#Things to do in Naples
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
canisalbus · 1 year ago
Note
Is that canon!?! Was Machete just really naive/didn't really understand the implications of his relationship to Vasco? Did his mentor ever find out about them or discuss such things with him? I assume bc he didn't have parents, he kinda didn't get educated on sex or anything. Was it a big shock to realize he was "sinning"?
.
298 notes · View notes
antagonisht · 2 months ago
Text
one of the nice things about writing for me is that there's really only a few headcanon type things i'm seriously attached to and will write every time so for the most part i just have fun exploring different possibilities and angles over and over. for my diavolo thing since it's entirely non-canon (due to his stupid limited backstory plus knowing nothing about what he did in the 90s other than fight polnareff and kill the sorgelas/sorlatos...tho isn't the timeline weird for the latter. anyway) it's all about this freedom with only the constraints of "is this interesting" and "is this reasonable" (and, being a diavolohead also "does this make him understandable without simply making him a victim" bc like why would i want to just turn him into a different person). personally, i find writing like that hard...i like boundaries and limitations. i like trying to make something interesting about specific scenarios. so it's a challenge. it's a pretty nice one though. i feel satisfied so far.
2 notes · View notes
helianskies · 11 months ago
Note
After reading Bitter Teeth and knowing you speak Italian, are there scenarios and stories you'd still like to explore having Italy as your background? And what are you favorite Italian historical periods to play with?
holy moly, months later she's finally decided to give you some sort of answer to a very interesting ask! :'0
i'm sorry i'm on my knees i'm grovelling cake i'm so sorry
i'll be honest, i love italy, i love italian, i love italians, and i would love to use it as a setting more often if it suits a fic - in a heartbeat. having been to a fair few areas now (Puglia you're next on my list bby i promise) there are such beautiful places i would love to use as backdrops, even for short works. a little romantic trip to Verona, a wet weekend in Venice, a sea swim in the marina in Naples across the bay from Vesuvius...
i think it helps with writing when you've been somewhere and can weave in personal experiences or even memories. i'd like to do it more in general, though i find my mind is not programmed easily for fluffy encounters haha. but i have fond memories of italy and i'd love to use them more as inspiration.
(what i'm trying to say is i suffered climbing up Vesuvius after a morning spent walking Herculaneum and i want someone - toni, south italy, whoever! - to feel my pain!)
anywho. as for historical periods... i dunno. as a student i only ever studied Risorgimento onwards, and very politically-based. i think the Renascimento in Florence would be interesting. i really loved visiting Davide and Venere haha (my duomo experience on the other hand...). and i'd love to learn more of Venice as a kingdom. Roman Italy i guess is a must, though i've already dabbled. otherwise, i'm not too sure....
though, when in Rome... i could send toni to walk around the Colosseum and Roman Forum omgggg... let him walk around and have his thoughts... a lil' character study...
i am never getting over leaving the Colosseum and finding a public water dispenser with sparkling water.......
OH THE TEMPLES! there were temples in the Forum! there's the Tempio di Antonino (e Faustina, ahem) and the Tempio di Romolo just across the way! i remember my mind working overtime with that nugget. the romespa was stalking me tirelessly on that part of my trip. and i'm yet to be cured!
anyways i hope that has in some way answered your question(?). i've not put much thought into the italies as characters themselves - i don't feel the same kind of draw to them that i feel with toni - but it would be curious to. i'd love to do more research into Venice during the times of the Ottoman Empire, in its sort of golden era. i'm sure i've seen a documentary or two, and i may even have a book... hmmm...
so many little threads to follow and not enough hours in the day, sadly, to do so :')
thank you for sending in the ask, it gave me an excuse to look back on some much loved holiday pics haha (and sorry again for taking my sweet time responding!) :)
8 notes · View notes
lostand-notfound · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the making of eggplant parmesan (como, italy, 31/03/23)
8 notes · View notes
diari0deglierrori · 2 years ago
Text
Nvm, forget about Rome, I changed my mind again, this is actually my dream possibility and I’m about to explode just by thinking about it
1 note · View note
chemicalarospec · 4 months ago
Text
anybody else purposefully make decisions to become weirder in life or can I say that's something special about me
1 note · View note
adamfriedmanrealestate · 1 year ago
Video
youtube
LIVING and THINGS TO DO IN NAPLES FLORIDA
0 notes
s-awturn · 2 months ago
Text
Other Plans || F1 Grid
cw: babies being cute, still a little anguish, overcoming, deliverance (hehehehe) and I don't know what else to say. Spanish, French, and some poorly translated Dutch, blame Google.
starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1,
a/n: I rarely get requests for part 2, so don't judge me if I'm excited here. I loved writing the first part and I hope to make the second part just as good.
f i r s t p a r t
Tumblr media
LEWIS HAMILTON.
You never regretted leaving.
As you might have guessed, Lewis never called or cared and even though you knew he wouldn't call, it didn't hurt any less. You had hopes that he would care, that he would come around, but he never took a step towards you and you wouldn't make the first move. You and the baby — a healthy, restless girl —didn’t need him.
The first few months were not easy, by God, dealing with all the changes of pregnancy, the demands of work, as well as cleaning and organizing your home was the hardest thing in the world.
But it was all worth it when you held your little girl in your arms for the first time. Bree was beautiful and had powerful lungs, because she cried so loudly when you laughed with happiness at having her. Not even the fact that she had the same eyes as Lewis shook his happiness. She was yours, and nothing in the world would change that.
You, your mother and Bree were walking down one of the streets of London looking for Christmas decorations, Bree was on your lap, looking at everything curiously, you hadn't taken her to London yet, both because you wanted her to get used to the climate and the quiet life in Naples and because of fear, you still didn't feel ready to face Lewis, because you knew he was always in England, mainly in the capital.
“Mamma, look!” she pointed to the store across the street, with the Christmas decorations you were looking for. You gave a proud smile and kissed her cheek.
“Good job, little bee, let’s go get our colorful balls from Santa Claus” you crossed the street and due to carelessness, you ended up tripping over someone. “Oops, sorry, I didn’t y-...” you started to say, however your voice trailed off as you recognized fucking Lewis Hamilton.
“Y/N?” His eyes, identical to Bree’s, widened as he recognized you and the baby in your arms. You straightened up, hugging Bree against you.
“Lewis, how are you?” you said cordially, but there was no sympathy in your voice.
“Mhmm, Well, I'm fine... And you?”
“Wonderfully,” you remained impassive. “Well, Merry Christmas, Lewis,” you said, walking past him until your name was called by the pilot.
“I thought you would give me news...” he hesitated for a few seconds “news about her” Lewis’ eyes fell on Bree, who was looking at him with the same curiosity.
“And why should I, Lewis? You said you didn’t want to have a baby, that it would hinder your career.” You hit a nerve with Lewis, because since your departure, he couldn't help but wonder if he had done the right thing. “I had no obligation and have no obligation to give you news about my daughter.”
He came closer and you kept Bree away from him, you accepted and healed from the pain Lewis caused you, but you wouldn't allow him to do the same to your sweet little girl. Bree didn't deserve to be hurt by Lewis's selfishness.
“She’s mine too, Y/N, you can’t stop me from seeing her” he said and you finally lost your patience, so you asked your mother to take Bree to the store, you would meet them in a few minutes.
“Don’t use that horrible argument with me, Lewis Hamilton!” you pointed your finger in his face. “You made it clear that you didn’t want her! You never called to find out about her, not for me or my mother, so don’t come with ‘she’s mine too’ because I won’t fall for that! You didn't even think twice before saying you didn't want her! And now you want to demand your rights? What the fuck rights do you think you have?”
He took a step back, Lewis didn't expect you to have such an intense outburst of anger.
“Y/N, I-I wanted to turn things around, go after you,” he bit his lip, thinking about how to continue, “but I was embarrassed... But now I'm willing-...”
“But I’m not willing, Bree doesn’t need you, I don’t.” you said emphatically “My daughter doesn’t need you, your regret or anything that comes from you!”
He tried to articulate some sentence, but no sound came out of his mouth.
“Oh, that is if you have any shame, of course. But don’t worry, when Bree grows up, I’ll tell her about you and she’ll decide whether she wants you in her life or not.” You assured “Until then, continue being the ghost you have been for these two years”
And without giving him a chance to respond, you follow your mother and Bree into the store, trying to ignore the panic that was ravaging your entire body, you felt like you were about to faint. But hearing Bree's spontaneous, sweet laugh was like feeling a cool breeze on a hot day; you didn't know how, but you were sure that Lewis would stay away.
And you didn't lie, Bree didn't need him, and neither did you. Your job was more than enough to maintain and take care of all of Bree's needs, you didn't lie when you said he wasn't needed, in nothing.
Finally you could sleep peacefully knowing that Lewis was what he wanted to be in your lives, a shadow.
On the sidewalk, Lewis saw you enter the store and through the window, he could see you and Bree together, it was clear how much the little girl was loved and well cared for. Lewis tried to imagine what the two years he had lost of his life, of the life of the daughter whose name he didn't even know, had been like. He thought of all the little moments he had missed.
There were few things Lewis truly regretted in his life, and letting you go and not being able to see Bree grow up was, without a doubt, the biggest regret he carried.
CARLOS SAINZ.
Sometimes you wondered how you had the courage to consider the idea of giving your twins up for adoption. You weren't lying when you said that the twins were the best part of your life. At five years old, the identical twins made your days in the French capital — the city you moved to after breaking up with Carlos — much happier and more joyful.
You didn't even care if the two of them were little carbon copies of the Carlos; Santiago, the older twin, seemed to have inherited much of Carlos' personality, he was a little reserved and even shy and loved board games, preferred books to any electronic game and loved football, while Martín had a lot of you in him, expansive and restless, your youngest son loves logic games like Rubik's cube and puzzles and was completely addicted to any kind of racing.
And they were little fanatical Atlético de Madrid fans, which you found sweet irony.
And it was this love for the Spanish club that convinced you to take them to Spain, so that the two could watch the Madrid Derby at the Cívitas Metropolitano, Atlético's official stadium in the city of Madrid. Thanks to your work as a digital influencer, you could give your twins the experience of watching the game directly from the stadium's box.
“C'est le meilleur cadeau d'anniversaire au monde! Merci maman!” (This is the best birthday present in the world! Thanks mommy!) Martín said, hugging you before running to the fence and seeing the field, where the players were warming up.
“Tu es la meilleure au monde, maman” (You are the best in the world, mommy) Santiago said before joining his brother at the railing. You sat down next to Andie.
“I didn’t think you were serious when you said you were going to bring them to Madrid just to watch the game,” her best friend said, also keeping her eyes on the twins.
“It’s their birthday and I had to come to Madrid anyway for work, so I thought I could combine business with pleasure... And I don’t plan on stopping my boys from having good experiences because of Carlos.”
In five years, you never received a text or call from Carlos to see how the twins were doing, or to see how you were handling things. Since their birth, it had been you, the twins, and Andie —she moved to Paris as well. You weren't lying, the first few months were horrible, you truly believed that you wouldn't be a good mother or be able to take care of two babies at the same time.
But Andie was an angel to you and your boys, helping you through the best and worst times. So much so that before long, Carlos was just an old and unwanted memory in your life.
When the game went into halftime, you and Andie took the boys to the snack bar in the box to get something to eat. You hadn't noticed that you were being watched since you entered the diner, Carlos had seen you, Andie and the boys entering. The pilot didn't expect to find you there, especially with two boys who looked like they were five years old.
Without thinking twice, he approached, keeping his eyes on the boys who wore Atlético shirts and their names on the back.
Santiago and Martín.
“Y/N?” he said fearfully, catching her attention. Carlos saw surprise flash in her eyes, but as quickly as it appeared, it was replaced by icy indifference. "How long"
“That’s right, it’s been a long time.” You placed your hands on the boys’ shoulders, aware that they were both shocked.
“C'est Carlos Sainz” Martín spoke softly to Santiago with wide eyes, not that Carlos was his favorite pilot, but the boy didn't expect you to know the pilot.
“These are Martín and Santiago, my sons.” You said, introducing the boys, watching the astonishment appear on Sainz’s face.
“What’s up guys? Enjoying the game?” he said, after a few seconds of shock. You knew what was going on in his head, Carlos was doing the math.
“We don’t talk to Real Madrid fans,” Santiago said with indifference and pulled Martín away from Carlos. You were so surprised that you laughed out loud, watching Carlos’ discomfort grow even more.
“I’m going after the brats and… And I think you guys need to talk,” Andie said, following the twins back to the to their seats.
You turned completely to Carlos, for a long time you missed him, especially when you wanted him to see the boys' first steps or when they spoke for the first time. You wanted him to see how special and good your children were, but he never cared.
It took a while, but eventually it stopped hurting.
Since then, all you felt was pity, because Martín and Santiago were absurdly adorable, loving and incredible children, anyone who could have them in their lives was lucky as hell.
“I didn't think I would go through with the pregnancy" he said and you sighed.
“And I wasn’t going to, but everything changed when I held them in my arms for the first time... I knew I could never leave them” you said and a smile appeared on your face.
“My parents would love to meet you... I would like to-” He starts to say but you interrupt him, already tired of that conversation.
“You wouldn’t like anything, Carlos, you have nothing to offer my boys but abandonment and cowardice,” you replied harshly.
He swallowed hard, Carlos looked embarrassed and regretful, but you didn't care, just like he didn't care about leaving you alone in that hospital.
“Y/N please understand, I wasn’t ready and-”
“I wasn’t either, Carlos,” you interrupted him, having no patience for his excuses. “I was simply thrown alone, in the middle of the hurricane, so if that’s your excuse, improve it.”
Your gaze towards him was hard, there really was nothing that could justify abandoning him.
“If it weren’t for Andie, I don’t even know where I would be right now! Maybe they’d both be in an orphanage or something, living on the streets.” Your voice was forceful, punishing, and accurate. “I almost, almost acted like a coward with them too, but I remembered that they had already lost their father, they couldn't be without their mother too.”
Carlos hunched over slightly, like you had just hit him in the face and damn, he wished you had.
“I will tell them about you, everything they want to know and if they want to look for you, I will not stop them, but until then, do not think that your presence near them will be welcome”
And you went back to where Andie and the boys were, you were surprised to notice that Martín hadn't taken his eyes off you for a moment. Your protective little boy...
You swallowed a painful sigh and stopped the tears from welling up in your eyes.
“Est-ce qu'il t'a fait du mal, maman?” (Did he hurt you, mommy?) He asked as soon as you sat down, you gave a calm smile and denied.
“It’s okay, honey, don’t worry.” you assured, sliding your fingers through his hair, Martín kept his eyes on you. “Are you enjoying the game?”
“Damn!” he said excitedly and you narrowed your eyes.
“What language is that, young man?” you asked, and he smiled as if he had been caught red-handed.
“It was an accident, mommy... Don't be mad, please,” he asked, making the same lost puppy face that Carlos had. My God, you thought it was impossible for them to look so much alike, but the twins were in fact carbon copies of Carlos.
“Go watch the game, I’m watching you” he nodded and ran to Santiago’s side, you sighed and saw Andie sit next to you. “I thought it would be worse”
“Me too... But you did well, to be honest, I thought you were going to throw the chair at him” Andie confessed and you laughed.
“Almost... I'll tell them the truth when we get back to Paris... And I'll let them decide whether they want to approach him or not.” you said, trying to keep your nervousness from setting in ahead of schedule. You would deal with the consequences when they came, that moment was just about the boys, would not spoil it with anxious thoughts and nervousness.
On the other side of the box, Carlos couldn't pay attention to the game, his mind was divided between the game and you and the twins. Carlos thought about how selfish he had been, he thought about how he would like to go back in time and change everything, to be able to live every little moment with you and the boys.
Carlos would like to be less stupid, but there was no way anymore.
CHARLES LECLERC.
After almost seven years, you were back in France, your parents were asking — or demanding, depending on your point of view — that you and Vivienne spend Mother's Day in the south of France. It was the first time since Vivienne was born that you had returned to Europe and although you loved the feeling of being home again, you couldn't help but be apprehensive, after all you didn't know if you were prepared for the possibility of meeting Charles. But you didn't let those thoughts ruin Vivienne's experience, the girl looked like she was going to explode at any moment with so much happiness.
The two of you took the train from Paris to Bordeaux, and Vivienne couldn't tear herself away from the window, enchanted by the romantic landscape of the French countryside, she commented on every little thing, unable to contain the excitement that made her shine.
“Let’s go to the dining car, amour, You need to eat.” You called her, trying to attract the girl’s attention, who seemed much more interested in the castle that disappeared through the train window.
“Will there be croissants, maman?” Vivienne finally turned away from the window.
“Of course, amour. Let’s go before they eat it all, shall we?” you led her out into the hallway, Vivienne chattered on and on, listing the things she had liked the most so far, that's why she still made a point of greeting the other passengers.
“It’s more beautiful here than Montreal, Mom...”
“Would you like to live here?”
She stopped in the hallway for a few seconds before turning to you, the indecision was clear on her little face “I don’t think so, I would miss home... And my friends, but we can come on vacation?”
“We can come to France whenever possible, amour.” you assured her.
The dining car was half full, but that wasn't what caught his attention, but rather coming across such familiar crystal-clear eyes. You knew the chances of meeting Charles in France were 50-50, but you didn't expect it to happen so quickly; suddenly you remembered why you spent so long away from your homeland. You saw Charles' smile disappear and his gaze fall on the girl in front of him, who, although she didn't look exactly like him, carried many of Leclerc's features in her own features.
“Let's sit at the table by the window, okay maman?” Vivienne asked, skipping over to the empty table, she didn’t even look to the side as she passed Charles.
"Of course, papillon, (butterfly) we can sit wherever you want.” You said, thankful that your voice came out steady, without showing the mess that was inside you.
You made Vivienne sit with her back to Charles, listening to the girl talk excitedly about the fields full of vineyards and the lavender plantations. Vivienne knew from the age of five because it was just you and her, you didn't want to wait too long to tell her the truth behind why just you were the one who went to the Father's Day presentations at her school. You remembered the pain tearing through your chest as you comforted your little girl who went to sleep crying for weeks on end, or all the times she asked why her father didn't like her. You wouldn't let anything bring that pain to Vivienne again, even if you had to throw Charles Leclerc out the train window.
“You’re not the waiter.” Vivienne’s inquisitive voice snapped you out of your reverie and you looked up to find Charles standing next to your table. Panic spread through you like wildfire. Vivienne knew that the man standing next to the table was her father, you didn't do much to hide it. “If you’re not the waiter, why did you come?”
“You have your mother’s sharp tongue,” he said, and you noticed the shadow of a smile on his face. “I’m Charles—”
“Leclerc, I know, I watch TV” she said, crossing her fingers on the table, you blinked a little dazed and took control of the situation, Vivienne didn't need to face a situation like that, not with you around to protect her, as you had been doing since her birth.
“What do you want, Charles?” you questioned seriously, the seven years away from him made you create a strong shield against the pilot's charm. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at you, there was no anger or contempt in his gaze, it had taken you the same seven years to understand that it had all been a huge failure in communication, however, that did not allow this to cause any more harm to Vivienne.
“I...” he stuttered, his gaze going from you to Vivienne without stopping “I came to greet you and...” he left the sentence hanging in the air, waiting for you or your daughter to reveal her name.
“You don’t need to know my name,” Vivienne said and your eyes widened.
You saw Charles' mouth open in pure astonishment, if you weren't expecting an answer like that, imagine him.
“What do you want, Charles? I don’t remember inviting you to join us,” you teased, enjoying his discomfort. You could forgive what had happened years ago, after all it wasn't anyone's fault he didn't want kids, but you fucking couldn't forget how it destroyed Vivienne for weeks. “Your girlfriend is waiting for you, and you are disturbing us.”
“Y/N I wanted to say that I'm sorry that all of this happened and...” his voice becomes a weak and distant thread, you just shake your head and raise your hand.
“There is nothing to be forgiven, Charles. That's in the past, there's no reason to bring it up again," you said sincerely, letting out a tired sigh. You wanted it to end soon, you wanted to get to Bordeaux soon. “Forget about it, leave everything in the past and go back to your girlfriend, we've been fine the last seven years without you, the next seven will be even easier, don't waste time worrying about us, we don't need you.”
He hadn't meant to be cruel or rude, but he wouldn't allow a sliver of it to reach Vivienne. Charles just nodded and walked away, you looked at Vivienne, who had tears in her eyes.
“Ma princesse,” you grabbed her hand, watching the little girl swallow her tears and give a weak smile.
“It’s okay, mom, I have you, it’s okay,” she said and went back to looking at the landscape through the window. You noticed that Charles had left. “I don’t need a father who didn’t want me”
You left the chair you were in and went to hug Vivienne, letting the girl feel how much she was loved, how much she didn't need Charles “I'm so proud of you, darling, so proud”
Outside, Charles was hyperventilating, he hadn't expected it to end like this, nor had he expected it to feel like a punch to his stomach. Suddenly, he questioned whether the choices he had made over the past seven years were good. But it didn't matter anymore, he had lost you and any chance of having... Having a family he never wanted.
It was already too late.
LANDO NORRIS.
Jordan looked at the cupcake with bright eyes, you wanted to cry when you saw the smile on your little boy's face. It was late afternoon and you wanted Jordan to be able to celebrate his first birthday on the beach, creating sand castles and playing with water.
“Happy birthday, my baby, I wish you to be blessed with happiness and love throughout your life.” you whispered, helping him blow out the candle. Jordan chuckled, grabbing the icing, smearing the blue sweetness all over his face. You let Jordan play in the sand and thought about everything that led them to that little beach in Spain.
After breaking up with Lando and receiving a court order that he didn't want to be related to you or the baby, you didn't know what to do with your life, I had a college degree, good internship experiences, but no one would hire a pregnant woman. With limited options and no support network, you've relied on the most unstable form of work: the internet. Your life wasn't the most glamorous or adventurous in the world, but people enjoyed watching you. You didn't care about fame or being known in places, you just wanted to make sure you could take care of the baby, make sure he always had a roof over his head and food on the table. No matter what shit you would do to make sure Jordan lacked for nothing.
Anything but crawling after Lando, begging for help or whatever the hell he could give.
You let Jordan play until he got tired, and only when the boy was almost asleep in the sand, you picked him up and decided to go back to the hotel. You balanced Jordan on your lap as you searched for your room key when you heard your name being called. You didn't expect to find Lando Norris in the lobby of the hotel you were staying at.
Not even by a miracle.
“What do you want here, Norris?” you asked, but you didn’t give him time to answer, you just continued on your way to the elevator. You heard him follow you and kept Jordan out of his sight.
“I want to talk to you,” he said tentatively. You stood in the opposite corner of the elevator, as far away from Lando as possible. “Is it his birthday?”
“And why does that matter to you, Norris? You’re nothing to him,” you said dryly, giving him a hard look.
He didn't even know what to answer, you couldn't understand what he was doing there, not after a year and seven months, not after that damn letter. What did he want there? Guarantee you wouldn't ask him for money? Ridiculous.
“If you want to know if I need your money, don’t worry, we don’t need anything from you”
Lando exhaled, you wouldn't give him a step, leaving him frustrated.
“I didn’t come for this... I know you’re... You’re dealing with everything well, I wanted...”
“What do you want, Norris? To see if I'm trying to scam someone to support my son? Being a gold digger?”
“Y/N I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, been...”
“What do you regret? Saying that I got pregnant so you could support me? That I wanted to pull the pregnancy scam on you? Or have you come to give me another court notice to deny your parentage with Jordan? If that's the case, don't worry, if it's up to me, your name will never be on Jordan's birth certificate.”
If shame had a portrait, it would be Lando's face.
“Please understand my side...”
“Your side, Norris? I was pregnant and you sent me away!!” you growled, trying not to wake Jordan in your arms. “I didn’t want money, I wanted support! I wanted you!”
You scoffed at the tears in his eyes, none of them made up for the times you cried alone, scared of the uncertain future you could have. If he thought you would be moved by his crying, he couldn't be more wrong. The elevator doors opened and you walked out, not caring about him following you.
“I’m sorry, I was scared!”
“I was too!” you lost your patience and heard Jordan’s whimpers. “Were you scared? Don’t be a hypocrite, Lando.”
“Let me... Let me apologize, let me take care of you two.”
“You can swallow your apologies, they’re worth nothing to me or Jordan, and as for your care…” you laughed “I won’t tell you what to do with it out of respect for my son.”
And with that, you slammed the door in his face. Hoping that Lando would go back to the same place he had come from.
MAX VERSTAPPEN.
Just as nothing hurt you more than Max's distrust, Annelise's birth healed you in immeasurable ways. The little girl became the little Sun in your world, illuminating corners you thought you would no longer visit after the breakup with Max.
When you left his house in Monaco, you spent a few days on standby, thinking about what to do, you had no one else to support you. You didn't know how, but before you knew it, you were standing on Sophie's doorstep in Belgium, you didn't expect to have the support of your ex-mother-in-law, but Sophie welcomed you with open arms, outraged by Max's attitude.
Sophie welcomed you as if you were her own daughter, helped you choose an apartment in Brussels — even though she wanted you to stay with her for as long as it took, she helped you in the first few months after Annelise was born.
Now, two years later, Annelise was spending so much time at her grandmother's house that Sophie had set up a room for her.
“Sophie, for God’s sake, don’t spoil Anne like that,” you scolded her, seeing the woman click her tongue and shrug, you knew your sermons would do no good, Sophie would continue buying gifts for Annelise.
“Nah, it’s nothing big and you know I’m not stopping any time soon,” she admitted, bouncing the little girl on her lap, Annelise was very entertained by the new teddy bear Sophie had brought. “How was the job interview? Did you get the job?”
You had applied for a job at the health center near your home, the hours were great, the pay was worth it, you just needed to find someone to look after Sophie.
“I was selected, but I need to find a good nanny to take care of Anne...”
“Y/N don’t be silly, you know I will take care of Anne with the greatest pleasure, I love taking care of her.”
“Sophie, I don’t want to give you any trouble...” you started to try to argue.
“Mom! I’m home... Y/N?” you saw Max standing in the middle of the room, staring at you in surprise, then looking at Annelise on Sophie’s lap.
“Max, you didn’t tell me you were coming, come in, I made your favorite cake, go get it from the kitchen, dear” Sophie said, she knew you weren’t ready to talk to Max yet, but the Dutchman had different plans.
You held your arms out to Annelise, who didn't think twice before jumping into your lap, you did your best to avoid Max's gaze.
“We’re going, Sophie... I’ll let you know when we get home,” you said in a whisper and crossed the room towards the exit, but Max grabbed your bicep, stopping you from leaving.
“We need to talk, Y/N... Just five minutes, please,” he said quietly, as soothingly as he could.
“We have nothing to talk about, Max.”
“Please, just five minutes,” he begged, giving Annelise a quick glance in his lap.
“Five minutes, no more.” You said, releasing your arm from his grip. “Sophie, can you take Anne please?”
“Of course, it’s no sacrifice for me, is it, mon bebé?”
Finally you and Max were alone, you were uncomfortable to the point that your skin felt itchy.
“I didn’t expect to see you here… I thought you would stay in Monaco”
“I had nothing to keep me in Monaco, I saw no reason to stay there, and Sophie welcomed me as if I were her daughter,” you said, putting your hands in your coat pockets. “Get to the point, Max, I have to go...”
He licked his lips nervously. “I wanted to talk about our daughter.”
“No, no, calm down, you don’t have a daughter, at least not with me, Annelise is my daughter and mine alone, your participation in her conception was purely accidental.” You said it without any emotion.
“I know I said stupid things that night, Y/N, but I want to make up for every single one of them, with you and with the girl” he said and you scoffed.
“Oh really? And what makes you think you have any right to her?”
“Y/N I’m her father” he said patiently, as he always was with you, until that night at least.
“Unless you request a DNA test, there is nothing to prove your paternity over Annelise,” you determined, taking a step towards him, “and don’t think I’m an idiot, Max, you always knew I was in Brussels with your mother, Sophie told you that the same day I arrived, because I highly doubt she didn't give you the biggest lecture of your life that night.”
He looked away, proving his point “and yet you never cared, you didn’t come to her birthday, or call when she had pneumonia, you didn’t even know her name until today, So please don't lie to me saying that you regret it or that you want to be a part of her life.”
You pressed your fingers to your temples, already feeling the pains of the inevitable migraine.
“Annelise will eventually find out about you, but until then, don't go near her, I won't allow you to be cruel to my daughter the way you were to me.” That was your final sentence before you went to get Annelise with Sophie. You didn't want to have to share oxygen with him any more than necessary. Max belonged to a past you didn't want to revisit.
He stood still in place, watching you leave with the girl, without giving you another look.
“There are stupid people, and then there’s you, Max,” Sophie said, approaching her son. “I find it absurd how you inherited Jos’s worst traits...”
He couldn't help but agree, Max was fucking dumb.
taglist: @spngi, @monacosprince, @camelliaflow3r, @simbaaas-stuff, @bsammy, @sabrinaselina55, @irenkaproszepana , @avni-sarai, @itsapurrfectstorm, @janeh22, @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs, @llvstrous099, @gotthemilk-69, @ladscarlett, @daemyratwst, @anewpersonthatexists, @loohs-world, @sarcastic-nerd
Some who requested to be tagged on the taglist unfortunately could not be located, if I forgot someone, please complain on ask, thank you, management.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
532 notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 3 months ago
Text
Second Time's The Charm IX
Alexia Putellas x Reader
Summary: Your co-workers meet your wife
Tumblr media
The new doctor is world renowned.
A titan in the industry of sports science and flawless in the realm of orthopaedic surgery.
Perhaps there was a bit of sexism in the way that all the nurses assumed you would be a man but each were pleasantly surprised when you walked through the door in your scrubs and were, in fact, a woman.
It was great in fact because male doctors always had massive egos attached and never treated nurses respectfully.
But female doctors always did.
Female doctors always appreciated the work they did.
You were one of those doctors.
If you weren't buried in paperwork or doing consultations and follow ups, you were down by the nurses station with a to-go coffee and a box of doughnuts from the café to share out.
"He took me to Naples," One of the nurses said," We took a tour around Pompeii and ate at this amazing pizza place."
You hummed, writing down something in one of your patient's charts. "Was it nice? I've been meaning to take my wife but she's so busy all the time. I don't want her time wasted if it isn't nice."
"So nice," The nurse insisted," A lot of walking around though so you're sweating a lot but apart from that, it's amazing."
"I'll put it on my list then."
"My boyfriend took me to a football match. He's a Barcelona fan so we went to see the women in a friendly last week."
"My wife was there too," You said absentmindedly," I heard it was a good match."
"Eight-nil to Barcelona," The nurse agreed," They were amazing."
You know that because Alexia came home very happy with her own performance. Two goals. Three assists.
You rewarded her handsomely.
"The women's team are very good," You replied, signing something off.
"Oh, yeah, you go to a lot of matches, right? Are you a fan?"
"My wife's a bigger Barcelona fan than me," You replied.
That was an understatement but nobody really needs to know about how passionate Alexia is about football.
"She always gets me tickets."
"That's so sweet," Another nurse said," It's nice that you care so much about her interests."
"Yeah, I love seeing Ale happy," You said," If that means I have to sit through ninety plus minutes of football then I'm glad to to do it."
The nurses learnt pretty quickly after that, just how much you adored your wife.
You brought her up with conversations that were only tangentially related to her, dropping little facts to do with her at seemingly random intervals.
Your staff now knew that you and your Ale had met at school, inseparable since that first meeting. They knew you got kicked out of your parent's house at eighteen after you married her. They knew that you were currently building a house and had taken her away on her dream holiday over the Christmas period.
You'd never shown a picture of her though and if there was one things nurses loved doing with no one around, it was gossip.
"She must look like a model or something," One of them said," Pretty people marry pretty people and Doctor Putellas is very pretty."
"I think she must be a real sweetheart," Another said," Someone really sweet and happy. I'd be happy if I was married and spoiled by Doctor Putellas. It must be a dream."
"What do you think she works as?"
" A doctor's salary like Doctor Putellas' is enough to support a family on. Her wife probably doesn't need to work."
"I heard they were thinking about adopting. Her wife might want to stay home with the baby."
"Doctor Putellas deserves a housewife to spoil. I bet her wife feels so loved all the time."
"I wish my boyfriend would treat me like how Doctor Putellas treats her wife."
A throat is cleared behind the assembled nurses and they turn around, instantly putting on their responsible faces.
Alexia Putellas stood before them, nervously threading her fingers together together as she stood in front of them.
"Erm...hello."
"Hello. Do you have an appointment? A follow up?"
Since her ACL tear, Alexia wasn't an abnormal presence at the hospital, constantly coming back for follow ups and check ins.
She'd never looked this nervous though, this strung out and anxious.
"Er...no. I'm...I'm here to see Y/n?"
The nurses all nodded.
That made sense. Alexia Putellas and Doctor Putellas.
Everyone had assumed the pair of you were related. You didn't look similar so you were probably cousins or something else more loosely related.
"We'll call her down for you."
Alexia nodded, face shifting from nervous to more stern and stoic, the face that the nurses were more used to seeing on her. She remained silent as they went back to talking, discussing weekend plans and holiday ideas with family.
The squeak of your shoes on the linoleum floor caused all conversations to grind to a half again and you turned the corner with the group of interns that you'd been talking to since one of your surgeries earlier, answering questions in such an in depth way that there was no question of why you were world class in your field.
"Doctor Putellas, your-"
"Amor!" Alexia cried out, stern and stoicism slipping from her visage as something skin to puppy love appeared to replace it," Brilliant news!"
Your own smile split your features as you took two short steps toward her until you were face to face.
Instantly, Alexia's hands went to your hips.
"What is it, Ale?"
"We've got a court date! For Maya! To bring her home!"
Somehow, you smile only widened and you threw your arms around Alexia to bring her ever closer.
"Are you serious? A court date? An actual court date?"
"The lawyers called!" Alexia continued, somehow rushing through her words but still articulating them perfectly," I was in a meeting but I was looking at my phone because it was flashing. I knew I shouldn't have picked up but it felt important so I did. And they told me! Next week! The judge will talk to us and officially approve the papers!"
You were totally professional with your nursing staff. You would banter with them and joke around but you were still so professional. You didn't overshare. You didn't belittle them. You didn't say anything too personal.
Which was why it was so strange to see you pull Alexia into a kiss right in front of them, smashing your lips together as Alexia practically vibrated in excitement.
"We're bringing our baby home," You said against her lips.
"We are, amor. We are."
Movement out of the corner of your eye brought you out of your daze though, dropping your arms until you could take one of Alexia's hands in your own as you turned to face the shocked faces of your group of interns and your nurses.
You felt a little bit awkward now as you cleared your throat.
"This is my wife," You said meekly," Ale."
Not the Barcelona captain. Not the Spain captain. Not Alexia Putellas.
Your wife.
Ale.
907 notes · View notes
marvel-ouss · 4 months ago
Text
You're Not Sorry
Tumblr media
Dad!Charles Leclerc x Mom!Reader
pov: Charles goes to support his cousin in Naples and sees someone he hasn't seen in a long time along with a younger version of himself.
warning: miscommunication, pregnancy, the italics are Charles pov, some swear words, mentions of cheating, mentions of eating
type: angst with happy ending
note: this picture did something to me, I swear I saw Charles talking to his younger self! I almost cried...
It's Jules' 6th birthday today and I promised him that we'd go to the Karting race that is gonna happen in the Naples circuit.
We arrived around 11am so he could greet everyone.
"Hello birthday boy, how are you doing?" Martin asked Jules, he was the first person I met when I first came to Naples. When Martin noticed I was pregnant and I told him it was a boy he said that the first thing he'd do when the child was big enough was take him karting on the circuit he worked. 5 years later Martin kept his promise and now Jules karts regularly.
"I'm good, uncle Matt. I'm really exited to watch the race." Jules said jumping from excitement.
"One day we'll take you to a f1 race, now go join your friends, I need to talk with your mommy" Jules gets out happy with the silent promise. "Have you seen him?"
"Good morning to you too Martin, I'm great and you?"
"Sorry, I'm good. Now answer me" I could tell he was nervous I just didn't know the reason.
"Seen who? Martin are you sure you are okay?"
"Charles." I haven't heard that name in so long. "Giuseppe told us earlier that a f1 drivers was gonna be here I didn't really care but then I remembered Jules so I asked if anyone knew who it was and they told me we had a section booked for the Leclerc family"
"So you are telling me that you were told Charles was gonna be here and told my child to go outside where he his most likely to be seen?" I asked already leaving the stall we were at.
Arriving outside I couldn't find Jules. Martin and I looked at each other and we started looking for Jules.
"Jules where are you?" I screamed hoping for him to hear me “Jules!” I kept screaming, I was scared, what if someone took him? Jules’ the only thing I have left.
"That's her, that's my mommy!" I hear Jules' voice and see him along with the only person I hopped not to see today.
I was in Naples to support my cousin during the karting Championship. When I arrived I greeted as many people as I could and took as much pictures and gave as many autographs as possible. I was walking around when I saw a little boy that reminded me of myself during my early karting days. I looked around to see if there was any adult, maybe a mother or a father, looking for the child, but didn’t see any.
“Hello young man, what are you doing here alone?” I ask the little boy. As I approached I could tell he was crying.
“Can you help me find my mother? I don’t want to be alone forever. My mum can’t be alone, she’ll miss me.” He said with a broken voice.
“Of course, come on let’s look around to see if we can find her. My name is Charles, do you want to tell me your name?” I held his hand and walked around.
“My name is Jules Leclerc but my mommy calls me gioia mia” I couldn’t say a word. Leclerc? How is it possible? A Leclerc that we don’t know about? Maybe it’s just a coincidence, there must be other Leclerc’s out there.
“Jules, where are you? Jules!” I heard a woman’s voice screaming, we went in the direction of the voice.
A woman came into view, I knew her from somewhere. When she turned around I could tell it was y/n. We started dating 8 years ago. But eventually broke up 3 years after. I had just started my F1 career and I'll admit that I started ignoring her and focusing more in my future. So I wasn't surprised when one day I woke up and she wasn't there.
I tried contacting her but it was already too late, I had fucked it up really bad.
“That’s her, that’s my mommy!” Jules said letting go of my hand and running in her direction.
I saw Jules running in my direction and opened my arms. “Gioia mia, don’t ever do that to mommy again, I thought I lost you forever baby”
“I’m sorry mommy, I was with the older boys but they had to go, I looked for you in the stall but you weren’t there anymore.”
“I’m so sorry baby, I was already looking for you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay mommy. Look I made a new friend. His name is Charles.” Jules turned do Charles who was a bit far from us “And Charles, meet my mommy.”
I couldn’t face Charles. I knew we had to talk but I wasn’t ready for it all. At this point Jules must have introduced himself and I know my child well enough so I bet he said his name was Jules Leclerc, he’s always super proud to say his first and last name. I think Jules is too young to connect the dots, he knows my last name is not Leclerc.
I remember the fist time we watched f1 together he noticed and told me that there was Ferrari driver had the same last name as him. Little does he know.
He probably didn’t realise that he was in the presence of THE Charles Leclerc who also happened to be his father.
“Hi Charles, thanks for helping him find me.” A said dryly without making eye contact.
“Hello y/n, haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?” Really? How have I been? He's joking right? First ignores my existence, now is talking to me like nothing has ever happened?
“I’m going. How is f1 being to you?” No, you don't care y/n! What are you doing?
Charles widened his eyes. “It’s going, Ferrari’s not at it’s best but we’ll get there”
“Mommy? He’s Charles Leclerc?” Jules asked confused.
“Yes gioia mia, he’s the f1 driver you talked about the other day”
“Cha, we share the same last name!” He said very enthusiastic.
“Oui mon petit, it seems so” I lift my head to look at Charles but he’s already looking me dead in the soul. I’m fucked.
“Let’s go Jules, let’s look for your uncle Martin he’s very worried as well. Say bye to Charles.”
“Bye Cha.” Jules goes in his direction to give him a hug. Charles gets down so he can hug Jules properly and whispers something in his ear.
“Goodbye Charles.” I say already turning around.
“At least this time she said a proper goodbye." Hypocrite! I can't believe my ears, that bastard... Never mind y/n, he's not worth a scene in front of Jules.
-
The day went by really fast and I didn’t see any of the Leclerc’s throughout the day. Jules had a lot of fun and really enjoyed the day with the other boys. Some of them even took him for a lap around the circuit.
It was 7:30pm when we decided it was time to go.
“Mom do you think I’ll meet other f1 drivers when we go watch one of the races?”
“I don’t know baby, probably. I know some of them, if we find them I’ll introduce them to you, deal?”
“Deal” he said closing the subject and starting to ramble about his day.
I was putting Jules in his car chair when I heard someone calling my name do I closed the door and turned around.
“Y/n, I was looking for you.” Charles was in front of me breathless so I assume he ran on his way here. “We need to talk. I didn’t wanna do it earlier because Jules was there and I didn’t wanna make a scene. But you can’t deny that he’s my child, he looks just like me.” He said all in one breath.
“I won’t deny it, I knew it when I left. Well, that was one of the reasons I left. I wasn't gonna bring I child into your life for you to ignore the both of us, so I figured that leaving was more fitting.” Charles started laughing.
“ Are you kidding me y/n? I would have died for the two of you if you had tol-“ “Really Charles? Are you kidding me? You treated me like shit the last months we were together! You wouldn't even acknowledge my existence!
“Y/n, you could have told me, we would find a way! Instead you left me in the middle of the night!”
“Don't say you were alone when you had another girl!” “I had what? Well that’s news! I didn’t know that.” Charles interrupted me shocked.
“You weren’t?” “No I wasn’t!”
“Charles you were never home, I didn’t know were you were, I needed you when I discovered!”
“I was focused in my job! I didn't even had time for you how was I supposed to be with another woman?”
“You put your job in front of everything else. I waited for you every single night! The night I discovered I was pregnant I had everything planned to tell you, but when you arrived home you just brushed me off! I needed you for fuck sake” I started crying and he hugged me.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby" He kept repeating those words like a mantra.
I heard the car door and soon after felt Jules’ arms wrapped around my leg. “Mommy are you okay?”
“Yes baby, everything’s alright. Sorry for keeping you waiting.” I held Jules and put him back in the car and turned to Charles. “Give me your phone please” he said, so I gave him my phone. He dialed his current phone number and gave me back my phone. “Send me a massage se we can talk better and figure things out okay?”
“Yeah, ciao Cha.” I said going to the drivers seat and making my way home.
-
I put Jules to bed then headed to the kitchen to get my phone and called Charles.
“Hello?” I said when noticed he had answered the phone.
“Y/n? Are you okay?" No, I'm not. For 5 years I thought he stopped caring because he was with someone else. At this point I have no idea what's worse. being cheated on or being left behind because of work
“Hi Cha. I don’t know. At the moment I have a lot on my mind and I don’t know how to process everything.” I said still a little overwhelmed.
“How's Jules?”
“Just put him to bed, he was worried, he never saw me crying.”
“I wanted him to meet my family. You should be there too, my mom and brothers miss you.”
“How? I left you and they miss me?” I said on the verge of tears.
“They know it was my fault. I said you left because I got too occupied with work to pay attention to you and you were done with it. My mom almost killed me that day.”
“Poor Pascale you always gave them the worse time.” Now I was crying.
“I've said it a hundred times and I'll say one thousand more times, I'm so sorry mon amour. I didn't know how to deal with everythin. I'm so so sorry”
“Do you think Pascale still likes me?”
“Of course she does she never stopped loving you, but she likes you ever more now that you gave her her so desired first grandchild” The line went silent after what he said. He accepted Jules so easily. "Why Jules? And why did you keep the Leclerc?"
"His name is Jules Pierre Hervé Leclerc. I gave him the names of important people to you. I didn't know if you were gonna meet him someday so I wanted do keep a part of you in him. It was a shock when I figured out but it was a result of our love. You are the love of my life. Even after all this years I still feel that love for you. I couldn't think of another name that would suit him as good as that one."
After that Charles hung up the phone. I knew he had a lot on his mind so I didn't insist on calling him. We both fucked up in this situation, I shouldn't have left, and he should have known that his profissional self stays in the headquarter.
When he's ready to talk he'll call me. The next morning I woke up and made breakfast for me and Jules. I was on my way to wake up Jules when my phone started ringing.
"Hello?"
"Y/n, what's your address?"
"Hi Charles, good morning for you too" what's with the going straight to the point and not even asking how the person's doing? First Martin, now Charles, who's next? Jules?
"Sorry, got too exited. I bought gifts for Jules. Where can I meet you?"
"You can come to my house I'll send you the address. Did you have breakfast?"
"No, not yet"
"Good you'll have it with us and we'll tell Jules" I said hanging up the phone and continuing with Jules' routine.
-
A few minutes later Charles was knocking on my door. Jules was in the living room playing with his toy cars.
"Good morning mon amour." Charles said kissing my cheek and giving me a hug.
"Good morning Cha, you can come in" I said giving him space to come inside.
"Bonjour mon petit. What're you doing?" Charles asked Jules while sitting on the couch.
"Chaaa" Jules screamed getting up and hugging Charles.
"I'm gonna set the table. I'll call you when everything's ready" I said going to the kitchen.
They stayed in the living room until I called for the two of them.
We starting eating our breakfast.
"Jules we have something to tell you." I said when I finished my breakfast
Jules moved all his attention to me.
"You know, when I was younger I met your dad. And I think it's time for you to meet him as well."
Jules look at me and Charles, back and forth.
"Mommy, is Cha my dad? Is that what you were trying to tell me?" Jules said with his eyebrows frowned, due do confusion.
Me and Charles stayed silent for a little bit and I just nodded for Jules to know that was exactly what I was trying to tell him. Both of us fearing his reaction. We where still in silence when Jules got up from his chair and made is way towards Charles.
"I forgive you for not being here. I love you daddy. Now we can be a family." He said hugging Charles.
Jules was such an intelligent child. I didn't want to tell him the whole thing so we just said that Cha was busy but what mattered was his presence now.
We started doing, as Jules called them, "Fam Time" once a week. Charles would sleep the night to spend more time with Jules, we would go to races. Jules met all the drivers as he wished. We were happy once again.
-
I'M BACK GUYS! Probably not for long hihi
I hope you like this new story. Feedback is always welcome.
xx
550 notes · View notes
eowynstwin · 1 year ago
Text
imprimatura / muses
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish shows up one day to model for your studio class. He's flirtatious, too attractive for his own good, and more interested in you than you'd ever expect him to be. And his boyfriend Ghost is interested too. - ao3
Tumblr media
He arrives early as you’re setting up for your students, in jeans and a tight t-shirt, and the first thing that crosses your mind when you lay eyes on him is Jesus, he’s fit. 
You are no stranger to bodies. Hundreds of them have cycled through your studio, all shapes and sizes and colors; you think you may know every dip, every roll, every hard angle and soft curve that a human body is capable of holding. The mystique of defined muscle has long lost its novelty. Bodies are bodies, and each holds the same value as the next when subject to brush and canvas. It never matters, you teach your students, what a body looks like in the modeling chair. It only matters if they can reproduce it accurately.
Even so, when a body like this walks in, you really can’t help but take notice.
Decadent muscle, fed and worked well, round and full with hydration. It’s impossible to miss, even through his clothes; each group delineated clearly, gracefully, as if sculpted rather than built, and alive with soft, subcutaneous movement. It’s indulgent to look at, the comfortable breadth of his shoulders and chest down to that slight taper of his waist and bulk of his thick thighs. It’s a physique no hard-bodied gym rat could hope to achieve merely with extra time at the racks—a physique that is easily, harmoniously attractive in its makeup of muscle and healthy fat.
The man is also mohawked and suntanned, and his mouth rests at an angle that suggests he often smiles—as if he knows that Michelangelo would have swooned at the sight of him. He comes into your classroom, saunters over to you, and stops precisely two paces away from you.
“Sergeant John MacTavish,” he says, offering his hand. “I understand you’re the instructor?”
He has gorgeous, vivid blue eyes (pthalo and cremnitz, with a touch of hamsa). You blink several times. Fit is still rattling around your skull, and begins knocking against sergeant at the same rolling frequency as his warm Scottish brogue. You realize his hand is still outstretched and quickly take it to shake.
“Yes!” you say. His palm is tough, callused, and not soft in the slightest, but very warm. “Nice to meet you, sergeant.”
He gives a grimace. “John’s fine. Or Soap.”
“Soap?”
“Nickname, y’know.”
Neither of you have released from the handshake. Soap’s grip is firm, the kind of firm that suggests he can squeeze much, much tighter if he needs to. And if the grip isn’t any indication, the broad forearms, dusted soft with dark brown hair, certainly are.
Black lines, a sword and helmet framed in laurels, catch your notice. The ink has the soft edges of having lain in the skin for a few years. You turn his arm to see it more fully. “Oh. Nice tattoo.”
He looks at the ink as if it is entirely new to him, and then gives an easy grin. “Thanks. I’ve got a few more too. Hope they aren’t hard to draw.”
When you loosen your grip on his hand, he releases you immediately. You still feel the squeeze in your bones even as you drop your hand to your side.
“So, then, Soap,” you say, “have you ever modeled before?”
He shakes his head, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his low-slung jeans. It tugs the waistband just a bit, revealing a sliver of warm, tan skin (raw sienna, flesh ochre, naples yellow). “Should have, honestly, with how much it pays.”
“It gets very boring, very fast,” you say. “What do you plan to wear for the breaks?”
“Was I supposed to bring that m’self?”
You are unable to suppress a laugh. “Yes, unfortunately.”
“Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and going a little sheepish—as if expecting a reprimand. You suppose it’s a valid expectation to have, in his world. You aren’t terribly familiar with the military, but you do know it’s one hell of a stickler for rules.
You also can’t help but admire the appealing pull and stretch of his bicep and deltoid, the flex of his pectoral as he lowers his arm. 
“Why don’t you wait here, and I’ll go see if I can find something for you?” you suggest kindly, letting him off the hook.
“Sorry,” he says, pretty blue eyes filled with genuine apology. “I’ll remember nex’ time. Thanks.”
The expression is so hangdog that you almost want to pat his head and noise at him reassuringly, like an actual dog. You press your lips together to hide a smile, and leave the studio.
When you get back from the models’ changing room, you find Soap with one hip against the counter where you’d been organizing your supplies, one knee loose and shoulders set at a relaxed angle. You want to laugh at his easy contrapposto. He’s going to be an excellent model. You can feel it. 
It looks as if he’s moving around the sticks of vine charcoal with one outstretched finger; he pulls his hand guiltily away when you reenter the studio, crossing his arms over his chest as if to hide the evidence of his snooping. It makes his pectorals bunch and round out, gathers the thickness of his biceps up into chiseled, full definition.
You lift one brow at him as you walk over.
“Never could keep my hands to m’self,” he admits, still sheepish.
“It’s alright,” you allow, smiling back. “Do you draw?”
“Used to,” he says. He looks back at the charcoal. “No time, now.”
“Are you deployed often?” you ask, taking the opportunity to look at his face. 
Beauty is cheap in art, but you notice it all the same—appreciate the strong brows, the hard angle of his jaw, the dark stubble of a beard you suspect he can’t keep shaved down, and the long scar that cuts through it across his chin. The light brown of his complexion is speckled with sun exposure, and there are the faintest of creases at the corners of his eyes, which you expect will deepen into genuine, gorgeous crow’s feet as he ages.
He’s not all rugged, though. There is a soft, thick curl to his lashes, which are as dark as strong coffee or expensive chocolate, and an equal decadence to the pink, plush little swell of his bottom lip—which, in the very middle, has the smallest of divots, as if he regularly spends time biting it. 
They’re traits that are far too sweet to belong on an otherwise masculine face, and their effect is such that they turn an objectively average set of features into a shockingly attractive portrait—that suddenly has something fluttering, just a bit, in the roof of your stomach.
He looks at you, and catches your survey. You can see him realize you’d been watching, the knowledge of it blooming in ocean blue eyes like ink dropped onto linen.
“More often than no’,” he answers, showing teeth in a crooked, interested grin. And now he’s looking at you—attention flitting across your face, dropping down your body and jumping back up to meet your gaze. The creases deepen at the corners of his eyes.
The fluttering intensifies. The sudden role reversal has you feeling at once flustered and unmoored. You are never the subject of any perusal—always comfortably the observer.
“Well—” you try, and you’re embarrassed at the low tone of your voice. You clear your throat. “Well, let’s make use of the time we have you, then.”
His smile remains, cocksure and easy. “Let’s.” 
He knows the effect he’s had.
“Anyway,” you say, blinking several times and proffering the sheet you’d retrieved, “none of the other models are your size, so I’m afraid this will have to do.”
He takes it in his hands, which are sun-dark and striking against the clean white linen. “So it’s a toga, then?” he asks.
“Whatever you like. Let’s go over the basics, and then you can undress.”
“Oh, already, aye? Y’move fast, hen,” he drawls, still grinning. “I like it.”
Heat rushes to your face, but you don’t feel embarrassed enough not to laugh. You busy yourself with tapping your charcoal sticks back in place, putting them back in an even row ascending in order of length, and saving yourself from having to look him in the eye. “Ha! We don’t do a lot of foreplay in this studio, I’m afraid.”
“No?” Soap hums, and he steps closer. He’s very warm, enough that you can feel it even with the space between you. You do have to look at him then. His eyes are half-lidded, lashes casting pretty shadows on his cheekbones as he gazes down at you. “That’s a shame. I’m right partial to it.”
Your brows lift, and you will your pulse to remain steady even as you inhale, catching a thread of—cologne? Aftershave? Just plain deodorant?—coming off of him. The scent caresses you, almost beckoning you to lean forward. You swear you can see the thrum of his heartbeat, there in the soft hollows by his Adam’s apple.
You blink. He is your model. “Well—I’ll try to set you up as best I can, anyway. Follow me, please.”
And you turn your back on him, because this is your workplace, and you are at work, and if you don’t get on with things you might do something stupid like actually flirt back.
Tumblr media
Soap hadn’t been sure what to expect when he arrived at the art studio. He’s never been to one before, much less one housed in a university—which he has also never been to—and hell, he only ever took one art class in high school.
If pressed, he’d have imagined old brick walls covered in diagram posters, shelves of supplies in all colors, the smell of paint hanging permanently in the air. What he finds instead is modern, clean, and impersonal. Stage lights hang from fixtures in the ceiling, pointing at a platform in the back center of the room. A tight line of easels, all folded up, stand pressed into a far corner, next to a tower of stacked chairs, and waist-high cabinets line half the room against the bare, painted cinder block wall. The linoleum floor looks new.
None of this, however,  has any opportunity to disappoint him. His final unmet expectation, standing across the room and organizing a tray of art supplies, is a very welcome surprise.
You’re bonnie. Like, every point on his wishlist bonnie. Christ, he must’ve done something really good lately, because he can’t imagine just lucking into this. There’s not a hard angle to you, all sweet and soft, but when you meet his gaze during introductions there’s a sharpness to you that skewers him through the chest. You are much smarter than him, he can tell immediately. 
He’s always had a thing for smart women. Soft ones, too.  And if that weren’t enough, you let him flirt shamelessly with you, while checking him out the whole time.
Steaming Jesus.
You direct him to get onto the platform and sit down, still clothed, in an armchair draped in another pristine white sheet. The stage lights are bright overhead, and they highlight free-floating wisps of your hair in gold. 
“You want to ensure that you don’t rest your weight on only one or two points,” you explain. You have a nice voice. Steady, confident—this is your territory, your studio, and in it you are clearly the master. “The main danger is that your arms or legs might fall asleep, and you won’t realize it until you get up, in which case you’ll fall. We can’t touch you, so we can’t save you from that.”
“Y’canna touch me?” Soap repeats.
“Not without your explicit consent,” you say.
He smiles at you, the kind of smile he saves for bright nights at the pub over platoons of shot glasses. “I explicitly consent to you touching me.”
The corners of your mouth tug upward, just a bit, and you look away, clearly bashful. Something in Soap’s chest starts beating a drum. He knows already he’ll ask you to drinks after the class ends tonight.
“I doubt I’d be able to do much,” you say, “you’re a bit more substantial than the usual models.” Your eyes flick down his torso and back up.
“Guess I’ll have to follow your advice, then,” he says.
“You should,” you say, and he looks at your thigh shamelessly as you pat it—even beneath your jeans, he can see the ripple of the impact. “One of the worst-case scenarios is nerve damage.”
“So you have done this before!”
He can’t help it—Soap’s imagination runs wild. Titanic, draw-me-like-one-of-your-French-girls wild. It’s not exactly polite to imagine a teacher naked while she’s in the middle of giving him directions (and Jesus, what a concept, he might be half-mast already), but Soap has always found that people like it when he’s a little rude.
You drum your fingers. “I have.”
He finally hears the nerve damage part of your instruction. “How, uh—how bad can it get?”
The drumming stops. “For me? It just starts to twinge a bit if I sit on this side very long. So don’t rest your weight all on one hip, yeah?”
Concern assuaged that he had not ignored your genuine pain in order to objectify you, Soap grins. “Yeah.”
“Good,” you say. “Also—even if it doesn’t hurt, Soap, you can stop at any time, okay?”
That has him blinking. “Kinda defeats the purpose, doesnae?”
You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter. This is your first time modeling. You don’t know how you’ll feel, sitting here with your clothes off and everyone looking at you. If you need to stop, I want you to stop. I’ll make sure you’re paid anyway, so don’t worry about that.”
You are…so serious about this. The line of your brows is furrowed, imploring, like a little discomfort on his part is a violation of the highest order.
“Sure,” he says, a little dumbstruck and mostly lying. He’d be a rubbish soldier if he tapped out of a little thing like sitting down, but it’s nice that you care.
You purse your lips, nod, and then move onto the task at hand, stepping back and then down off the platform. When you begin to survey him—gaze flitting up and down his body, more pensive than appreciative—he has to resist the urge to flex.
Instead he watches you as you look at him. He especially likes, he decides, the slope of your nose and the smart, serious press of your mouth. You could get him all turned around, he thinks, if you gave it half a try.
Your tits are also great, but that’s by the by.
“Try resting your elbow up a little higher, and twist at the hips a bit,” you instruct, and Soap obeys. “Hm. How would you feel about crossing your ankles?”
You continue like this—nudging him in directions he doesn’t think make all that much of a difference, standing in different positions around the room to check the angles. He half-wishes he could step out of his body and join you, curious as he is about what you’re seeing, what your students will see. He’s not sure he has any clear expectations for how the class will go, but if you’re any indication, it’ll be more fun than he expects.
“Not sure if I’ll remember how to get back into this,” he says, partly to be helpful and partly to get you to talk to him again.
“I’ll help you, don’t worry,” you say. “Okay, I think that’s a good one, you can move now—I’m going to start setting up, the students should be here any minute.”
He stands, and you turn away to collect your supplies, so Soap figures this means it’s time for him to strip. He pulls off his shirt and drapes it over the chair’s arm, unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to his knees.
“Soap!”
He freezes. Then he looks at you. You’re blushing again, deep and saturated, mouth parted in surprise and hand pressed to your chest. He does not miss the quick flick of your gaze down his body; he’s probably violated some rule or another of the studio, but he can’t help but grin.
You’re adorable.
“Gotta happen eventually, right?” he says.
You cover your face with your palm. “I was going to leave the room first!”
“First time someone’s wanted to run away when I’m takin’ my clothes off, I won’t lie—”
“You just come get me when you’re done!” you say hastily as you beeline for the door. “I’ll be right outside!”
Soap chuckles a little when you’re gone, the door slamming mortified behind you, and folds his clothes up behind the armchair he’ll be sitting in. You’re so cute. He can’t wait to sit naked for you for the next three hours.
And he’s definitely asking you out for drinks.
Tumblr media
next
1K notes · View notes
cupidbedsy · 6 months ago
Text
𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 | 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ♔
Tumblr media
➪ summary: afer many milestones of her brothers, she finally comes home for the first hughesbowl
➪ warnings: none (surprises?)
➪ word count: 2.6k
➪ file type: fic + one insta post
➪ sunny's notes: i'm pretty sure this was the first hughes bros fic i wrote so i definitely had to go back and rewrite a bunch of it. for a little context you're a famous youtube vlogger :) also i would definitely reread this one because a lot has changed and i wrote like a thousand more words for this one
© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here
hughes brothers masterlist || nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation
Tumblr media
⟹ Sunday, December 3, 2023 @ 3:30 in the morning - Naples, Italy
“Hello everyone, my name is y/n, and welcome to my channel if you are new here and welcome back if you’re not! It is currently,” She pauses to take a brief look at her watch, “3:30 in the morning on Sunday, December 3. I am very much still in Italy, but not for long.”
The video cuts and now her camera is sitting on her desk, the windows are opened and the lights are adjusted to be a little bit brighter. She smiles brightly at the camera before she starts talking again, “So you’re probably seeing this mid-December ish whcih means you kind of already know what is going on, but. I am officially flying and moving back home.
“Italy has been such a great experience and I’ve had so much fun here, I’ve learned a ton of new things and I am so grateful for everyone I’ve met. If you know, I’ve been here for almost three years now and I think I’m starting to realize how homesick I am. It’s super nice and amazing here but if I’m honest, I kind of miss ‘the land of the free’. That was a joke, the land of the free part, trust.”
She laughs and continues, “Anyway, the main reason I have decided to come home now is because of my brothers. If you also don’t know, I have three younger brothers, Quinn, Jack, and Luke who are professional hockey players. Quinn plays for the Vancouver Canucks and the other two play for the New Jersey Devils. I honestly have missed so much of their careers, Luke especially and I just really want to be there for the first ever ‘Hughesbowl’ I think they’re calling it.” 
She wipes her eyes, trying not to let the tears fall. She looks around at her room and then back at the camera, “So, I’m flying into New York this morning, my flight leaves at 7 so I should probably get going in a little bit. But yeah, I’ll see you guys when I touch down in New York!”
Videos play of y/n getting ready for the airport, all of her luggage behind her. She navigates her way through the airport, stopping to get some food at the Starbucks and a small drink before sitting and reading her book. After the montage, she is now in a car looking a little tired but her smile is still plastered on her face. 
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
⟹ Sunday, December 3, 2023 @ 10:21 in the morning - New York City, New York
“So as you can see, I am now in New York!” The camera pans to a girl in the driver's seat, “This is my American homie right here. Oh, it’s so weird being back, everyone still can’t walk and drive to save their lives.
“Anyway, Julia and I are heading to drop my stuff off at her place and then we’re going to go get some brunch, I think? We’ll, or I guess, I will go sightseeing. I leave for Vancouver tomorrow night so I can rest up before the shorter flight. It’s honestly, kind of fun being back home, everything is kind of like how I remembered. I might also break into Jack and Luke’s apartment to steal some Devils merch so I can wear it to the game, but yeah.”
“Do the boys know you’re going?” Julia asks, pulling into the parking lot of her apartment complex.
Y/n shakes her head, “Nobody knows except for you and Tiffany, my friend who lives in Vancouver. So that will be an additional bonus to the game. I’ve set up some things with the arena and I guess, actually, some of the team know so Brock, Petey. I think Jesper and Nico know too, we were talking a little bit earlier together when I got here. Alright, I will see you guys sometime soon!”
Another quick montage plays, Julia and y/n are out and about, going from store to store while y/n gapes at all the things she remembered about visiting Jack before she left. At one point, there was a video of her successfully sneaking into her brother's apartment and stealing one of their beanies they kept on the countertop. 
The next video was of her collapsing onto a bed, “We’re home! It is now almost 10 o'clock here and I am going to get some much-needed rest. Tomorrow I think we’re going to meet up with a few more of our friends which I don’t think I’m going to vlog. Which means, I will see you all when I am headed to the airport!”
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
⟹ Monday, December 4, 2023 @ 7:00 in the evening - John F Kennedy Airport
“It was already 5 and I am here at the airport,” Y/n pans the camera around before focusing it back on herself, “I am actually starting to get so nervous about this. I mean in a little over 24 hours I get to see my little brothers for the first time in almost 3 years. Wow, that is crazy to say. I ended up going out to an early dinner with some of my friends so I am definitely full for this plane ride. I am going to be landing in Vancouver around 10, basically, I’m going to be falling asleep when I get there.
“I also finished this book which will be in a different video but it was so good and I’m so glad I got to read it. I’m rambling too much, I will see you guys in Canada.”
Footage of the plane played, looking down at the ground below. In the middle of those clips, were videos of y/n either trying not to fall asleep and also her reading. Then, clips of her dragging her luggage through the airport and out the doors to find her friend's car. 
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
⟹ Monday, December 4, 2023 @ 10:13 in the night - Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada
“Oof! It is nearing my bedtime. Also, Tiffany just mentioned to me how weird it looks that I’m coming all the way from Italy with just a suitcase and carry-on. Don’t worry, I didn’t leave my stuff in Italy. I shipped most of my things here to Vancouver because I’m planning on living with Tif over here for a while until I can afford my place. And who knows, maybe Quinn will kidnap me and force me to come live with him.
“That is completely beside the point there. I have now been in three different countries and two different continents in basically 24 hours theoretically if we look at it from completely one time zone, Pacific. I’m going to cry actually, whether that is because of exhaustion or because I get to see my brothers in less than 20 hours, I don’t know. I will see you guys tomorrow, probably somewhere close to the time I leave for Rogers Arena. Tomorrow is the day.”
The video ends with her sighing with a smile on her face, both happy and nervous for the upcoming events to happen. She went to bed that night, comfortably in another bed instead of an airplane seat once more. Tomorrow was going to be a lot and she could only hope everything went to plan.
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
⟹ Tuesday, December 5, 2023 @ 6:23 in the evening - Rogers Arena
“I am now standing outside of Rogers Arena on this very cold day in Vancouver. I am really wishing I brought another coat, somehow I still have not trained my body to be adaptive in the cold.” She rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless, “We’re going to go meet with some of the people who are helping me pull this off and if everything works out you should be seeing the video Tiffany is taking from behind me mashed with another video my friend is taking from the stands.”
『••✎••』
Y/n stands nervously in the tunnel, playing with her fingers and picking at the skin around her nails. She bounced slightly on the balls of her feet as she listened to the skating come to a halt. It was like her eyes were trained to find her family no matter where she was or where they were. As soon as everyone stopped and got into their lines, she let out a deep breath when her eyes focused on Quinn standing alongside the others. 
His hair was longer, that was for sure. He looked older, more mature than the last time she had seen them. The last time she had actually talked to them was a few days prior, probably about a week ago. She had texted them a few times but other than that, she was too nervous she would accidentally slip up and tell them about her plan. 
Her eyes moved and they zeroed in on Jack who was conveniently also standing next to Luke. Her eyes widened a bit when she saw Luke, he was taller, much taller than she remembered. Jack almost looked the same in her opinion, the only thing different was his hairstyle but even then, he looked like the younger brother who used to pester her when she wouldn’t make his Mac ‘n Cheese the way he wanted her to. 
On the other hand, the boys were standing, looking at the ground while their feet shuffled back and forth to help keep them steady on the ice. Jack and Luke shoved each other once or twice playfully throughout the opening speeches. Quinn had a million thoughts racing through his head. This would be his first time playing against Luke on big league ice, his first time playing his brothers as captain of his team, the first time they would all be playing together in the NHL on the same ice and she wasn’t here. 
He would never hate or relent his older sister for wanting to go off and study in another country, it was an amazing opportunity. He was, however, upset about everything that she had missed of his. Luke’s draft, Luke’s debut, Luke’s first goal, the start of Luke’s rookie season, Jack’s record-breaking season, him being announced captain, his first game as captain. 
While Jack and Luke weren’t thinking about this, Quinn couldn’t help it. Y/n was his big sister, the person he had looked up to for his whole life, the person who took care of him when he took a big hit on the ice, the person who helped him through his first relationship, the person who made him soup when he was sick. She was practically everything to him. And it hurt that she wasn’t here. 
“This isn’t something we normally do, but we figured since it was a special occasion we would make an exception.”
Everyone in the arena had practically gone quiet at the words, no one knew anything extra was happening tonight. A lot of friends looked at each other in confusion, the teams eyed one another - some knowling and some just as confused as the fans -, y/n got even more nervous as the words she had drilled into her head were spoken out loud. 
“As everyone knows, this is an incredible thing happening tonight, three brothers playing against each other.” The said boys rolled their eyes once more but still had smiles on their faces, “We do know that there is one person missing however.”
Many fans of y/n who happened to be in the audience knew almost exactly what was happening at this moment. While she hadn’t hinted at coming back home, who else would they have been talking about? She was the only Hughes in question who wasn’t here. 
“As she told me when she got here, she couldn’t miss another big milestone for her brothers. So after being away in Italy for 3 years, please welcome famous YouTuber and older sister of Quinn, Jack, and Luke Hughes, y/n Hughes!”
Cheers erupted as she stepped out onto the ice and she waved a little to the fans before being almost knocked to the ground by a body tackling her. Luke’s arms wrapped around his sister tightly, his head resting on hers. She smiled softly and wrapped her arms around him as well, “Hi Lukey.”
His voice was soft, “Hi.”
“When’d you get so tall?”
“I’ve always been tall, you’re just short.” He pulled away, his hands resting on her shoulders as he looked at her. His eyes slightly glistened with tears before he pulled her into another hug. He murmured something at first, causing y/n to have to ask him to repeat it, “I’m really really really really really happy you’re here. I don’t think I could’ve gone another six months without you.”
She frowned and squeezed him a little tired before he ultimately pulled away and let Jack scoop her into a hug as well. Compared to Luke’s, Jack’s hug was relatively short because he was now antsy. This would be the first time in years that he would be playing in front of her and he wanted to make her proud. So when he pulled away about a minute later she looked at him confused. He only smiled at her before speaking, “I got the zoomies now.”
She threw her head back as she laughed, shaking her head at him. Her eyes moved round once more to see Quinn standing a foot or two away from her. When she opened her arms, he all but dove into them like Luke had done earlier. He, however, shed a few tears as his head buried into the shoulder. She patted his back and suddenly she realized how many eyes were actually on them. So while she wanted to continue her reunion with the three of them, she whispered something into his ear and he pulled away nodding. 
She waved one more time at the fans as the applause and made her way to the stands where her parents were. Once she was even slightly near her parents, Ellen pulled her into a hug, asking her a bunch of questions about when and how she got there. 
『••✎••』
After the game, y/n stood with Jim and Ellen as they waited for the boys to be done. She was in the middle of catching them up on her trip here when someone came from behind and hugged her tightly, slightly lifting her up. She squealed and turned around to hit Jack on the arm, “Hey!”
“What?” He said innocently as he threw an arm around her shoulder, “Can I not hug my sister who I haven’t seen in three years?”
“Of course you can.” She wrapped her arms around his torso and side-hugged him, “You just can’t pick me up.”
He scoffed a little, “Someone’s picky.”
“Where’s Luke and Quinn?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know. I was too excited to see you.”
At that moment, Luke and Quinn made their appearance right behind Jack and hit him over the head. Y/n rolled her eyes before hugging each of them, Quinn’s being a little longer than Luke’s. They all stared at each other once they stopped hugging and then they looked at their parents. 
“Can we go get dinner?” Jack asked.
She rolled her eyes, “Only if you’re paying rich boy.”
He shrugged before walking ahead of them. Y/n looped her arms through Quinn and Luke’s, walking down the hallway out of the arena, “Ah my favorite boys.”
“I heard that!”
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 『 instagram 』
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by jackhughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, and 42,391 more
yourusername: home <3
tagged: _quinnhughes, jackhughes, lhughes_06
*comments on this post have been disabled*
Tumblr media
270 notes · View notes
brownskinlemon · 11 months ago
Text
Deal (d.f.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairings: dom/reader
word count: 4,061
summary: You've never experienced the big O, and a night with your best friend Dominic turns into more than you planned
warnings: smutty smut, mentions of smoking, unprotected s3x, cr3ampie, multiple orgasms, some sappy emotions
authors note: this is my first ever story, and I hope you all enjoy :)
!! do not repurpose or repost as your own for any reason on any platform without credit !!
The shuffling of feet was all that could be heard as you and your best friend Dominic paced the grocery store aisles. It was nearly midnight, the store getting ready to close soon. The munchies had taken over earlier in the night, which led you two to an hour's journey around this store, baskets full of junk food in both your hands. 
“Y/N…bro” You turned back to his mouth agape, eyes fixated on a mega-sized Ben n Jerry’s tin. He toyed with his lip between his teeth for a moment, before swinging the door open and obnoxiously tossing it into his already overflowing basket. 
You snorted quietly to yourself, quickly turning back around before you ended up staring at his pink lips for far too long for your own comfort, far too long to be considered platonic admiration.
-
The streets of Naples were empty and dim, headlights dancing across you in the passenger seat of Dominic’s car as you sped down a main road. Your eyes were glued to the moonlight dancing across the thrashing waves across the shore out of your window. 
“So beautiful” He mumbled to himself.
“ I know right?” You responded without looking at him. Your head whipped around to him, surprised to find his brown eyes already fixated on you, making your heart drop suddenly.
He coughed to himself, straightening up in his seat and turning his attention back to the road, his lips once again being caught in between his lips. Those perfect fucking lips.
With his looks he could easily have every girl in Naples on a leash, but chooses not to, you never understood why. You would like to think he had commitment issues, but it seemed to be pure disinterest in dating at all. You had been friends since middle school, and though you had been in so many friends and “relationships”, your friendship stayed the same. As close as you had been, there were lines you wouldn’t dare to cross. These lines became blurry in your mind as of late. His figure, eyes,lips, voice had all been so…enchanting recently. Staying up till late overthinking every little interaction was excruciating to say the least. You’d rather die than let him know a word of it. 
You snuck glances at him as his ring-clad fingers drummed on the steering wheel to whatever song was currently on. His apartment came into view, and he skillfully maneuvered into the parking deck. After he parked, you hopped out, grabbing the 7 bags worth of snacks you had bought earlier.
“You really think we can actually eat all this?” You huffed as you made your way down the hall to his apartment.
“ I know I can, especially that ice cream.” He nodded, a small smirk pulling lightly on his face. 
-
“Ok so out of all of them, who was the best in bed?” Dom quipped, eyes fixated on the rolling tray in front of him on the bed, hands skillfully pearling one of several blunts that night. 
You were both clad in a hoodie and pajamas, sitting on his bed. A fiery orange light danced across the dim room from a lamp, “Who Hurt You?” by Daniel Caesar playing lightly in the background.
“Hm…maybe that one soccer guy. But he did the bare minimum and didn’t even make me cum.”
“Well at least you’re able to get yourself off right? Who needs em anyway.”
“Yeah…” you trailed off quietly, eyes locked on your fiddling hands which had now become the most interesting thing in the world. You could see him stop his actions out of your peripheral vision. 
“Y/N”
“Dom”
“No way you’ve never…finished? Like ever in your 20 years?”
You sighed, eyes squeezing together. “I have not.” 
Tears begin to burn at the brim of your eyes, threatening to fall with each second of embarrassing silence that follows. Sure you had discussed…sex,all bestfriends do, but there were lines you didn’t want to cross. Dom knowing about your lack of ability to orgasm was one of those lines. 
Without looking up at him you jumped up, rushing past him to the bathroom across the hall, slamming the door behind you. You sighed deeply as you leaned on the counter, locking in on your eyes in your reflection  that were reddened, caused partially by both the weed and your now falling tears. It didn’t help that weed always made everything you felt even more intense. 
“Get it together. It’s not that serious.” You repeated like a mantra quietly until a heavy knock interrupted your thoughts. 
“Y/N come out…I didn’t mean to make you cry.” You couldn’t see him but you knew he was doing that thing where he tapped his feet when he got nervous or worried.
You nibbled on your bottom lip, pausing in the silence.
“You didn’t- I mean- you didn’t Dom. Shit’s just embarrassing.”
“There’s no point in being embarrassed. Why would I care if you’re not like a sex god or something. In fact that’s pretty normal for women to have that..blockage you know?”
You chuckled lightly to yourself, amused at the way his version of comforting you. You breathed out loudly, nodding to yourself in the mirror before swinging the door open to find Dominic leaning on the doorway, running right into his chest. 
You were taken off guard as his arms wrapped around you, your tense shoulders relaxing as you embraced him back.
“You ok?”
“Yeah..don’t rub it in.” You said muffled into his chest. 
His arms loosened around you as his tall frame loomed over you. His brown eyes bore into yours from above, rendering you silent. You watched as his eyes snuck a glance at your lips, quickly snapping back up to your eyes.
“Y/N…I-”
Before he could get a word out you moved around him, walking into his room and turning over your shoulder. 
“That blunt and ice cream won’t finish itself Dom!”
You watched him smirk to himself, shaking his head as he made his way back into his room with you 
-
After several blunts and snacks, you two found yourselves wrapped up in blankets on your second movie of the night: The Breakfast Club. 
“This movie is amazing.” You quipped up with a mouth full of ice cream, eyes not leaving the screen. You heard him hum in agreement, eyes sneaking a quick glance at him as he leaned back, shifting his hips underneath his blanket. My god, if I was on that lap I would-
“Y/N” 
“Dom” Your eyes were glued to the screen as you pretended to be completely invested in the film, and not as invested as you were intently ignoring whatever conversation he was about to start. 
“About earlier…you know I’m not good with emotional sappy conversations so..bear with me...” He trailed off, pausing the movie with the remote and forcing you to find another object in the room to fixate on.
“I wanted to say that I’m sorry they didn’t..care enough to make sure you were good. I know I clown on you alot but you don’t deserve that shit.”
His hand gently made its way under your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“You hear me?” His eyes searched yours valiantly.
“Yes.” You breathed out, freezing at how intense his gaze fanned over your features. 
His eyes dropped to where he began to cup your hands gently in his, as your eyes followed. You two were never touchy, and the frequency of physical touch tonight was stoking the already intense fire that was stirring in you for him. 
“Fingers crossed the next man that gets the honor of touching you is caring, and gives your body the respect it deserves. Hm?” 
“Fingers crossed” you said quietly, trying to hide your breath that was now ragged from the little contact. 
You looked up at him, surprised to find his eyes already fixated on you. His teeth caught on his full bottom lip, his chest heaving silently. The lighting in the room, combined with the way his hair fell over his face made your body run warm. The sweet smell of his cologne mixed with weed filled your lungs and made you dizzy with desire from how close you were sitting.
Fuck it. 
“Dom”
“Y/N?”
You leaned over quickly, smashing your lips into his. It took him no time to connect your lips, hands snaking around your waist. A moment later, you pulled away, leaning your forehead against his, eyes filled with desire as they met his.
“What was that for?” He breathed in and out, attempting to catch his breath.
“I…I want to try it…with you.” Your voice faltered as your sentence went on.
“It? What’s it?”
“Sex.”
His eyes danced back and forth between yours searching for any doubt.
Your hands covered your face. “Its okay if you don’t we can go to bed and pretend like this never happened I just-”
You were cut off by his lips smashing into yours again, and he flipped you two over so he was hovering on top of you. His hips grinded into the heat between your legs as they wrapped around him . You whined into the kiss from the friction as he pulled back, his hand placed under your chin. 
“Are you sure you want this? With me I mean?” 
“Yes Dom. Please. I need you.” you whimpered out as you grind your hips up into his to emphasize your point.
A quiet groan fell from his lips. “If you ever…and I mean ever want to stop you tell me okay? I want you too but this is about you. I want you to feel good but I need you to let me know what you need more or less of. Deal?”
You nodded silently, eyes boring into his.
“Words Y/N.”
“Yes- I mean deal” tumbled from your lips that had already begun to darken from his kiss.
He chuckled to himself, diving back in to connect your lips again. His lips danced their way from your mouth, across your jaw, and down your neck, deciding on a particularly sensitive spot to mark. Your breath began to waiver and small whimpers caught in your throat as his mouth left marks across your neck, surely to be a sickening purple in the morning. 
“You sound even prettier than I had imagined.” He whispered near your ear, making your stomach turn in the most amazing way.
As he continued his attack on your neck, his long fingers began to toy with the hem of your hoodie, dipping his hands underneath to run his hands up your stomach. 
“May I?” He asked, referring to your hoodie that had been pushed above your stomach by now.
“You may.” You smiled shyly at him as he gently pushed your hoodie off your body, exposing your baby pink bra to him . He met you in your bareness, leaning back to pull his hoodie over his head. Your teeth bit down on your bottom lip at the sight of his chest, the sharpness of his abs that were littered with tattoos had made you clench your legs together in a fever of need.
He leaned back into you, finding his place once again between your legs as his lips kissed across your chest. 
“Arch up for me” He muttered.
You obeyed, arching your back up as he unclipped your bra with his free hand, sliding it off you gently. A gasp from your lips broke the thick silence in the room as his lips gently wrapped around your nipple, his large hand twisting your other nipple gently in his hand. Your hands rushed to loop into his unruly curls. 
He continued his descent down your abdomen, leaving open mouthed kisses on his path until he reached the waistline of your pajamas. He sat up, kissing your forehead as he massaged your hips. 
“Lift up.” He breathed out. Your hips lifted in response as he pulled down your pajamas in one swift motion. He toyed with the hem of your panties, eyes catching onto yours as you stared at him. 
“Remember our deal okay?” His eyebrows raised. 
“Okay.” You responded shakily. Although you were not a virgin, the line you were crossing was enough to leave you in shock. You had reached a point beyond return and there was something about the sheer size of the tent in his pants that did not lend to not being overcome with nervousness. 
He hooked his ring clad fingers into the loop of your panties, pulling them down gently. He sat back on his knees, admiring you completely bare to him, your body running hot from his gaze. 
“Good god you are so beautiful..” He shook his head in disbelief. You looked up at your best friend, and saw everything that love could offer in human form. It was almost comical how whipped he had you from a few touches. He slid down between your legs, flat on his stomach and wrapping his arms around your thighs. 
He peppered open mouth kisses and hickeys between your thighs, getting dangerously close to where you needed him most. He blew a cool stream of air over your clit, causing you to jolt your hips trying to chase some type of sensation, in response he pushes your hips down gently, readjusting his grip on you.
“Relax baby, I got you” He quipped before suddenly wrapping his lips around your center. A silent moan lodged in your throat at the sudden contact. He began to work over you with his tongue, humming in pleasure as your moan finally released from your chest, echoing in his small room. 
Your hands searched the bed wildly for something to hold onto, one of your hands settling deep in his curls while the other gripped tightly on his bicep. You grinded up into his grip, breath labored and laced with ongoing whimpers. Just then, Dominic pulled back from you, earning a whine of frustration from your needy lips.
“Shh…I’m gonna add a finger now, okay?” He asked gently. You nodded fervently, desperate for him to touch you. Your body tensed as his digit slid into you easily thanks to the wetness that had pooled between your legs. He thrusted gently, making your mouth fall open as he repeatedly brushed over your g-spot.
“Can you add a second?” You labored out through heavy breaths.
He silently obliged, sliding a second finger gently inside of you, earning him a gasp and a mantra of his name tumbling from your lips like a broken record. A high pitched sound that he had never heard before left your bruised lips as he returned his mouth to your clit while still pumping his fingers into you. 
Everything felt more intense, and it was making you dizzy. You felt pleasure running through your veins, making your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his bicep. Your hips jolted up and in response Dom wrapped his hands tightly around your thighs, locking you in his grip and keeping you from moving. You felt an unfamiliar coil in your stomach, and it was almost too much for you to handle.
“Dom I-I can’t” You whined out through eyes that were squeezed closed, attempting to loosen his grip on you and run from the intensity that he had built up between your legs. 
“Yes” He peppered in between kisses on your center, his fingers not letting up their pace. “You can. That’s an orgasm baby, I know you can get there for me. Breathe.” 
It was almost like your body was programmed to his words, because just then the coil in your abdomen had snapped. Your vision went white and you could hear nothing but your own pulse in your ears, you were sure you could faintly hear Dom’s voice in the distance. A surge of pure unadulterated pleasure rushed through you, paralyzing you in his grip while rendering you speechless except for the screams of his name that echoed in the tiny room.
As you came down, you slowly opened your eyes to find Dominic staring at you with the goofiest smile one could muster. He looked so innocent as if he wasn’t covered in your juices and hadn’t just performed witchcraft between your legs that were still shaking. 
“Dom, what the fuck.” You heaved out.
“I know right?” He quipped while massaging your hips. He leaned over to kiss your forehead.”Do you still wanna continue? I know that was…a lot, or at least it seemed like it was. I don’t wanna push you too far if not.” Your eyes raked over his frame, nodding enthusiastically.
Your confirmation was all it took for him to remove his pajama pants in one swift movement. He followed by slowly removing his boxers, groaning as his dick sprung free from its confines. Your mouth fell agape. You had always had a guess that he was well endowed, and yes he was, but you never thought that a dick could be..pretty?
“Don’t stare, it makes me nervous.” He mocked with a small chuckle, earning a small exhausted smile from you. He found his place between your legs, his dick rubbing lightly between your wet folds, making you both groan. His free hand dipped between your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“Let me know if you want me to stop, okay? I never wanna make you feel anything other than good. Deal?”
“Deal” You nodded. He pecked your lips, dropping his head to look at where you two connected between your legs. He massaged his tip lightly between your folds, letting his tip gently slip inside, as you held your breath and his own ran shakily. Your eyes squeezed together and your hands gripped his biceps.
“Breathe, don’t go blue on me baby.” 
You tried to remember how to breathe, but all you could think about was the delicious feeling of him gently stretching you out. His thrusts stayed slow as he practiced getting deeper and deeper until your hips met each other. You arched your chest up until it met his tip as his tip began to massage deeply against your g-spot.
In no time, he had worked up to a decent pace after you gave him the okay, your body running hotter than ever as he worked into you while latching his lips onto your already decorated neck. The room felt like it was spinning in the best way, and the groans he elicited into your neck made you wanna explode. You were ripped out of your trance after he suddenly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.
“Dom what are you-”  Your sentence was interrupted as the feeling of a cold liquid ran up your spine from base to tip. You whined at the sudden temperature change, whimpering as the cold was replaced with his warm mouth that had begun indulging in the ice cream off of your back. 
“Tasted even better off of you than I imagined.” he commented, following his words with immediately slipping back into you completely, snatching your already ragged breath out of your chest for the thousandth time that night. Your nails clawed into the sheets under you, searching for a grip to cope with the rush of pleasure that had overtaken your body. He trailed his hands up your torso and arms, stopping at your hands as he interlinked your fingers with his own, not relenting on his pace inside of you. 
The room was filled with the melody of your collective moans paired with the harsh colliding of your ass into his hips. A thin blanket of sweat covered both your bodies, and once again he had brought you to a point where you were thrashing underneath his touch.
The whispers near your ear were driving you insane, and he began snaking his hand down around you and between your legs, using the wetness there that had pooled to his advantage. His fingers were now circling your sensitive bundle of nerves. That familiar coil tightened again in your lower abdomen, leaving you biting down into the pillow and arching up into his thrusts.
“You think you can be a good girl and give me a second one?” He toyed.
All that left your mouth was a string of desperate whines. 
“I can’t hear you baby…” He trailed off, thrusting particularly deep at the end of his words, leaving your mouth agape.
“I..I can’t…too much”You forced out between moans.
“I think…” He increased his pace between your hips and rubbed deliciously fast around your clit “You can.”
Your eyes squeezed together as he relentlessly worked at the coil that had tightened beyond belief in your abdomen. His lips trailed up your ear, and soon that coil had snapped, making your legs lock and a string of incoherent moans tumble  from your lips as he brought you to your peak for the second time that night. 
“Fucking hell…” He groaned at the sight of you coming undone and the way you were relentlessly clenching down on him. He pumped a few more strokes, pushing one last time into you to a hilt until you felt his warm release pooling your insides.
He suddenly pulled out, making both of you gasp. You were flat on the bed now, eyes fluttering as you felt the bed dip and his footsteps leave the room. You looked over your shoulder, wondering where he had trailed off to with such urgency. You heard the water run in the bathroom and he returned moments later with a warm wet washcloth. 
“You think you can flip onto your back for me?” He asked as he stood above you. 
“Mhm” You begrudgingly obliged. “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning you up duh” He said, shaking his head.
He spread your legs, trailing the washcloth down to your stomach and thighs. He gently brushed it over your center and beyond, earning a whine from you at the sensitivity.
“Shh I know, but you quite literally made a mess. And I hate to be that guy, but you’re gonna have to come pee baby” he cooed, earning a groan from you. He stood up, slipping on his pajamas before lifting you up and placing his oversized hoodie over you, flooding your nose with his scent. He suddenly lifted you up into his arms. You felt him walking out the room, placing you down on the toilet making your feet come in contact with the cold tile.
He leaned up against the counter, looking down at you with a big dopey smile as you waited for your center to stop pulsing so you could pee.
“You’re just gonna, stand there and watch me?” You quipped, raising your eyebrow.
“Yeah unfortunately, for you.” He fake sighed. 
A moment of comfortable silence passed before you broke it suddenly with your thoughts.
“Dom that was…I didn’t know I could…that it could feel like that.” You shook your head in disbelief before continuing. “I thought I was like..broken.”
He smiled softly before leaning over to kiss your forehead. “You did great. And you know, I’d like to think I know a few things.” You snorted in response to his cockyness. 
After you had finished and gotten cleaned up, you stumbled your way back to the bedroom with his help, flopping onto the bed.
He brought the covers over you, tucking you in and sliding up behind you to hold your frame to his chest. 
“Y/N…I love you.” He whispered, in a tone that made you understand that he wasn’t just saying that as your best friend.
“I love you too.” You hummed contently.
“I know this is probably a weird time to ask seeing as you actively have a little of me leaking out of you..but…” His voice ran shaky “Would you…and I understand if not I just wanted..for you to be my girlfriend. 
You turned in his arms, eyes searching for any sign of a joke, to no avail. “Deal.” You smirked at him, knowing he understood. 
“Deal.” He kissed you, smiling into the kiss, before you turned back into his arms. His curls tickled your neck as he feathered tender kisses down your neck before he finally settled in the pillow and fell asleep. 
517 notes · View notes
jetblack4realz · 3 months ago
Text
idiot girlfriends - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader
Tumblr media
summary - bradley's stupid girlfriend doesn't understand that bradley has a life-long best friend, and that would be you
warnings - no
word count - 2.6k
______________________________________________________________
when you joined the navy, everyone knew it was only because of bradley bradshaw. well, and nick bradshaw. you wanted to do right by him and his memory by serving the same way he did and followed bradley into the navy, even pulling your own papers to graduate the same time and be in the same classes as him.
you two had been inseparable since you were toddlers. your mothers were childhood best friends and so when goose died carole moved her and brad right back to the same small town she grew up in in virginia, only a few doors down from you all.
so, when you two got assigned across the world from each other, it was a shock to everyone.
you met again in top gun, both competing for the top spot and landing ten marks above the rest of your classmates. you tied, which everyone thought was a good resolution, but you both teased about who really won for years.
you loved your line of work, emailing bradley on deployments and facetiming whenever the time difference allowed. you'd gone on random deployments off in fightertown and did a few in naples, but for the most part your commanding officers fought for you to stay in guam.
until the uranium mission.
you were ecstatic to be back in the states, stationed with him. and mav. but, mostly him. you'd jumped into his arms when you walked in and spotted him talking to your friends by the pool tables. everyone thought you guys were a thing, and you both were casual in blowing them off.
you trained hard, working well together in your fights against maverick. you managed to find tone on him once and only once, but hell, you were proud of it.
you flew with bradley and maverick, coyote as your backseater and accomplishing the mission. when he went down, you nearly had a heart attack. and when he got back it took everything in you not to kiss him, instead opting to wrap your arms around him in a death-grip of a hug.
because he had a girlfriend.
her name was gabbie, and she definitely gabbed. she was a brat, you and phoenix decided as soon as you were introduced to her.
"hey," bradley said with a wide smile, reaching out for you as he approached the group. you matched his smile and wrapped your arms tightly around him in a quick hug. when you pulled away, he offered phoenix a quick wave before he gestured to the girl with narrowed eyes behind him. "guys, this is gabbie. we've been together a couple months, she started emailing me this last deployment."
"right," you nodded, offering her a polite smile. "hi."
"this is phoenix, and this is minnie - or y/n," bradley said, gesturing to you with a soft smile. he looked back at his girlfriend. "she's my childhood best friend, i've known her forever."
"oh really?" she hummed with a dramatically sweet smile. "well, it's nice to meet you then."
"yeah, you too," you said with a nod. "wanna play pool with us? you could have the table next."
"does everyone in the navy play pool? even the women?" she laughed to rooster, his brows furrowing slightly. she looked back at you. "just because you're in the military doesn't mean you have to do everything the guys do. and you don't have to wear your hair that way on night's out either. you're off duty! dress cute!"
you were beyond shocked and so were the rest of your friends. your hair was up in a messy bun because yeah, you were tired after the week's dealings and didn't want to curl it. but also, top knots weren't regulation anyways.
and you thought it looked cute.
"i'm sorry?" you asked, tilting your head as you stared at her.
"well, do you like how i did my hair? i could show you if you want," she offered, playing with her front pieces, but it only made your grimace deepen.
"i'm good, thanks," you told her. you turned your attention to hangman, your go-to games partner. "jake - darts?"
as you walked away, whispering to him likely about gabbie, bradley watched with a frown.
whenever she hung out with the daggers she insisted that she would rather stay by his side than hang out with you and phoenix, making snide comments about women in the military and more about your appearance. and whenever you would try to have a private conversation with him, she was immediately by his side. you felt like you never talked to him anymore, that you couldn't talk to him anymore.
"wanna step outside for a minute?" you asked quietly, nodding your head to the back porch. "i need to talk to you about something."
"yeah, for sure," he answered quickly, his brows furrowed in concern. "what's wrong?"
you sighed, glancing around at where your friends were stood swinging back beers and shooting around the pool table in a game of 9-ball. your eyes caught on an approaching gabbie, a fresh mai tai in hand.
"can we go outside?"
"yeah, of course," he said with a nod. his hand hovered over your lower back as he ushered you to the back door, slipping out of it behind you and following you to the railing. he leaned his back against it, eyes on you.
"what's wrong?"
"my dad texted this morning," you said, breath shaky as you glanced at your phone. he looked down too, reaching for it when it was offered to him. "it's my mom."
the door opened and out came gabbie. "hey guys! what's up?"
"hey baby, i'm so sorry, but could you go back inside?" rooster asked gently, offering her an apologetic smile. "we're having a private conversation."
"too private for your girlfriend?" she asked, quirking a brow as she glanced at you. she looked you up and down and you hated how pissed off it made you.
"yeah, i'm sorry honey," he said. "it's personal."
"shouldn't i know about your personal things?" she asked, her tone still high and light enough to feign innocence, but you were getting increasingly upset as she refused to leave.
"it's not his personal life, it's mine. it's my stuff that i'd like to discuss with my best friend, in private," you said in as even a tone as you could produce.
"do you need help with anything?" she asked. "i could help too."
"no thank you," you said. "just bradley right now."
"no, i'm actually working front desk at a therapists' office right now and i've picked up on a few things. i'd be happy to work a few techniques with you if you're feeling depressed or-"
"forget it," you mumbled, shoving your phone in your pocket and pushing passed her to get inside.
bradley sighed, following you quickly. she tried to catch his arm, saying something about the sunset, but he followed you inside, mumbling apologies and trying to get you to talk to him again.
you offered him a thin smile. "later."
later never came. there wasn't enough time in the work day to talk about private matters and it seemed like gabbie now had a permanent tie to his side.
the girl infuriated you to your core.
but, for bradley's sake and trying to be a good best friend, you offered one night to get to know her outside of the hard deck. she didn't even entertain the idea when bradley approached her about it.
"i'm not a girl's girl," she mumbled to him while you exchanged an eyeroll with coyote, able to hear their whole conversation thanks to her inability to whisper. "i've never been good at that. i'm better with guys."
"not likely," phoenix muttered to you with a roll of her eyes. "hypocrite."
"well, she's not necessarily girly either, hun," rooster told her, brows furrowed. "she is military."
"which isn't my cup of tea either. but, it's alright! i'll just stay with you and the boys," she answered, hands coming up to hang off his shoulder. her eyes were trained on you as you turned back to your game with hangman, scoffing under your breath.
"alright baby," rooster relented, eyes on your back with a knit in his brow.
"i'm trying here," you muttered to the man next to you as you leaned down to take your next shot. jake shrugged.
"can't help who she likes as friends."
"wish i could help who she likes romantically."
"what do you mean by that, min?" a smirk was already growing on his lips and you groaned.
"oh, don't start. everyone knows it," you said, moving around the table for the best angle.
"yeah, but you've never admitted it," he teased, following you. "do you like rooster?"
"he's right there, dickhead, go and say it louder," you said with a quick glare, shooting your last ball into the pocket.
"what'd you say, minnie?" rooster asked, eyes on you and jake both intently.
"nothing, just trash-talking hangman here," you answered, standing and clapping a hand on said man's shoulder. you smiled at jake. "he's about to get his ass beat."
you lined the cue ball up with the 8 ball, counting to three in your mind before you shot, the two balls clicking together and the 8 ball landing in the corner like you predicted.
"ha!" you exclaimed, turning to him. "loser!"
"you didn't call it," he hummed, a wicked grin on his lips. "scratch! i won!"
"what? no!" you cried.
"oh yes, princess," he laughed.
"you could tell what i was going for," you argued.
"oh could i?" he teased with a wiggle of his brows.
you scoffed, but couldn't help the laugh that escaped your mouth as he did a stupid 80s-like victory dance, phoenix leaning into you to mumble teases about the man.
from behind you, bradley's face had settled into a scowl.
"minnie," he called. "you and me."
your eyebrows shot up and a smirk lifted one side of your mouth. "oh really, roo? you wanna take me on?"
gabbie looked taken aback that he'd offered to play you.
"she just played. how 'bout you play coyote here?" she asked, looking at javi with a smile.
"nah, i'll give y/n another chance to win," he answered, his eyes not leaving you as you faced him with a smile.
"game on, chicken," you told him with a grin, moving to rack the balls.
he helped you, your hands brushing as you placed them into the triangular rack. your eyes found each other, a subtle smile on your lips as you placed the 8 ball in the center.
"all you mousey," he told you.
"you know, maybe i will take you up on your offer," gabbie chimed in, catching your attention. "let's do something."
"alright," you said slowly, nodding at her. "we'll figure it out later."
"no, let's go get a drink and talk," she replied.
"i'm playing bradley right now. later," you insisted. she seemed to harden at your use of his proper name and she approached where you stood next to rooster. she grabbed your forearm gently, tugging you towards the bar.
"phoenix will take your place. come on!" she said with fake enthusiasm. everyone could tell it was just that and you were left stumbling after her with knitted brows.
"no gabbie, we're playing," rooster told her, taking a hold of your other arm and tugging you back to him. she turned to him with a sharp look in her eye and you hated where you were standing at that moment.
"she wanted girl time, bradley, so i'm giving her girl time," she told him. she turned her attention to you, a sweet sweet smile shot in your direction. "maybe i can give you makeup advice?"
"okay, no," you laughed dryly, ripping you arm from her grasp easily. "i'm good, thank you. i don't need your makeup advice."
"oh, honey, you do," she cooed condescendingly. "i think the boys would agree."
"you're being rude and i'd like you to leave," you said calmly. you looked at rooster. "can you take her home, please?"
he looked conflicted, glancing at you and then gabbie.
"i don't need to go home," she told you.
"oh, so you're gonna play nice?" you asked, raising your brows.
"i will when you do," she answered, glaring openly at you now. you breathed an incredulous laugh, glancing back at phoenix with wide eyes before returning your attention to her.
"what the hell does that mean? i've been trying to be friends with you, lady!"
"oh yeah, just so you can cozy up next to bradley a second later," she said, her glare deepening as she gestured to his hand on your wrist.
"the hell are you saying?" you asked. "i've known him my whole life, forgive me for trying to maintain a friendship."
"no," she shot back. "because you're not just maintaining it."
"yeah, it's flourishing under your watch," you spat sarcastically. you shook your head, glancing back at bradley for a moment before pulling your arm from him and stepping back. you held your hands up in faux defense, scoffing as you stepped towards the door. "sorry brad, i'm not allowed to talk to you anymore."
"no, y/n, stop," he said quickly, shaking his head and sighing. "gabbie, stop saying stuff like that."
"it's true! she's making moves on you bradley," gabbie insisted.
the daggers were not amused, watching as you rolled your eyes and waiting for what bradley would do in respone.
"she's not," he said.
"but if i was?"
that was a question that caught him off guard. he looked at you, his mouth falling open and brows furrowing as he struggled for a response.
"i - what?"
you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest before looking at him with complete seriousness and honesty. "look, she's not the girl for you bradley. i think you've figured that out by now. the rest of us sure as hell have."
"what are you saying?"
"i'm here," you said with a shrug, taking another step back towards the door. "i've always been here. do with that what you will."
gabbie was awestruck, watching you with wide eyes as you strutted out of the bar.
"bradley-"
"gabbie, i can't do this anymore," he said, eyes flashing to her as soon as you left his view. "she's right. you're not the girl for me and i'm not the guy for you. you'll find him, i know you will."
"what? what the hell are you-"
"and now i've gotta go get mine," he said, offering her a small, apologetic smile before running through the bar, dodging customers and slipping out the door after you.
"about time," coyote laughed, leaning back to sip on his beer.
"oh, screw all of you," gabbie spat. "i thought we were getting along, but i guess not."
"cheers to that!" jake said, clinking his bottle with phoenix's as she glared, leaving the room quickly.
bradley chased after you, desperation in his voice as he called, "y/n! y/n!"
you turned, a subtle smile on your lips as you peered at him. "yeah?"
"i want you," he said, grabbing your hands with a wide smile. "i want you forever. i want you to always be here and i want to always be here for you and i'm sorry that i wasn't, but i promise i will be."
"just kiss me, bradshaw," you told him, a grin overtaking his lips as he pulled you into him, his hands cupping your jaw as he pressed his lips to yours.
the kiss wasn't without passion, the both of you having been waiting for this moment for who knows how many years. your arms were wound tightly around his neck as you pulled away for air. you both had stupid grins on your faces, just watching each other.
"thanks," you breathed out dopily.
"anytime," he answered. he leaned closer to you, smirking slightly. "all the time."
he kissed you again, you smiling as you kissed him back.
"fuck yeah!"
you pulled back quickly to see phoenix and the daggers on the front porch, watching with knowing grins.
"we've been waiting for this!" coyote whooped.
you rolled your eyes and laughed at your friends before looking bradley back in his beautiful browns. "i have been too."
125 notes · View notes
diari0deglierrori · 9 months ago
Text
“Move on” you’re saying that to the person who gets emotionally attached to literal trash
0 notes
literaryvein-reblogs · 3 months ago
Text
Writing Notes: Wine-Tasting
Tumblr media
for your wine-tasting scenes
Enhance your wine-tasting experience and better identify different wines with these tips:
Cleanse your palate between sips. When tasting for flavors of the wine, you must cleanse your palate by using a spittoon and drinking water. “I regularly cleanse my palate with water. I like to use high-pH water, eight or above . . . . I find that alkaline solution of water cleanses my palate much better and reduces the acid in many wines,” James Suckling, a wine critic, says. “I also might have some bread, or olives are great with red wine. You want things that refresh your palate.” Cleansing your palate helps your taste buds enjoy more subtle flavors.
Do a blind tasting. “When I was starting as a taster in the ’80s, when I studied to be a master of wine, I was always blind tasting,” James says. Tasting blind means not knowing the kind of wine you are tasting—be it a zinfandel, rosé, pinot grigio, or syrah—so that will not influence your tasting. Moreover, tasting blind means not looking at the label; sometimes, a label plays up the fruit flavors or connotes an older wine, which can impact your interpretation of the varietal while tasting.
Get the wines to the right temperature to rate. Temperature is critical for wine tasting. “I think it’s important for whites to be between fourteen and sixteen degrees centigrade—not too cold but cold enough to be fresh. If it’s too cold, I’m not going to be able to discern the aromas, taste, and texture,” James says. “The reds I also like a little bit cooler than normal. A lot of people serve their reds at twenty-two or room temperature. I like them around nineteen or twenty.” Using wine glasses with a stem is essential, so you can adequately hold the glass without warming the wine.
Pay attention to scent. Articulating scent is an essential tasting skill. In trying one wine during a blind tasting, James notes “some warmth. Aromas of lemon curd, maybe some fresh basil. And I get a sensation of ash. Like, ash from volcanoes; there’s a number of white wines made in Italy that are coming from volcanic soils such as Etna in Sicily, Campania near Naples, and Soave near Verona.” Quality wines give you primary and secondary aromas, sometimes even tertiary ones. Breathe in your wine with your lips slightly parted to anticipate a wine’s flavor and notes. Take a small sip of wine and see if you sense wooden notes from oak barrels, high acid from citrus fruits, or sweetness from red fruits or tropical fruits.
Swirl your glass of wine. Getting your wine to move around enlivens its scent. “When you’re tasting, it’s really important to swirl the wine to get some air in there to bring out the wine aromas,” James says. “Also, it’s important not to have too much wine in the glass. I like to have about thirty or fifty milliliters in the glass. Then you can really give it a good swirl.” After swirling, note the viscosity and the tannins, the sediment along the bottom or sides of the glass. Use a new wine glass for each new bottle of wine in a blind tasting.
Taste in a clear space. Sometimes, you might taste wine in the cool climate of winemakers’ cellars or a busy room full of people as part of a wine club. To concentrate on the wine’s color and qualities, try to taste the wine in a well-lit, not-too-noisy tasting room. Light is essential when applying the [wine point] scale to red, orange, or white wines. “It’s important that the environment’s clean [and] well-lit,” James says. “I can concentrate on the wines. Sometimes that’s not possible if I’m in a cellar, traveling at dinner, or in a restaurant. But ideally, when I’m tasting, especially blind, it’s important to have a place where I can concentrate.”
Use the wine point system. Following the 100-point wine system can help you determine a good wine. The 100-point system is a rating scale for wine quality. Wine scores go up to 100 points, with 100 points going to the best wines. Whether you’re trying a dessert wine or a dry wine, this scoring system helps you better break down and comprehend the quality of a wine. “I think it’s an easy way to communicate about wine,” James says. “It's an easy way for you to understand quality.”
Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References
91 notes · View notes