you been so distant lately? You just… stopped talking to me. You started hanging around Phoenix more. I didn't understand."

His head snaps up. "You didn't understand?" he echoes, his voice rough. "What about you and Hangman? You think that didn't mess with my head? Watching him all over you, and you just- you didn't push him away. Not really."

I step forward, frowning. "I did! I shut him down every time! You think I wanted that attention?"

"It sure looked like it sometimes," he says, softer now, but his words still sting.

"Bradley," I say, my voice trembling, "I thought you didn't care about me like that. I thought I was just… your best friend. The safe one. The one you never looked at like that."

He shakes his head, stepping closer. "You think I didn't care?" His voice cracks, eyes searching mine.

"You never showed it!" I say, my breath coming fast. "You never flirted, never asked me out, never gave me a hint that you saw me as anything more than a friend. What was I supposed to think?"

"I've always cared about you," he blurts out, his voice breaking open. "That's why I've always been there. You really think I do that for everyone? You think I sneak into my other friends' windows in the middle of the night with soup when they're sick?"

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

He keeps going, voice rising with every word. "You remember that night in high school- you texted me, said you were too sick to go to the basketball game the next day. You said your mom was working and you'd be fine alone. I couldn't just leave you like that. I snuck out, climbed through your window with a couple cans of soup and crackers. You fell asleep on my shoulder, and I stayed there all night to make sure you were okay. You think I'd do that for just anyone?"

"Bradley, I'm going to get you sick. You shouldn't have come." I mutter, my head hazy.

We're half lying half sitting at the head of my bed. My exhausted body is tucked into his side, shivers wracking through me every now and then. I lean on him slightly, my head resting against his shoulder and my arm wrapping around his waist, looking for any sort of comfort.

Bradley tenderly strokes the hair out of my face. His words are soft and comforting. "I don't care, Chuckles. If you're sick... I'll be sick with you. As long as I'm with you."

"And your birthday two years ago," he continues, his voice almost shaking now. "I drove to three different towns to find that stupid brand of chocolate you love. Three. Because the store's in town and nearby sold out and weren't getting anymore shipments, and I knew it would make you happy. You think I spend my weekends hunting for candy for my other friends?"

"B, where'd you get these?" I ask excitedly, turning the package over in my hands. "I thought the company went out of business."

Bradley smirks, his eyes glimmering in amusement. "I have my ways."

"I hope they weren't too hard to find."

"Nah, took me like an hour. Tops."

He takes another step closer, eyes locked on mine, voice soft but fierce. "I don't stay up at night thinking about my friends, about how much I want to kiss them or hold them. I don't think about what it would be like to wake up next to them every day. I don't... I don't love them the way I love you. It's always been you." He lets out a soft sigh. "And I did try, to move things in a romantic way. You shut me down."

My brows furrow in confusion. "What? When?"

His jaw tightens, like he's dredging up something he's carried for years. "7th grade. Remember that party at Megan's house? We played Seven Minutes in Heaven. We got paired together."

A memory sparks in my mind like a match.

We're shoved into that cramped linen closet, our knees bumping in the dark. I remember the hush of our breathing, both of us so nervous we started rambling about anything- school, video games, the stupid horror movie playing downstairs. We'd never been put in a situation like this, one where things could move from platonic. The closet smelled like detergent and dust, and my heart felt like it might explode.

At this point in my life, I'd never been kissed before. I didn't know what to do. What to say. How to begin. My only experiences with it were from seeing kissing in movies or from PDA showing couples in the hallway.

Then, finally after our conversation faded away, Bradley leaned in and asked to kiss me. When I nodded yes, he gently pulled my jaw towards his, and kissed me. Soft and hesitant. My first real kiss.

I remember pulling back too quickly, my skin hot, my mind spinning with panic. When we stepped out, the girls were all giggling, asking me how it was. I laughed it off, my cheeks burning, and brushed them off.

Back then, I didn't know what to do with the feelings crashing inside me, didn't know how to say I liked it, that I liked him. That I'd wish he'd do it again. I just panicked.

"I thought you liked it at first, like I did." he continues, voice strained. "Then I heard you with the other girls afterward. You acted like it didn't mean anything. You joked about it, said I was just your friend. You even said you liked another guy."

The voices of my middle school peers echo through my mind. "Who do you like? Is it Bradley?" Someone asks with a giggle.

I glance around the group, my eyes landing on one of my friends. I knew she liked Bradley. I knew she'd be heartbroken if I told her I liked him. That's why when she told me she had a crush on him, I didn't say anything. "Dylan." I lie through my teeth, guilt gnawing at my stomach for not telling the truth. "I like Dylan. I mean, he's really good at football. I like guys who are good at football."

My lips part, shock crashing over me.

"I thought that was it," he says quietly, looking away like he can't bear to see my face. "I thought you didn't want me like that. I didn't play football. I wasn't blonde like him. That I wasn't good enough, and you'd never see me as more than your goofy best friend."

My mind is reeling, my heart tearing open at the seams. I had no idea. "Bradley… I didn't know," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I didn't know you thought that. That kiss- that was my first kiss. I was so nervous I didn't know how to react. I lied about not liking you because I thought you liked Megan. and I knew she definitely liked you back. I didn't want to embarrass myself or make her upset."

His eyes snap back to mine, wide, stunned.

"You… you liked it?" he asks, like he's afraid to believe it.

"I loved it," I confess, my voice trembling. "I was terrified and stupid and didn't know how to handle it, but I loved it. I loved you. I thought you hated it. I mean, you avoided me for a week after."

"Because I thought you regretted it." He frowns.

"I didn't. I still-"

"I was going to ask you out," he says quietly. "Before Jake started hanging around, I was finally going to do it. To try again, see if maybe things had changed. I mean, we're older now so I was hoping maybe you'd see me differently. When I came back, all I could think about was how much I missed you. How much I need you in my life."

My lips part, but no words come out.

"But then I saw him," he continues, voice low and breaking. "And I thought… maybe he's what you deserve. Maybe he could give you everything I can't. I didn't think I was good enough for you. I never have."

Tears start to spill down my cheeks, hot and relentless. "Bradley," I whisper. "I never liked Jake. I thought that was obvious. I turned him down every time. I only wanted you. I've always only wanted you."

He stares at me, stunned, like he can’t quite process what I just said. "I've always only wanted you too..."He whispers.

A watery laugh bubbles up in my chest despite the tears. "God, we're so stupid," I choke out, shaking my head.

Bradley lets out a breathy, shaky laugh too, his shoulders dropping. "Yeah," he agrees, a soft smile breaking through all the heartbreak on his face. "We're really fucking stupid."

He takes a step closer, eyes softening. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. "I'm so damn sorry for all of this. For not talking to you sooner. For making you think you weren't enough, or that I didn't want you. I was just so scared that you wouldn't feel the same, that I'd lose you completely."

I don't even bother with words. I just surge forward, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling him into me, kissing him like I've been dying to for years.

His hands come up to cradle my face, and he kisses me back just as desperately, like he's trying to make up for all the time we've wasted.

When we finally pull away, gasping for air, I press my forehead to his, breathless and trembling. "I've been wanting to do that for so damn long," I whisper.

His thumb brushes over my cheek, his eyes burning into mine. "Yeah?" he whispers back, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "Me too."

I giggle, leaning in for another quick kiss before he pulls back, grinning like an idiot. "So… was that better than middle school?" he teases, his breath still ragged.

I roll my eyes, laughing despite myself. "Way better," I say, swatting lightly at his chest.

He chuckles, pressing another soft kiss to my lips. "Good," he murmurs against my mouth. Then he pulls back, his eyes serious but bright. "Can I… can I finally take you out on a real date? Like, an actual, proper date?"

My heart clenches in the best way possible, and I nod, smiling so wide it almost hurts. "Yes. Please."

A sudden burst of muffled cheering makes us both turn our heads sharply.

Near the window, Phoenix and the rest of the group are all pressed up against the glass, faces smushed and eyes wide.

Mickey groans loudly and slaps a crumpled bill into Reuben's waiting hand while Reuben whoops and pumps a fist into the air.

I guess we know who won the bet.

I groan, hiding my face in Bradley's chest as he laughs, shaking his head. "Guess we had an audience," he mutters, pressing a kiss to my hair.

"Of course we did," I mumble, my cheeks burning.

We both laugh, a little embarrassed but so stupidly happy that we can't seem to care.

-----

We ended up going back inside and thankfully weren't thrown out by Phoenix. We got another drink at the bar and decided to talk. Really talk.

I swirl my drink, trying to work up the nerve. "When did you… I mean, when did you first know? That you liked me?"

Bradley's eyes flick up, softening as he watches me. He lets out a small breath, almost like a laugh, and shakes his head.

"Do you remember that Valentine's Day in third grade?" he starts, voice gentle. "When you came home crying to your mom because that kid you had a crush on gave a valentine to some other girl?"

I nod slowly, my brows pulling together. "Yeah?"

His lips twitch like he's embarrassed, but he pushes on. "And then I showed up with a little pink bear and a box of candy… told you that kid asked me to drop them off for you. Said he meant to give 'em to you the whole time, but Karrie walked up and kinda messed it all up."

My eyes widen, the realization hitting me like a wave. I knew that handwriting looked familiar. "Wait… are you saying-"

He rubs the back of his neck, looking down at the floor for a second before meeting my gaze again. "He never asked me to do anything," he says quietly, his voice rough with emotion. "I just… I saw how crushed you were, and I couldn't stand it. I couldn't understand why someone would do that to you, break your heart like that. So I took the birthday money my mom gave me, walked all the way to the corner store, and got you that chocolate and bear. Spent thirty minutes trying to pick a bear you'd like the most. Wrote a card, tried to make it look different from my handwriting so you wouldn't figure it out."

"Oh Bradley..." I give him a soft smile. "I had no idea."

He grins. "That was the point. Didn't want you to be sad." He gently holds my gaze. "That's the day I knew I'd do anything for you. Anything to make you happy. You could've asked me for the damn moon, and I would've tried to find a way to get it to you. It wasn't that I liked you... it was much deeper then that. I realized that I fell in love."

I feel heat crawl up my cheeks at his words. "That's so sweet."

"It's still true. My feelings haven't changed." He takes a sip of his drink, not breaking eye contact with me. "What about you? When did you realize?"

I bite my lip, a smile breaking onto my face. "I've been thinking about it a lot, trying to pin down a moment where it all began. There's been so many thing's that've happened that I think have made me fall deeper and deeper with you." I admit shyly.

Bradley's smile widens. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I nod. "But I think it started when you sat by my side every day for a month when my dad died. You didn't try to make me go out or play a game. You were just there when I needed you the most. That's when I knew you had a good heart and I always wanted to be with you. And that I wanted to be there for you the same way you were there for me."

Bradley takes my hand, gently stroking his thumb across the top. "Now we can both always be there for each other, Chuckles."

I laugh slightly. "What's with the whole Chuckles thing anyways? I don't think you've ever told me."

His face lights up. "I call you Chuckles, because I love when you laugh."

I feel my heart melt at his explanation. That's so sweet.

"Oh get a room." Coyote teases as he finally gets his beers from Penny. I hadn't realized he'd been here for so long, listening to us.

I feel my face heat up for the millionth time tonight.

Bradley stands up still holding his hand in mine. "Let's play some pool?"

I nod, letting him lead me towards the pool tables. "You know, our mom's are never going to let us live this down."

Bradley chuckles, the warm sound filling my heart with joy. "Oh I know. We're going to here 'I called it' from both of them forever."

I hum in agreement. "Forever, huh?"

Bradley glances back at me. "Yeah. Forever. That's how long I want to love you."

I feel a wide smile break onto my face. "Well you're in luck. That's how long I want to love you."

He pulls me in, wrapping his arms around me. His nose is inches away from mine when he speaks, his tone low and soft. "I guess it all works out the, doesn't it Chuckles."

"I guess so, B." I whisper.

His lips meet mine and bursts of fireworks explode in my stomach. I close my eyes and lean into his touch, letting myself feel the moment. His hand gently cups my jaw, rubbing soft circles on my skin.

I guess everything does work out in the end.

----

Memories from their childhood together

[thelunaticself]

OUT AND ABOUT

john price x reader

a christmas getaway with your boyfriend.

a/n: you don't need to read part one to understand but here :)

cw: age gap, reader is well into uni, dubcon, dry humping, manipulative price

Baoase Luxury Resort : The ultra-exclusive resort promises to provide an unforgettable experience to guests seeking a peaceful retreat in comfort and style. 

You flip the card over and over again. You're not stupid. You know what John is trying to say. A card shoved right inside the wrapping of the leather shoes that he saw all over your Pinterest board before ordering it right on your doorstep. “Pre-Christmas gift” he said. 

Your phone vibrates.

“DO NOT REPLY” sent a message.

“you got the gift?”

“yup! they fit perfectly!”

“cant wait to see you in them love”

“youre always so good to me thanks john”

A “heart” reaction is all you get. Usually, he’d ask for a snap or a twirl if he were present. Is this another test? Haven't you been good lately? No cancelled date and always wearing short skirts that he ordered for you while sitting on his couch, a beer in one hand. They appear right above the long cart list of fishing equipment, pocket knives and airsoft guns. An abnormality in his life. A man like him was never born to love. He's trying at least.  

You let it simmer for another five minutes but all you get is eerie silence, not the boiling affection you were hoping for. Right, the card. Are you supposed to ask about it? 

“hey i noticed a card inside the wrap”

“you like the resort?”

“its nice”

That is all you said. Best to hear it from the horse’s mouth.

“i have a good date in mind”

He doesn't even bother to pretend anymore.

“john my parents.”

The three dots linger then disappear. Your parents. They are half the world away but somehow, the leash remains intact. Surely there must be better life choices to be made. Ditching family Christmas dinner to go on vacation with your 35-year-old boyfriend is not one of them.

   ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ •✸•⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ

The soft glow of the city’s light makes it quite hard to sleep when you're on this side of the bed. It's that type of room that has a window as a wall, located on the top floor. You told him you hated the top floor. 

Even more frustrated at the glass wall when you first checked in. Uneasy when the lights were off and he slid his hand into your pj shorts, prodding at your panties. 

“It isn't see-through from the outside, hun’ .”

John took a deep inhale into your neck as you swatted his hand away. They settled on your stomach instead, palming the soft pudge making you warm all over. He felt asleep like a kid that way.

Loud snores fill up cold space in the room. Why is the ac always too cold?

Your phone rings. 

“Hi mom.”

“Hi, baby. I hope I didn't interrupt anything. I know how busy you get these days with the program.”

Something twists in your stomach. You hold on to John's hairy arm to keep yourself grounded.

“I'm just resting, it's alright. We did so much good today. Like, uh, delivering food to a local hospital.  You won't believe what the kids-”

John stirs and shifts around, pressing himself to you as close as he possibly can. It is really hard to focus when his cologne is all over you. The rest of the phone call is uneventful and one you don't bother to remember. Lies flowed out of your mouth like second nature. One of the things you have gotten better at after dating John Price. Trained dog. Good dog.

He presses a kiss onto your shoulder and murmurs in that same spot, voice hoarse from sleep.

“Wish you’d let me meet your mum. Lovely lady I bet.”

“She’d kill both of us I bet.”

“Well, gotta start somewhere.”

You can feel a smug form without even looking back. 

“Go back to sleep.”

“Mm.”

John shifts around, pretending to find a comfortable position. The hair on the back of your neck stands up when his hard-on presses right on the inside of your thigh. 

“John-”

 You warned.

“Just let me have this one, baby.”

“I wanna sleep-”

You reach down and try to swat his hand away like before. 

But John never makes the same mistake twice. 

You don't even process when he flips you to lie on your stomach, your cheek right against the cold pillow. Both of your wrists are held together and pressed awkwardly against your chest while he ruts between your thighs from behind.

“Sorry, baby. Been stressed lately.”

John presses a sweet apology kiss on your head. It's the scene at his apartment all over again. You end up beneath him one way or another. Perhaps letting you hold the leash for a while before latching it onto you is a turn on for him. Something about making the fruit sweeter at the end. 

Your eyelids snap shut and you're back at your old room again. The chopping sound of your mom cooking downstairs. A nice afternoon. Soft lights thread through the binds, hitting the desk where you're hunched over reading. The book is now on your sister's shelf since you moved out for university. 

You hope when the sweetness goes dull, when John realizes halfway through just how rotten it is, he takes another bite.

⌯⌲ buy me a coffee?

[rgwriteshockey]

macklin taking care of you when you’re sick

sick days w/ macklin celebrini ->

summary: mack takes care of you when you're sick and dramatic

word count: 1.3k

a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! i hope you enjoy 😘

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

macklin was shocked when he came back from practice and you didn't greet him at the door like you normally did.

now she was buried under three blankets on the couch, looking like a very adorable, very sniffly burrito.

“babe,” she croaked, voice barely louder than a whisper, “i think i’m dying.”

macklin leaned over the back of the couch, grinning. “you’re not dying. you’ve got a cold.”

“a fuckass cold,” she corrected, closing her eyes dramatically. “i feel like my brain is trying to escape through my nose.”

he laughed, rounding the couch to sit beside her, one arm going around her shoulders gently. “i don’t think that’s how sinuses work.”

“it feels like it,” she mumbled, head dropping onto his chest.

he kissed the top of her head, careful not to catch whatever she had. though honestly, it was probably too late. he’d been around her nonstop the last couple days, especially when she started feeling bad yesterday morning. he hadn’t left her side since.

she sniffled again and let out a tiny cough, the kind that sounded like it came from somewhere deep and miserable.

“you need anything?” he asked, rubbing her back slowly. “tea? soup? another blanket?”

“maybe just my soul back,” she said, voice muffled against his hoodie.

“i’ll see if i can find it on amazon, i mean its prime day"

that made her smile. barely. but it was there.

macklin had already made a mental list of everything she needed. he was good at this kind of thing, even if she usually wasn’t the one needing help. he was used to training schedules and routines and keeping everything in check. this wasn’t so different, just swap the stick and puck for tissues and cough drops.

he got up after a few minutes, gently lowering her back onto the cushions and grabbing the remote. “netflix queue is loaded. i’ve got tea water going. and i’m making you grilled cheese, no arguments.”

she peeked one eye open. “how did i get so lucky?”

“you let me win at mario kart last week.”

“i did not—” she started coughing mid-denial and he shot her a look.

“no talking until you’ve had soup.”

she stuck her tongue out at him. weakly. he just shook his head, grinning, and disappeared into the kitchen.

making grilled cheese was one of the few things he could cook without almost burning the house down, and he took it seriously. golden brown, crispy edges, extra cheese. he added tomato soup to the mix, stirring it carefully while watching her reflection in the microwave door. she hadn’t moved much, still swaddled in her blanket cocoon, still looking tiny and tired.

when he brought the food over, she perked up a little, nose still red and eyes watery. he set the tray on the coffee table and tucked a few pillows behind her back.

“you’re gonna make an amazing hockey wife someday,” he teased, voice raspy but teasing.

“i better. i’m practicing early.”

they ate slowly, her curled into his side, dipping her sandwich in the soup and making satisfied little noises that made him feel proud. like he was actually helping.

once they were done, he set everything aside and helped her lie back down, then pulled the blanket up to her chin.

“temperature check,” he said, touching the back of his hand to her forehead. “still warm, but not burning.”

“good,” she murmured. “that means i can still cuddle.”

he laughed, sliding back down beside her and letting her tuck herself against him. “you’re like a space heater.”

“i’m a cute space heater,” she corrected sleepily.

“the cutest.”

she fell asleep soon after, her head on his shoulder, soft breaths brushing his neck. he didn’t move. didn’t dare. not even when his phone buzzed with messages from his teammates, asking where he was and if he was skipping practice today.

he typed back a quick “taking a sick day,” and left it at that.

she needed him more than the rink did today.

the rest of the day passed in a blur of reruns, naps, and constant hydration reminders. he got her to drink two full glasses of water, made her another cup of tea, and even convinced her to take a quick shower when she said she felt “like a gremlin.”

he sat outside the bathroom door the whole time, just in case she got dizzy. when she finally emerged—hair damp, face flushed, hoodie two sizes too big—he gave her a soft smile.

“you look a little more alive.”

“i feel like a damp towel.”

“a cute damp towel.”

she rolled her eyes but smiled, letting him guide her back to the couch.

as evening settled in, the sun dipping low behind the windows, she curled into his side again, a little less congested, a little less miserable. he’d swapped her used tissues for a new box, fluffed her favorite pillow, and brought out the fuzzy socks she loved but always forgot she owned.

“you’re too good at this,” she said quietly, halfway through another episode of some comfort show she’d watched a hundred times.

“good at what?”

“taking care of me.”

macklin shrugged, wrapping his arm tighter around her. “just repaying the favor. you’re always taking care of me.”

“yeah, but… i don’t know. i don’t usually let people see me like this.”

he looked down at her, her face sleepy but honest.

“like what?”

“vulnerable,” she admitted.

he thought about that for a second. then leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“i like every version of you,” he said simply. “even the one with tissue crumbs in her hair.”

she groaned and smacked his chest lightly, but he could tell she was smiling again.

“you’re lucky i’m too weak to fight back.”

“very lucky.”

they fell asleep like that, wrapped up in blankets and each other. and for the first time all day, she didn’t feel quite so sick anymore. not because the cold was gone—but because macklin was there. warm, steady, hers.

and honestly?

he wouldn’t have been anywhere else.

[raekensluver]

sfw alphabet - arthur frederick

masterlist | main masterlist

a = affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

arthur is naturally affectionate, but in that boyish, teasing way that makes your heart squeeze. he’s all about forehead kisses, squeezing your hand under the table, or dramatically slinging his arm around your shoulders in public. affection comes out most when you least expect it - like a sleepy kiss to your knuckles mid-scroll on his phone.

b = best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?)

he is your best friend. that’s how it starts, too - over some shared joke or chaotic group situation that only the two of you could survive. he’s the type to text “you up?” not for drama, but because he just remembered something hilarious you said two weeks ago.

c = cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

arthur is a clingy cuddler, full stop. legs tangled, arms wrapped tight, his face pressed into your neck even if it’s way too warm for that. he’ll pretend he’s “not that into it” but the second you try to move away, he’s pulling you closer and mumbling something about how “this is the best bit.”

d = domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

he likes the idea of being domestic. he’ll do the cooking (questionably), burn the toast, and then help clean while dancing around the kitchen with you. he loves the comfort of building a life with someone, even if he forgets to take the bins out half the time.

e = ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

breakups would hit him hard. arthur would try to be brave and joke his way through it but end up spiraling halfway through the conversation. he wouldn’t be cruel - just heartbreakingly sincere, apologizing over and over and asking you to promise you’ll still talk, even if you both know you won’t.

f = fiancé(e) (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

he takes commitment seriously once he’s sure. and when he proposes, it’s not a performance - it’s a moment. he takes you somewhere that holds a quiet kind of meaning for both of you, somewhere that feels like the start of everything. and then, with shaking hands and a voice so soft it barely cuts through the breeze, he tells you he wants to spend forever right there - wherever you are.

g = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

so gentle. arthur might be loud or teasing in public, but in private, he’s so careful with your feelings. he’ll hold your face like you’re fragile, brush your hair behind your ear during an argument, and say your name like a prayer when you’re upset.

h = hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

constant. he’s a hugger by default. doesn’t matter if you’ve just seen each other five minutes ago - if he sees you again, you’re getting a full-body hug, maybe with a little spin. his hugs feel like home and smell like his cologne and laundry detergent.

i = i love you (how fast do they say the l-word?)

he says it too early and then panics. you’re mid-movie, he’s got popcorn on his lap, and suddenly he blurts it out, eyes wide. then immediately follows with “but no pressure!” you say it back, and he melts completely.

j = jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

jealous? yes. petty? never. he trusts you, but if someone flirts with you, he’ll wrap his arm around your waist and start kissing your cheek obnoxiously. he’s not angry - just very obvious that you’re his favorite person.

k = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

his kisses are soft, almost shy sometimes - like he’s savoring them. he loves kissing your nose, your forehead, your shoulder when you’re brushing your teeth. he likes being kissed on the temple or jaw, spots that make him go quiet with affection.

l = little ones (how are they around children?)

he’s been around little kids his whole life - being the third oldest of nine will do that to you. he’s surprisingly good with them, mostly because he is one at heart. he’ll sit on the floor and build lego castles for hours. he doesn’t flinch at mess or chaos, just takes it in stride with a crooked grin and a “been there.” and if he sees you holding a baby or talking softly to a kid? he’ll stare a little too long, heart full, already picturing a future where you’re doing that together.

m = morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

mornings are slow. he’s groggy, warm, and glued to you. if you try to get up, he’s dragging you back down with a sleepy “five more minutes” that turns into an hour. he’s definitely not the first to make the coffee - but he’ll hand it to you with a sleepy smile once it’s ready.

n = night (how are nights spent with them?)

nights are cozy, often filled with snacks in bed, late-night youtube videos, or him rambling about some weird dream he had. he sleeps best when you’re tangled together, his leg always draped over yours like he needs to know you’re there.

o = open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

he’s emotionally open in bursts. sometimes he’ll just say something deep in the middle of a light conversation, like “i think you’ve saved me in ways i don’t even know how to explain,” then go back to eating crisps like it was nothing. he doesn’t hide much - just needs space to process.

p = patience (how easily angered are they?)

arthur’s patient with people he loves. he might sigh dramatically if you’re running late, but he’s never mean about it. when you’re upset, he listens, even if he doesn’t always know what to say. he’s the guy who sits with you in silence just to make sure you’re not alone.

q = quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

he remembers everything. stuff you said once in passing? noted. your favorite snack combo? bought it. a dumb comment you made three months ago? quoted back at you during a game night. he’s always listening, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

r = remember (what is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

his favorite moment? the first time you fell asleep on his chest. he’ll bring it up quietly when he’s feeling sentimental. “d’you remember when you knocked out on me mid-movie? i didn’t even move for hours ‘cause i didn’t wanna wake you.”

s = security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

protective, but not possessive. he’ll walk you home, stand between you and a dodgy stranger, or wait for your text that you made it back safely. but he also likes when you protect him. he melts when you worry about him or fuss over a small injury.

t = try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he tries. sometimes his plans are chaotic or half-baked, but they’re so heartfelt. he’ll buy overpriced flowers on a whim, try to cook you dinner from a tiktok recipe, or make you a playlist that’s 70% jokes and 30% pure romance.

u = ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

he leaves socks everywhere. dishes in the sink? guilty. also: sings too loud in the shower. but he owns up to it and will clean if you ask - just with some light-hearted groaning and very loud music.

v = vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

he cares just enough. loves his hair. will pout if you mess it up after he styles it but also thinks it's hilarious when you wear his hoodie and it swallows you whole. doesn’t take himself too seriously - his self-confidence is natural, not performative.

w = whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

he’d never say he needs someone to be whole, but with you, he wants to be better. you bring out a version of him he didn’t know he could be. if you left, it’d leave a gap in his life that nothing else would quite fill.

x = xtra (a random headcanon for them.)

he sends you photos of random things that remind him of you. a weird frog toy, a sunset, a guy wearing your favorite color - doesn’t matter. he’s always thinking of you, and he makes sure you know it in the most random ways possible.

y = yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

he hates passive-aggressive behavior. just tell him what’s wrong - he’ll listen, promise. also can’t stand when people are rude to service workers or treat others like they’re less-than.

z = zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

moves so much in his sleep. flops over, steals the duvet, occasionally mumbles nonsense. but he’s also the coziest human heater. if you wake him up at 2am for cuddles? he’s instantly wrapping around you like a koala.

[twistedreads]

Heatwaves—Nicolandria

Summary- When Nic flies to Houston to reunite with his longtime flame Orlandria, a scorching Texas summer is nothing compared to the heat between them. From playful city adventures to steamy nights behind closed doors, the sparks they’ve carried for months finally ignite into an unforgettable blaze.

Warning-This story contains explicit sexual content, strong language, and adult themes. Intended for mature audiences (18+) only. Reader discretion advised.

A/n: this is for the freaky little freaks on tiktok talking about nicolandria, you know who you are. Enjoy you weirdos🤣

Nic shifted his weight from foot to foot outside Terminal C at Bush Intercontinental Airport, running a nervous hand through his dark curls. The Texas heat beat down on his shoulders, sticky and relentless, making his white linen shirt cling to his tan skin. He wore it unbuttoned low enough to show a hint of the gold chain at his neck. A slim pair of olive-green tailored trousers hugged his long legs, and white sneakers kept things casual.

Despite the stifling heat, he couldn’t stop grinning. His phone buzzed in his hand with another text.

Orlandria: I’m two minutes away. Don’t be scaring me acting like a tourist out there.

Nic typed back quickly.

Nic: Too late. I’m already looking for a cowboy hat.

He was still chuckling at his own message when he spotted a sleek black Tesla pulling up. The tinted window rolled down, revealing Orlandria with her cool, confident posture and a soft, knowing smile that made something flip over in his chest.

She stepped around the front bumper, sunlight catching on her butter-yellow knit dress that hugged her curves and fell mid-thigh. Her dark brown skin glowed in the Texas sun, smooth and radiant, setting off the glossy waves of her hair and the warm tones of her makeup.

Nic dropped his bag where he stood.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he breathed, voice low, chest already tight with how badly he’d missed her.

Orlandria rolled her eyes as she closed the distance. “Hi, cream.”

Then she was in his arms, wrapping around his waist as he bent to hug her close. Nic squeezed her tighter than he meant to, burying his face in the curve of her neck and inhaling the vanilla scent he’d dreamed about for months.

Orlandria leaned back slightly and tilted her chin up. Nic caught the silent invitation and kissed her—slow and deep, not frantic, but full of heat that curled like steam between them.

When they parted, Orlandria reached up and wiped his mouth with her thumb.

“You got chocolate all over your face,” she teased, a little breathless.

Nic grinned. “Don’t care. I love it.”

Orlandria gave him a look—somewhere between exasperation and affection—before grabbing his suitcase handle. “Come on. Let’s get you out of this heat.”

In the Tesla, Orlandria pulled away from the curb, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lightly on the console.

Nic turned sideways in his seat, studying her profile as he let out a low hum.

“Mmh. You look good,” he said, voice dropping slightly.

Orlandria shot him a skeptical glance but blushes. “Boy, don’t start.”

“I’m serious.” He reached over and gently took her free hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I love your hair like this. It’s different from the braids… but it’s gorgeous.”

Orlandria’s lips twitched, trying not to smile. “You’re just saying that ‘cause it’s new.”

“Nope.” Nic shook his head. “I’d love you bald. But this—” He grazed his fingers along the sleek waves framing her face. “—is beautiful. Makes you look like a movie star.”

Orlandria snorted lightly. “Mm-hm. So now I’m a movie star?”

“Yeah,” Nic said, flashing a grin. “You’re elegant, perfect… and honestly, kinda intimidating.”

Orlandria rolled her eyes, though her cheeks warmed as a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

They swung by a tiny coffee shop downtown, brick walls and soft jazz playing overhead. Nic insisted on paying, brushing off Orlandria’s protests with a wave of his hand. But as he reached for his wallet, his elbow clipped a towering display of muffins. A few wobbled dangerously.

“Nic…” Orlandria warned, one brow arching high.

“I got it!” Nic yelped, lunging to steady the tray just in time. He turned back to her, puffing out his chest. “See? Smooth. Very smooth.”

Orlandria gave him a long, flat look. “You’re a mess.”

Nic leaned closer, stage-whispering, “Yeah, but I’m your mess.”

Later, Orlandria drove them to a soul food spot in Third Ward—a bright, bustling place where the smell of fried chicken, collard greens, and sweet cornbread poured out onto the sidewalk.

The second they stepped inside, Nic stopped short, eyes wide.

“Yo,” he murmured, glancing around like he’d stumbled into a sacred temple. “I think I just died and went to heaven.”

“Sit your Florida self down,” Orlandria teased, grabbing his arm and steering him toward a booth. “I’m ordering for you.”

Nic looked half-thrilled, half-terrified. “Please go easy on me.”

Orlandria ordered them plates piled high with smothered pork chops, mac and cheese, greens, and candied yams. Nic took one bite of the mac and groaned so loudly a woman at the next table turned around.

“Oh my God,” he whispered. “Orlandria. Marry me. Right now.”

Orlandria snorted, grabbing a napkin and reaching across the table to dab at his chin. “You got sauce all over your face.”

“I. Don’t. Care,” Nic declared, eyes rolling back a little. “It’s worth it.”

Orlandria shook her head but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re so goofy.”

They spent the afternoon exploring the city. Nic insisted on stopping at murals for pictures, Orlandria posing with one hand on her hip while he snapped photos like a proud boyfriend. At the Galleria, he tried on a cowboy hat and made her nearly choke laughing.

“Howdy, ma’am,” he drawled. “Wanna ride off into the sunset?”

“Oh my God, please stop,” Orlandria groaned, shoving the hat off his head.

Nic caught her wrist gently, pressing a quick kiss to her fingers.

“Sorry. I’m just… I’m really happy right now,” he said, a softness creeping into his grin.

Orlandria sighed, shaking her head. “You’re corny.”

“And you’re stunning,” Nic shot back. “Deal with it.”

As the sun dipped lower over the city skyline, the Tesla ride back grew quiet. Nic’s thumb traced light circles over the back of her hand.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Are you sure you’re good with me staying over? We don’t have to… y’know. I’ll sleep on the couch if you want.”

Orlandria glanced over at him, thoughtful.

“I want you to stay,” she said finally, her voice dropping lower. “And I don’t want you on the couch.”

Nic swallowed, trying not to look too eager.

“Good,” he managed, voice a little hoarse.

Orlandria parked and turned off the car.

“Come on, Florida boy,” she murmured, sliding out and smoothing her dress over her hips. “Let’s go.”

Nic nearly tripped over his suitcase as he scrambled to keep up, grinning like an idiot.

Upstairs, Orlandria opened the door to her sleek apartment, warm lights flickering on. Nic took in the soft gold decor, the organized shelves, and the faint vanilla scent that hit him the moment he stepped inside.

“Damn,” he murmured. “This place is so… you.”

Orlandria arched a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means it’s beautiful, elegant… and kinda makes me feel like I gotta step my game up,” Nic said, dropping his bag. “Like you make me wanna be a better man.”

Orlandria blinked, quickly looking away as a shy smile curved her lips. “Shut up.”

Nic closed the space between them, tilting his forehead to hers.

“I missed you,” he whispered. “So much.”

Orlandria held his gaze for a long moment before leaning in and kissing him—a slow, lingering kiss that tasted faintly sweet, like her gloss.

When they pulled apart, she wiped his lips with her thumb.

“Chocolate. Again,” she teased.

Nic chuckled, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Told you. It’s worth it every time.”

Orlandria gave a small, secretive smile.

“Go get comfortable,” she told him, stepping back toward her bedroom. “I’m gonna change. And stay out of my snack cabinet.”

Nic pouted dramatically. “But that’s the best part!”

Orlandria shot him a look over her shoulder. “Nic.”

“Okay, okay!” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “No snack cabinet. For now.”

He watched her disappear into her room, feeling his pulse thunder in his ears—and knowing tonight might finally be the night he’d dreamed about for months.

Nic dropped onto the soft gray sectional, trying—and failing—to keep still. His knee bounced as he glanced at her bedroom door every few seconds.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, running a hand through his curls.

Breathe, man. Breathe.

He’d pictured this moment so many times. Orlandria’s place. Her scent in the air. The hush of the city outside. And the look in her eyes like maybe she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He was halfway debating whether to sneak a piece from the snack cabinet when he heard the bedroom door open.

Nic’s head snapped up—and his mouth went dry.

Orlandria stepped out in a soft white crop top and tiny black cotton shorts that barely covered her thighs. Her hair was still sleek and perfect, waves falling around her shoulders. Her curves were incredible—the sweep of her hips, the way the shorts hugged her ass like they were custom-made.

Nic let out a low whistle, leaning back against the couch like he needed the support.

“Woman, you’re killing me over here,” he groaned, pressing a hand dramatically to his chest.

Orlandria let out a light laugh. “You’re so dramatic.”

Nic sat up, eyes sweeping over her. “No, seriously. Damn. I’m trying to behave, but you’re making it real hard.”

Orlandria shifted her weight, folding her arms under her chest. “Well… who said you have to behave?”

Nic froze. Then a slow, wicked smile spread across his face.

“Oh. So that’s how it is?”

Orlandria lifted her chin, trying to look defiant, but he caught the slight tremor in her breath. “Maybe.”

Nic reached out and hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up. He brushed his lips over hers, feather-light.

“You sure?” he murmured. “Because… once I start, I’m not stopping until you’re shaking.”

Orlandria let out a soft huff. “Talk is cheap.”

Nic blinked—and then he was kissing her again, slow but deep, tongue sweeping in to taste the sweetness of her lips. Orlandria melted into him, arms winding around his shoulders as he backed her gently toward the couch.

They tumbled onto the cushions, laughter bubbling between kisses. Nic caught himself on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush her, his curls brushing her forehead.

“You good?” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Orlandria breathed, her fingers threading into his hair and giving it a gentle tug that pulled a low groan from his chest.

He kissed down her jaw, lingering where her pulse throbbed beneath her skin.

“You smell so good,” he whispered. “Always smelled good on the island… but this? Vanilla and… something else. Drives me crazy.”

A shiver rolled through her, eyes fluttering shut. “Mm….”

Nic shifted lower, pressing a trail of kisses down her neck, his stubble grazing her warm skin. His hands slipped under the hem of her crop top, thumbs circling lightly over her waist as he felt her tense beneath his touch.

When his fingers brushed higher, he paused and met her gaze. “Can I?” he rasped.

Orlandria nodded, catching her lower lip between her teeth.

Nic slowly pushed her crop top upward, revealing the soft swell of her breasts, nipples already peaked and flushed. His breath hitched, eyes darkening as he took her in.

“Fuck… look at you,” he murmured. “You’re… incredible.”

She squirmed beneath his gaze, heat flooding her cheeks. “Quit looking at me like that.”

“Not a chance,” Nic murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses between her breasts.

He circled his tongue around one nipple before drawing it into his mouth, sucking gently until she let out a shaky gasp, her fingers curling in his hair.

“God…” she breathed.

“God, you’re delicious,” he murmured against her skin, moving to lavish the other side with slow, wet flicks of his tongue. “I could lose myself in you all night.”

Orlandria arched into his mouth, her thighs pressing together as she shifted restlessly. “Need more.”

Nic lifted his head, eyes heavy-lidded and intent. “Say less.”

He trailed one hand down between her thighs, cupping her heat through her shorts. Feeling the warmth and dampness beneath his fingers, he let out a rough groan. “Damn… you’re already so wet for me.”

She sucked in a breath. “Nic please..”

He grinned before sliding her shorts down her legs and tossed them aside, revealing black panties already clinging damply to her skin. He traced one teasing finger along her center, making her hips jolt.

“Don’t tease,” she whispered.

“Easy, gorgeous,” Nic purred. “Let me have my moment.”

He planted open-mouthed kisses along her inner thighs, drawing a series of soft shivers from her. As he reached the edge of her panties, Orlandria’s hand suddenly pressed against his shoulder.

“Wait… be gentle at first. I’m sensitive.”

Nic’s features softened instantly. “Of course, baby.”

He hooked his fingers under the sides of her panties and slid them off in one smooth motion, then paused for a beat, eyes flicking up to hers. “Goddamn… you’re beautiful everywhere.”

A shaky laugh slipped from her lips. “Stop making me shy.”

Nic lowered his head and dragged his tongue in a slow, steady stroke from her entrance to her clit. Orlandria jolted, a sharp gasp tearing from her throat.

“Mm… a little softer,” she murmured, fingers weaving gently into his curls.

He immediately adjusted, easing his movements, giving her delicate flicks as his eyes flicked up to watch her reaction. “Like that?”

“Yeah… oh—faster now,” she breathed.

Nic obliged, flicking his tongue more rapidly, his hands firm on her thighs to hold her open. She let out a trembling moan, her hips rocking against his mouth.

“That’s it…” he rasped between licks. “You taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

Encouraged, he parted her folds with two fingers, his tongue tracing tight circles over her clit.

“Fuck… Nic… don’t stop…” Orlandria gasped, voice trembling.

“Never,” he growled, his voice vibrating against her slick flesh. He sucked her clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue while his fingers dipped lower to gently tease her entrance.

“Right there… oh my God…” she moaned, hips jerking toward him. “I’m… I’m so close—”

“Let go for me,” Nic murmured. “I wanna feel you shake.”

Orlandria’s thighs clamped around his head as her orgasm rushed through her. A raw cry ripped from her as her body arched off the couch, trembling with release. Nic kept licking her gently until her shudders eased, then finally pulled back, lips glistening, chest rising and falling in quick breaths.

“Still taste like heaven,” he panted, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Orlandria lay sprawled across the couch, breathless, eyes half-lidded. “Get up here.”

Nic crawled over her, capturing her mouth in a deep, searing kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue and let out a low, helpless moan, pulling him closer until their chests pressed together.

When he tried to draw back for air, Orlandria followed, chasing his mouth until she caught it again, the kiss growing hungrier and more demanding.

When he finally managed to pull away, he rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard.

“Fuck… you know that drives me insane,” he rasped.

A sly grin curved her lips. “I know.”

He kissed her once more, lingering, then leaned back just enough to look into her eyes. “Think we’re gonna need more space for what I’m about to do to you.”

Orlandria blinked, still dazed. “What…?”

Nic slipped an arm beneath her shoulders and another under her knees. With a quick, effortless motion, he scooped her off the couch as if she weighed nothing.

“Nic!” she squealed, her arms flying around his neck.

“Told you,” he murmured, pressing a hot kiss to her temple as he carried her toward the bedroom. “Once I start, I’m not stopping until you’re shaking again.”

Nic nudged Orlandria’s bedroom door open with his foot, still holding her close. Soft lamplight spilled over satin pillows and pale sheets, wrapping around his senses as he stepped inside.

“Damn,” he breathed. “Even your bedroom looks expensive.”

Orlandria squinted at him, still holding onto his shoulders. “Really? I think it looks normal.”

Nic let out a low chuckle, continuing forward. “Baby… you’ve got more throw pillows than my entire apartment has furniture.”

As he spoke, he slowly bent forward, gently lowering her onto the mattress.

“Your bed’s all fancy. Your sheets feel like butter. And your room smells like a damn spa and a bakery had a baby,” he teased, bracing his palms on either side of her hips as he hovered above her.

Orlandria tried—and failed—to hide a grin. “Shut up.”

Nic’s eyes dropped to her bare chest, then back to her flushed face.

“God, you’re unreal,” he murmured. “I can’t believe you’re all mine.”

Orlandria’s eyes darted away, shy heat coloring her cheeks. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

“I mean every word,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles along her cheek. “And you’re gonna hear all of it tonight.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but Nic leaned in and kissed her again, slow and deep. When he pulled back slightly, his breath mingled with hers, his eyes hooded with desire.

Orlandria lay completely naked beneath him, glowing in the lamplight, dark waves spilling over the pillows, chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths.

“Shit… you’re unreal,” he breathed, voice raw. “All of this… just for me?”

Orlandria’s gaze shifted away for a moment, a vulnerable softness flickering across her features despite the heat sparking between them. “Yours.”

“Good,” Nic whispered.

He lowered his head, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her chest, lingering as he suckled gently at each nipple until she was shifting beneath him, soft gasps escaping her lips.

Then he trailed lower, dragging his tongue slowly down the center of her stomach.

Orlandria’s breath hitched, but she reached out and gently tugged his curls.

“Hold up.”

Nic blinked, surprised. “Huh?”

Orlandria nudged at his shoulders until he pushed back onto his knees, still positioned between her thighs. She glanced down at the way his trousers strained over the obvious bulge beneath them, then back up with a wicked little smile.

“You’re still wearing too many clothes,” she murmured.

Nic let out a breathless laugh. “I was… y’know… trying to focus on you.”

“I know, and that’s sweet, but…” Orlandria trailed off, already working the button of his pants. “Let me see you.”

Nic lifted his hips a bit, helping her shove his trousers and boxer briefs down. The instant his cock sprang free—thick, flushed, already glistening at the tip—Orlandria’s eyes went wide.

“Oh, shit…” she blurted, unconsciously licking her lips. “You’ve been hiding all that from me?”

Even while panting, Nic managed a crooked grin. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

Orlandria gave him a look like she couldn’t decide whether to slap him or praise him. “How the hell do you even walk around with that thing?”

Nic barked out a short laugh. “Very carefully. And with loose-fitting pants.”

Orlandria narrowed her eyes, glancing down again. “It’s… pretty.”

Nic blinked, stunned. “Wait. Did you just call my dick pretty?”

Orlandria lifted her chin, eyes sparkling. “Yeah. I did. It’s… nice to look at.”

Nic stared at her, dazed. “No one’s ever… uh… used that word for it before. I’m… honored?”

Orlandria burst into laughter, the sound warm and musical, then gave him a playful shove in the chest.

“God, you’re ridiculous,” she said, still grinning.

Nic rocked back slightly but steadied himself—and suddenly reached behind his neck, gripping the back of his shirt. In one smooth motion, he pulled it over his head, leaving his curls messier and his chest flushed and heaving.

Orlandria blinked, her eyebrows shooting up as her gaze traveled over him. “Okay… show-off.”

Nic smirked, tossing the shirt aside. “Figured if we’re appreciating pretty things, I should contribute.”

Orlandria rolled her eyes, though her eyes were dark with heat. She pressed her palms to his chest and gave him another firm push until his back hit the headboard, arms splaying out for balance.

Before he could speak, she dipped forward, pressing slow, wet kisses across his chest.

Nic sucked in a sharp breath, watching her with wide eyes as her mouth trailed lower, lips gliding over the flat planes of his abs, lingering in the hollow between his muscles.

“Damn…” he rasped, voice breaking as her tongue flicked lightly across his skin.

Orlandria didn’t answer—she just kept kissing lower, her hair brushing his stomach as she worked her way down.

Nic let out a helpless groan, fingers twisting into the sheets as she moved closer, her warm breath ghosting over his skin. When her hand finally wrapped around him, he jolted, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat.

“Shit… okay… message received…” he panted, his abs tightening as he fought the urge to thrust into her grip.

Orlandria let out a satisfied hum, stroking him again as she settled between his thighs.

Nic tipped his head back against the headboard, panting, eyes glazed. “Jesus… you’re gonna kill me.”

“Oh, hush,” Orlandria murmured, leaning closer. “You’ll survive.”

She flicked her tongue over the tip, tasting the bead of pre-cum there. Nic let out a sharp, ragged moan, one hand flying into her hair.

“Jesus… baby…” he panted, voice trembling.

Orlandria shot him a wicked look from beneath her lashes. “Mmm… pretty and sensitive. I like it.”

Nic huffed out a breathless laugh that turned into a groan as she licked him again, slower this time, tracing the ridge beneath the head.

“Oh my God… baby… you’re…” His voice dissolved into a strangled sound as she took more of him into her mouth, lips sealing around him.

Orlandria sucked gently, easing back and swirling her tongue over the tip before sinking lower again, taking him deeper with each stroke.

Nic clenched his fists in the sheets, jaw dropping open. “Shit… Orlandria… that’s… oh my God…”

She pulled back slightly, her fist stroking the base as she spoke. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

“It’s perfect,” Nic choked out, voice tight. “Fuck… it’s perfect…”

Orlandria lowered her head again, picking up the pace, bobbing her mouth along his length while her hand twisted and squeezed at the base.

Nic’s chest heaved, sweat beading at his hairline. “I’m gonna… shit… baby, I’m gonna come—”

Orlandria sucked harder, humming around him, and Nic let out a broken cry as he spilled into her mouth, his hips jerking helplessly.

He slumped back against the headboard, trembling, as Orlandria pulled off him and swallowed, wiping her mouth delicately.

Nic stared at her in wide-eyed wonder. “Jesus Christ…”

Orlandria smirked, wiping the corner of her lip with her thumb. “That should help you last longer later.”

Nic let out a breathless, shaky laugh. “Yeah… shit… definitely. You’re a menace.”

She smiles, shimmying closer and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

Nic moans in satisfaction, pulling her into his lap, still panting.

Orlandria arched an eyebrow, eyes drifting down. “Condom.”

“On it,” Nic said, grinning as he reached for the gold foil packet on the nightstand, his cock already twitching back to life under her gaze.

Nic tore open the foil and rolled the condom on, his chest still heaving as he tried to calm the fire burning through his veins.

Orlandria tilted her head, her lips curved in a sultry little smile as she traced her fingers over the ridges of his abs. “Look at you. Already hard again.”

Nic shot her a dark look, half wild with lust. “Baby, that mouth of yours is gonna get you in a lot of trouble.”

Orlandria shimmied closer until she was straddling his thighs, her bare skin pressing hot against his. She leaned in and brushed her lips across his jaw. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

Nic let out a guttural noise, grabbing her hips tight enough to leave fingerprints. “Jesus Christ… I gotta pace myself. Give me a sec.”

Orlandria raised a brow, cocking her head. “You’re nervous again?”

Nic shut his eyes, muttering under his breath. “Penguins. Taxes. Baseball. Grocery lists…”

She laughed, the sound vibrating through her whole body. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, well, you’re about to fuck that right outta me,” Nic shot back, eyes blazing as he opened them again. “Alright. I’m good. Get on it.”

Orlandria blinked, heat flushing her cheeks at the sudden change in his tone. “Yes, sir.”

She reached down, wrapped her hand around him, and guided him to her entrance. Nic’s breath stuttered out, a tremor running through his powerful frame.

“Slow,” he ground out. “Go slow, pretty girl.”

Orlandria nodded and began to sink down on him, inch by inch. Nic’s jaw clenched so tight the muscles popped as he watched himself disappear into her.

“Holy shit… look how perfect you take me,” he groaned, voice ragged.

Orlandria gasped, her brow furrowing as she adjusted. “Shit… you’re… so deep…”

Nic sucked in a shaky breath, fingers flexing on her hips. “Breathe through it. I swear I’ll make it good. You’re perfect… fuck…”

When she finally bottomed out, she rested there a moment, trembling slightly. Nic stared down, utterly entranced by the sight of her wrapped tight around his glistening shaft.

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he rasped. “Fuck, baby.”

Orlandria rolled her hips experimentally. Nic let out a feral growl, thrusting up to meet her halfway.

“Yeah… just like that,” he gritted out. “Feel how deep I am? You’re takin’ all this dick like it’s yours.”

Orlandria’s eyes fluttered shut, soft whimpers slipping past her lips as she began to move faster.

Nic dropped one hand to her ass, squeezing hard, then delivered a sharp smack that echoed in the room. Orlandria let out a startled cry, hips jerking.

“Fuck!”

Nic smirked, leaning forward to nip at her bottom lip. “Mmm… love that sound. You like getting your ass slapped, pretty girl?”

Orlandria’s lashes fluttered, cheeks blazing. “Maybe…”

Nic slapped her ass again, firmer this time, making the flesh jiggle under his hand. “Say it.”

“Okay… I like it,” she gasped, voice trembling as she rocked against him. “Nic… god… right there…”

“That’s my girl,” he growled, his free hand snaking between them to rub tight circles over her clit.

Orlandria practically sobbed, her thighs quivering as the pleasure built.

“Fuck… fuck… I’m so close…”

“Don’t hold back,” Nic growled, voice thick. “I wanna feel every bit of you.”

Orlandria’s walls clamped down around him as she came with a broken cry, her head thrown back, hair cascading down her spine like black silk.

Nic kept rubbing her clit, coaxing every last pulse from her, his own chest heaving.

“The way you fall apart for me… fuck, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Orlandria slumped forward against his chest, panting, shivering in aftershocks.

Nic tangled his fingers in her hair and gently tugged her head back to look at her. “Don’t think we’re done,” he murmured.

Then he flipped her onto her back in one smooth motion, keeping himself buried inside her. Orlandria squealed, grabbing at his shoulders.

“Nic! Oh my god…”

Nic hovered over her, eyes wild, sweat glistening on his chest. “You look so fuckin’ good laid out like this. I’m not stopping ‘til you come again.”

He pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back into her, deep and hard. Orlandria screamed, her legs flying up to lock around his waist.

“Shit… Nic… you’re gonna… fuck…”

“Yeah, baby. You take it. You take all of it,” he panted, hips pistoning into her relentlessly.

He dropped his mouth to her breast, sucking hard at her nipple while his hips never slowed. Orlandria clawed at his back, eyes rolling back.

“Oh fuck… Nic… I’m gonna come again…”

Nic lifted his face, eyes burning. “Good. Come for me again. Make me feel it. Let me feel how tight you get when you come.”

Orlandria shattered beneath him, her entire body trembling as she clamped down on him, a long, strangled moan tearing from her throat.

Nic roared as her orgasm dragged him over the edge. He pounded into her one last time, burying himself deep as his own release hit him like a freight train, every muscle locked tight as he emptied himself into the condom.

For several moments, all either of them could do was gasp for air.

Nic finally slumped to the side, pulling her against him. His hair was damp, his chest still heaving as he pressed messy kisses along her shoulder.

“Jesus… I’m moving to Texas,” he muttered hoarsely.

Orlandria let out a breathless laugh, voice shaky. “I thought you said you needed home-field advantage.”

Nic gave her ass one last light smack, grinning. “Nah… I like playing away games.”

Orlandria rolled her eyes, but a soft smile tugged at her lips as she curled into his chest, both of them wrecked, sated, and hopelessly tangled.

[lumirimay]

You saying that Taehyung is lucky to have ended up in BTS made me think about how he got into the group in the first place which in turn made me think the same for each member and I just realized that the only members that from the very beginning wanted to be idols in a k-pop group are Jimin and Jungkook.

Namjoon and Yoongi wanted to be rappers and producers and J-Hope came in as a hip-hop dancer and all three initially thought they were going to be in a hip-hop group but then a bunch of vocalist started getting added and all of a sudden they were in a k-pop group.

Jin and Taehyung didn't even intend to be in a group at all. Taehyung biggest connection to music was him playing a bit of the saxophone and Jin was studying to be an actor. They didn't even audition on purpose, Taehyung was just accompanying his friend who was the one auditioning and Jin just got stopped in the street by someone who worked in Bighit and got added cause they thought the group needed a visual. Neither of them initially wanted to be singers let alone dancers.

But Jimin and Jungkook auditioned with the intention of being in a k-pop group. They liked singing and dancing since they were kids and wanted to become idols. And you know what I mean when I say idol right? Cause that's a very specific job that requires someone to do a number of different things at the same time, it's not just being a singer or being a member of a musical group.

So when I think about this then it makes sense why Jimin and Jungkook have always been the main members of the group, the most popular ones and the best at being idols. Like I would not be surprised if they're the only ones still interested in making the group go back to what it used to be while all other members would prefer to go back to whatever the hell they were doing during Be and Proof (some members would actually prefer to not be in a group at all but the group is coming back no matter what so I'm just talking about what they want for the group).

Even with their solos carrers you see the difference. I'm not trying to disrespect Jimin's music by comparing it to Jungkook's but their careers are more similar to each other's then to the other five. They're the only ones who have that singer/dancer combo and are the ones who make the most mainstream music (difference in quality aside). J-Hope has been trying to replicate this but for 90% of his carrer he wasn't and he's only doing it now to try to get the type of success only Jimin and Jungkook have managed to and not because this is something he actually likes or that fits him.

But another thing that make sense is why they seem to get along so well. A question many pjms have asked themselves is why Jimin likes spending so much time with Jungkook and I think this is a major reason as to why.

You see, to people like them their job isn't just somewhere they go to for x hours and then come back home and not think about it until the next shift. Being an idol in an all-encompassing job, they're doing it and thinking about it 24/7. And it's not just about that, cause the same can be said for all members, but it's also something the two of them genuinely love doing. It's their dream in a way it's never been for the others. It's something that is very important to them so the fact that they have that in common with each other, more so than with any other member, explains why they often seem to prefer each other's company (not all the time obviously but at this point it can't really be denied they sure do it a damn lot).

I think about this story Jimin told Namjoon in one of the minimoni videos about how he, Jungkook and Yoongi were having a drink together and Jimin and Jungkook got so distracted talking about singing that they just forgot Yoongi was also there and just kept talking to each other for hours. Or the stories about how while they were in the military they would sing in the shower and get away from the other soldiers to sing or how they would talk about what clothes they were going to wear, what songs they were going to do and what their performances were going be like before they went to sleep.

If you notice a lot of their friendship seems to revolve around their job which makes sense when you consider what I said about how that job is a very big and important part of their lives. And this is what I think actually makes them close. Jikookers think it's because they're in love and dating but I think it's simply because they're the only members who are idols not just because they're a part of a k-pop group but because they genuinely love it and embody it (I think Jimin is much better at it, he's THEE idol to me, but this isn't really about how good they are at it but about how much it means to them).

Of course it's not like they're twins (thank god) and in recent years Jimin added making music to the list of things he loves doing (same could not be said about Jungkook), which is something he has in common with the rapline now. But that's only in recent years and the prior almost a decade before that still has a big impact in the dynamics they all have now. And ultimately I still think that in the context of their job (which again is a very vital context to them) Jungkook is still the member who's the most similar to Jimin.

Anyway, I was just having all these thoughts and wanted to share. Hopefully no one calls me a jikooker for saying Jimin and Jungkook are close 💀

I’d never thought about it like this, but you’re right. They are the two that most wanted to be “idols” or singers/performers, and they are the two that were arguably the most dedicated to the group, and seem to be the two that are somewhat still invested in it. I mean, I know for sure Jimin is because he’s said so, but I don’t know about jk? I think he has bigger dreams as a soloist than just doing bts now, but would never leave the group or deprioritise it. 

They also have been similar-ish in the past at least in their approach to being performers, very perfectionist, incredibly hard on themselves and hardworking. I’m thinking about how on their tours, it’s always those two who would collapse from exhaustion or get injured because of how much they give to each performance, and how much they overdo it. So yes, I do think a great deal of their bond and connection is because of their shared love of being performers, and also their shared and very unique experience of being in bts, but also being it’s two most important members, among RM. 

They also now have the shared experience of doing military together so that’s another huge life changing experiences which they share. So bonded for life? Who knows. lol

[akairawrites]

Kiss me thru the phone | e!42 Miles Morlaes

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It always started the same way.

A buzz on her phone. 1:47 a.m.

Miles

“You up?”

Y/n stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the reply button, already smiling. Her room was dark except for the soft amber glow of her salt lamp and the faint flicker of the city skyline beyond the window. It had become a ritual between them—one he kept, even when everything else in their lives felt like it was constantly unraveling.

She typed back.

Y/n

“Of course. You always call at this hour.”

And sure enough, seconds later, her phone lit up with his name.

“Hey,” his voice rasped, tired but warm. She could hear the distant hum of the city behind him—sirens, a honking horn, maybe even wind rushing past. He was somewhere above the skyline again.

“You sound beat,” she said softly.

“Yeah. Long night,” he murmured. She could picture him now, sitting on the edge of some rooftop with his hoodie covering his head, one hand cradling the phone, the other probably nursing a new bruise.

“You okay?”

“I am now.”

She sighed, settling deeper into her blanket, her body curling like she was trying to make space for him beside her. “You shouldn’t say things like that if you’re not gonna be here to back it up…or at least tell me what you’ve been doing.”

“I wish I could,” he whispered. And she could tell he meant it.

The version of Miles the world knew —The Prowler— was nothing like the boy she got on the other end of the phone each night. Here, he wasn’t guarded. Wasn’t angry. Just vulnerable and soft-spoken.

Just hers.

“I was looking at our old photos earlier,” she admitted. “The one where we snuck into that museum exhibit and you wore sunglasses inside like an idiot.”

He laughed quietly. “I was tryna look cool for you.”

“You looked blind, Morales.”

“Blindly in love,” he teased. Then added, more seriously, “Still am.”

She didn’t answer that—not with words. Just silence. The kind that said me too without needing to be said.

He filled the pause. “When this is all over… I’m gonna come over. For real this time. None of this five-minute phone call, ‘kiss-me-through-the-phone’ bullshit.”

Her chest tightened. “You always say that.”

“And I always mean it.”

“Then prove it,” she whispered.

“I will.” His voice broke for a second. “You’re the only thing that keeps me from falling too far.”

She blinked away tears. “Just… if anything happens—”

“Nothing’s gonna happen. I got too much to lose.”

The line went quiet again, but neither of them hung up. They never did. Sometimes they’d just fall asleep like that—him on some rooftop, jacket zipped halfway down, and her curled under the covers with his voice in her ear.

He used to be just a boy from Brooklyn with almost nothing to lose. Now he was a legend they whispered about in alleyways, a name everyone feared.

But to her? He was just Miles. The kid who drew constellations on her arms with sharpie and got paint in her hair when they snuck into art class after hours.

The boy who never stopped calling. Even when the world was falling apart.

⸻

That night, as the city buzzed and Miles disappeared into shadow once more, Y/n kissed the phone screen and whispered, “Goodnight.”

Far above, on a ledge coated in rain and moonlight, he smiled faintly.

“Goodnight, baby.”

And then he was gone.

But the line stayed open.

Bonus:

Y/n stirred, shifting beneath the blankets but not waking.

Then she felt it—warmth at her back. A presence that hadn’t been there before.

A hand, careful and trembling, brushed her side. Then her hair. Then a breath, warm against the nape of her neck.

She blinked her eyes open, slow and dazed. At first, she thought it was a dream. Maybe a cruel one. Maybe the best kind.

Then she felt him nuzzle gently into her shoulder, burying his face in the crook of her neck like he was trying to inhale the scent of her skin. Like it would calm whatever storm had been ripping through him.

“Miles?” Her voice was rough with sleep, thick with disbelief.

He didn’t speak at first. Just wrapped an arm around her waist from behind, pulling her closer, his body soaked with rain and shaking slightly.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “It’s me.”

Her heart cracked open, spilling all the ache she’d been holding back. She turned slowly in his arms, blinking up at him in the dim light.

He looked exhausted. soaked and bruised.

But there.

“I left the window open,” she murmured.

He nodded, voice thick. “I know. I saw the light on… thought maybe—maybe you were waiting.”

“I was.”

He exhaled shakily, pressing his forehead to hers. “I needed to feel you. Just for a minute. I’ll go if—”

“Don’t,” she said quickly, her fingers clutching the back of his shirt. “You’re staying.”

Miles didn’t argue. He just let himself collapse into her arms, letting her pull the blanket over both of them.

And for a long time, they didn’t speak.

She just curled against him, and he held her like he’d been unraveling without her.

Finally, she whispered, “Didn’t think you’d actually show.”

Miles turned, brushing her lips with his own not through a screen, not wrapped in the static of midnight signals, Just them.

“Well I’m here now,” he said. “No more phone kisses.”

Then he kissed her for real.

[obitez]

Flying High

For the Buck/Tommy Hiatus Event Week 6: Firsts | Ao3 Link

Until Buck had met Tommy, there were a lot of things he had never done. Some were obvious, like kissing a man, and having sex with a man, and (as far as Buck was aware of) flirting with a man. Others were not so obvious, like going to his first professional basketball game (that he should have honestly just let Tommy and Eddie go alone together for), or finally going hiking on one of the many trails around LA (after claiming hiking was one of his hobbies the past seven years), and to the surprise of almost everyone he told, going flying. 

🚁 🚁 🚁 🚁 🚁

Tommy needed to give Buck a distraction. He knew Gerrard had taken back control of the 118 two weeks ago (he still wasn’t sure how that had happened, and talking to everyone else, neither had they), and he could tell the entire thing was putting Buck through the ringer. 

“I swear, he has it out for me,” Buck said when they met for lunch the other day. 

“What do you mean by that?” Tommy asked. From his experience, Tommy would think that Buck would be that last person on the team for Gerrard to have a grudge against. 

Buck let out a long sigh. “After whatever happened with you guys ten years ago, he doesn’t want to single out Hen and Chimney for anything. He’s tried pressing Eddie’s buttons a couple times, but Eddie is somehow able to not give him a reaction. So that leaves me,” Buck said, pointing at himself. “And let me tell you, it’s exhausting."

“Have you guys put in a complaint yet?” Tommy asked, knowing that was how they got him removed in the past. 

Buck scowled. “Of course we have, but he’s playing it smart,” Buck muttered. “Headquarters came back saying and I quote ‘we understand your feelings on the matter and how change of commands can be rocky at the start, but by the rules and regulations of the LAFD we cannot remove a Captain from their command simply due to a conflict of personalities’.” 

Tommy raised an eyebrow, surprised. “What exactly did you put in the report?” 

Buck sighed. “That’s what I mean when I said he was playing it smart. Yeah, he’s pushed everyone’s buttons and has been nit picky on a bunch of stuff neither Bobby nor anyone, even the chief has cared about, but he hasn’t actually done anything against any of the rules yet.” 

That sounded like something much more like the Gerrard Tommy knew would do. 

“Well…” Tommy said. “I really wish I could help you.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Buck said, dejected. It wasn’t that he had expected for Tommy to come up with some miraculous solution for them, he knew that if Tommy had thought of anything, Tommy would tell him. He was just tired of having no option or say in the matter. 

“Just keep a look out for each other,” Tommy said. “I’m sure he’ll revert to his old ways eventually,” and boy was that the last thing Tommy wanted Buck to deal with. Gerrard was bad enough when he wasn’t being a racist, misogynistic whatever you wanted to call him.  “Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to distract you from this when you’re not working,” Tommy then added. 

“Distract me?” Buck asked as he leant in and gave Tommy a waggle of an eyebrow. “Like… going back to your place after this?”

“Well… I was thinking of something else,” Tommy said. “But we can always do that too.”  

🚁 🚁 🚁 🚁 🚁

So yeah, Tommy needed to find a way to distract Buck from the facts of life that he couldn’t change. 

There was something that he thought could help. He typed up a message to send to Buck.

Tommy: Hey, are you free this weekend? Was thinking about finally fulfilling my offer of a helicopter ride. 

Buck had seen the message about an hour later, and reading it, his mind began whirling. 

Buck had never gone up in a plane, or helicopter, or… well any type of aviation vehicle really. 

Growing up, the Buckley family hadn’t really met up with extended family members all that much. When they did, they were all somewhere else in Pennsylvania, or nearby in New Jersey or Maryland, all well within driving distance. When it came to family vacations and the like, his parents didn’t see the reason to go down to Disney World or the like, not when there was Hershey Park and Dutch Wonderland both within a twenty minute drive of their house. They mainly went to one of the beach towns in Maryland and New Jersey, or camping somewhere in the Poconos. 

And once Buck left Hershey, he just drove himself everywhere. 

From Hershey to Chicago to Montana, even down to Peru, he drove the Jeep everywhere. When it had broken down when he was in the Fire Academy, the mechanic had looked at the odometer in shock, saying it had had the highest mileage he had ever seen on a Jeep, which certainly made Buck wilt when he realized that it wouldn’t be able to be fixed. 

So yeah, Buck had never gone up in the air. Getting in the helicopter to go save Bobby and Athena had been his first time. And what with the night sky, rain, adrenaline, and stress about how pseudo-father’s life, Buck wasn’t able to take the time to actually process what was going on around him. 

But now he could. 

… a helicopter ride?  

… with his hot helicopter boyfriend? 

How could he say no to that? 

Buck grabbed his phone, a large and excited smile stretching across his face as he typed a message out to Tommy. 

Buck: That sounds awesome! I’d love to go with you!

🚁 🚁 🚁 🚁 🚁

“You want to know something interesting?” Buck asked as Tommy was finishing up the last of the pre-flight checklist he needed to perform before they could climb into the helicopter and take off. 

“What is it?” Tommy asked as he checked off the last box on the list. 

Buck followed after him as Tommy went over to drop the clipboard with the checklist off, speaking. “That night we went to go save Bobby and Athena was the first time I flew in a helicopter.” 

“Really?” Tommy asked, not that surprised really. It wasn’t everyday people got to fly on helicopters unless their jobs expressly involved it. 

“Yeah,” Buck said as they turned around to walk back over to the helicopter. “Actually, that was the first time I flew on any air vehicle, really.”

“Really?” Tommy asked, actually surprised by that admission. It wasn’t all that often that he ran into someone who had never flown before, especially for someone as well traveled as Buck. 

“Yeah,” Buck shrugged. “I almost went up in a hot air balloon once, well technically you can say I did, but I don’t really count that,” he said as his thoughts drifted back to the failed date with Abby, and the rescue that had happened a couple days before that. 

Tommy passed him a headset as he powered the helicopter on. “Well then, I guess I really have to make this great.”

Buck smiled, large and eager. “Oh, you know it.”

[erieotter]

THE LANDOSCAR PAST PIASTRELL FIC OMGOMGGGGGGG GORGEOUS CONCEPT!!!! would love to know anything you’d tell us about it 🙏🙏

wip ask game!

ok yeah this one makes me feel like a madman so let's get into it!!!

walk with me. lando and max are at a club over break, lando is drunk and bitchy because oscar isn't texting him back (lando cannot be normal about oscar despite swearing he doesn't feel any type of way about him) and makes a comment about how oscar is probably asleep because he's so boring, is probably even boring in bed, and max who is also on the rough side of buzzed says some throwaway comment like "well no he's actually quite good in bed but cheers" and lando just. cannot even think about it at all.

lando kind of forgets about it for the rest of the night because he's drunk and exhausted and thinks max was probably just chatting shit but then he wakes up the next morning feeling like something Terrible has happened, just a ball of anxiety and can't remember why. he has a text from oscar asking if he got home okay because he pretty much chucked his phone into his pocket after max decided to blow the trajectory of his life up and that's nice, he likes waking up to texts from oscar, so he sends oscar a selfie for proof of life and oscar calls him immediately.

i imagine the conversation goes a little something like: oscar speaking at a normal volume, lando telling him to quiet down because he's quite literally dying, says something like "gentle, osc" !! oscar says "that what you want? me to be nice to you?" which, obviously. oscar tsks, tells him no, he doesn't think he'll be very nice because lando couldn't be bothered to text him when he got back to the hotel, tells him he had to text max to make sure lando wasn't face down in a ditch somewhere and oscar saying max's name out loud just makes lando remember everything and suddenly he's throwing up off the side of the bed and he can still hear oscar on the line but can't bring himself to do anything but hang up the phone.

he spirals, obviously. max and lando go golfing later that day and lando's been thinking about max and oscar hooking up (was it serious? was it actually good?) for hours and finally just starts asking inappropriate questions because he can't help himself. that convo is basically lando saying "so when you and oscar were like --" and max says "fucking?" and lando whines and scrunches up his nose and tells max not to say it like that, and so max says "you'd prefer it if i said we were making love?" and that upsets lando so much he has to go sit in the shade.

lando essentially just keeps asking max intrusive questions about what oscar's like in bed while simultaneously ignoring oscar's texts and phone calls and max answers all of them because he knows how lando is. lando entertains the idea of being in love with max because surely it's not Oscar Piastri of all people and again max entertains it, even lets lando try kissing him (it's horrible) because he knows lando will come to the conclusion on his own.

i will again draw everyone's attention to this oscar because it's the oscar that was hooking up with max and i think that's beautiful. it's unfortunately also the oscar that was obsessed with lando and used to love when max would tell stories about him and was like. vicariously getting to know/crushing on lando through max.

the concept of oscar being max's before he was lando's while still being lando's in spirit is Intriguing to me. very much so.

my reservation with this one is that the nortrell dynamic is so specific and so solid and almost too real for me to touch if that makes sense. i can't imagine really nailing it the way i'd need to for this fic but i'm doing some research deep dives as we speak so we'll see where we end up.

[cricky-butspicy]

I’m going to be slightly nicer to the slasher boys

Closeted trans reader either nonbinary or a trans man. The boys and reader have fun just flirting back and forth and ends up with them complementing how the readers chest or just how their outfit compliments their body well and it’s just an immediate mood shift with reader taking the compliment but maybe ends up with the reader crossing their arms over their chest

NOT NICER! MEAN TO MY BOYS PUTTING THEM IN SAD SCENARIOS (it's ok, they deserve it <3)

You think my slashers would sexualize you with their words? Only under explicit circumstances! They are actually very cautious about bringing body type things up in conversation because of their history with bullies pointing out their bodies so much throughout their lives. It's good to remember that these two are gigantic. Soleil is a whopping 6'11, nearly 7 whole feet tall and is so thin, Atlas can pretty much wrap both of his hands around his waist and have his hands touching (though, Atlas's hands are pretty big, he could do that with a lot of people probably.) The only things on him that are somewhat sizeable compared to the rest of him are his chest, upper arms, and his butt (but don't tell him that. He doesn't want his butt being acknowledged as sizeable even if Atlas tells him he likes it all the time.) He's pretty bony everywhere else. Atlas is also very tall and somewhat thin compared to a person that would normally be his size, he just packs some muscle in places that give him a little bit of an advantage, but that muscle only started appearing in high school. He was pretty thin for grade school and middle school, too.

Bodies aren't necessarily their favorite things to comment on because of this, unless it's Atlas in bed trying to be sexy, and that's mostly him asking if somewhere feels good on your body or generally talking you up. So, it's hard to imagine them actually doing this to the reader especially without knowing if it's a safe thing to do. If it's before you are dating, they probably don't know your stance on your body, which means it's a caution zone. They might say that you look extra nice in an outfit and that it fits you well, but they aren't describing it and they try not to point any areas out. UNLESS you are open about liking how you look or your body, then it feels a little safer for them to agree and compliment things like how jeans fit on you or the collar of your shirt being a good fit for you.

Once you are dating or if you are intimate? That's another story, but there is also probably some boundaries talked about before they go off the bat with it. It's like how Atlas will never comment on Soleil's wrists, knees, or ankles. Those are off limits for talking about, and he knows it. You'll get told that, too. No one wants anyone feeling bad or uncomfortable.

You probably get a similar conversation when to a point in your relationship where they want to be playful in that way with them being like, hey what's off limits? What are you comfortable with? Does anything I do make you uncomfortable and will anything make you uncomfortable?

You might be thinking, what about Soleil getting turned on all the time? Notice how it isn't with normally looking at the reader. It's with actions. Like feeling near his belt when checking on him after he got punched, or cuddling up to him and rubbing his chest when you were sleepy, and when he holds your hand or tries to wrap an arm around you and you reciprocate a little too enthusiastically for him to be ready for. Sure, if you wear something revealing, that's going to get him too, but it's hardly ever about your body. It's about you and your presence and actions.

Even with that, Soleil would never comment on your body unless in bed where he feels the need to make you know you are wanted and that you are perfect (and in that scenario, he still doesn't know what to say, so it's more of a general "you look nice naked?") He doesn't like people commenting on his body and barely lets Atlas do it unless they are deep in the throes of passion, so he's not going to do it to you. The most you are getting from Soleil is him calling you "pretty" "cute" "adorable" or something similar that might not be appreciated because the word may sound too feminine to some people, or saying you just look nice. He doesn't call out features, even if maybe some catch his attention more than others (hide your thighs, they aren't safe from his gaze. And probably your chest if you wear something accentuating it because he is a weak man for you, but he's not an ass and he's not a creep. You won't hear him talking about or even looking at your chest in public if he can help it, and hardly even in bed.) Something about Soleil is that he is hit or miss with a lot of interactions and socializing, but when their is a negative mood or energy shift, he can almost always catch onto it because he's anxious and thinks of the worst when things feel off. It's going to eat away at him.

He's going to wonder what happened and what went wrong, and if he connects it to him calling you something like "pretty" he might gently bring up if you don't like that word. He and Attie use it with each other all the time because they like the word and it makes them feel good. He knows that many people don't like the word pretty. His mom even told him is was strange for him to call other boys pretty even when that's what he thought. So, he gets it if you don't want to be called pretty. He'll apologize and ask for a new word. A special word that he can call you when he thinks you look nice that is a little more fun than just saying you look nice. He never wants you uncomfortable. He compliments you to make you feel good, not to make you upset.

Atlas would be more likely to have this happen with, even if it's unlikely. Maybe one day he feels cocky enough because you are wearing something that fits well, and he says "It does all the right things for you~" And maybe you take that in a way that he likes how your chest looks (Atlas is not a tit man even if he can appreciate them. He was probably talking about your ass if anything in all honesty, but if it's still a sore spot, he does hit it.) Atlas is perceptive. He notices you cover yourself and kind of stops and internally goes "Ooooh, I said the wrong thing right there." He kind of makes you both back up the conversation and apologizes.

"I didn't mean to call out your body. You do look nice today, but I didn't want you to think I was objectifying you or ogling. I promise I didn't mean it in an uncomfortable way. I only wanted you to know that I noticed that your outfit looks good. I'm not looking at you intensely."

Once he tries clearing that up he tries to get a better understanding of the situation through questions.

"Do you want me not to say anything in the future? Is there a better way you want me to say it? If you can tell me what made you uncomfortable, I can make sure to avoid it in the future, but I understand if you don't want to talk about it. I can simply not bring it up."

It's him giving you an opportunity to talk to him about this. He doesn't know how you are feeling deep down, he just knows he made you uncomfortable and upset, so he's trying to fix it and make sure that it doesn't happen again in the future, especially when he's trying to be nice to you. He is the same as Soleil on this. He compliments you to make you feel good, not to make you upset. You can decide if you want to explain in full detail or just in a quick, "I don't like my chest being noticed or talked about." You can even just leave it at "Please don't talk about my body." That's good enough for him. He won't. Not if you don't like it. He says "pretty" a lot, too, so if you don't like words like that, you'll have to tell him as well so he can find better words that he can make sure you like.

These guys are big on trying to communicate because that's the only way they'll figure out everything and make things work smoothly. Without it, they just assume things and take charge with what they have assumed. (And a lot of the time, they are pretty pessimistic with their assumptions. So, don't let them just assume whatever their fucky brains let them think about unclear situations.)

[bacchuschucklefuck]

january month of yuugi

[bmpmp3]

voicevox humming might also be good for those looking weird metallic noisy vocal synths if they're willing to play with the unpredictability of it because i had akashi on the absolutely wrong range setting for this song and he started breaking down like faulty motor