#also it just so happened to be the day i finished it

[yanderelovebites]

Back with batsis stuff and kinda wanna do the whole isekai thing. Have reader meet their end somehow and wake up in a fanfic that was never finished of a neglected batsis. Have them wake up at the incident that made them get sent over to Bruce.

Have the original girl’s memories and knowing already they didn’t like her, didn’t want her, etc. she decided to just live for herself and future. Girlie went with her father who gave her that initial attention but after that she was taken to her room. She’s six. Have her give that grieving period of two weeks where she just got used to the room and the manor before she started asking for things. It’ll be probably one form of martial arts and later on probably also either music or dance. When she isn’t doing either of those things she sketching in her book and she’s actually really good.

Have her be closest with Alfred but still keep a certain wall up against him just like the others. Have her be a few months older than Damian and Damian isn’t quite in the picture yet. She ignores when the others are in the house despite being a part of said home. She only looks for her father for school needs and while still keeping her distance will set birth cards and Father’s Day cards on his desk in the study. She never hands them to him so she doesn’t know what he does with them nor does she care.

If the character she is reborn as is meant to be neglected, why should she bother trying to reach out?

She eventually had no choice but to meet Jason because he was there… they didn’t know how to explain to her why red hood is there. She simply said “Hello, I would chat but I have Jujitsu in 20 so I have to leave. Nice meeting you.” It was concerning how she brushed it off. Of course she realizes after ‘oh none of them would know I know… nah I’ll just continue on. Who knows, it might bother them!’

By the time Damian gets there, she’s been through karate, jujitsu, and only a year of Taekwondo while also taking dancing/music lessons. She has won art competitions but only Alfred has ever seen or heard. Bruce may have heard but he barely listened to the announcement of it. He knows from a portrait she was forced to sit for with Bruce, Tim, and Dick, she exists. Yet, it takes a week for him to ever see her.

He asks questions like in the original, but what batsis reader doesn’t understand is she changed how Damian sees her since she wasn’t immediately clingy to anyone. Dick TRIES to remember anything and realizes he doesn’t really know her. Tim can’t really tell him anything either other than medical records in case anything happens. Literally all Tim gave Damian was that Damian and batsis have the say blood type. They realize they really don’t know batsis which does unnerve them. All they can say is she stays to herself. That both irritates Damian and intrigued him. He tries Alfred next who is able to at least tell him what she does routinely at least. How she’s been in martial arts after her first two weeks living here, implied she was grieving, and she’s also been in music/dance lessons as well. Also explains she enjoys participating in art contests. He goes on about her being an A+ student and explains she doesn’t interact much with the rest of the family. He even says “To be honest, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one she talks to in any capacity that isn’t out of necessity.”

Jason pretty much only knew about one of the martial arts being jujitsu. He explains she didn’t seem phased that red hood had entered her home and that she didn’t know about the Batman secret.

He doesn’t immediately approach her either. He doesn’t have all the information he needs. All he knows is she’s his half sibling, her usual activities, at least one of the forms of martial arts she knows, and that otherwise she’s a bit of a mystery. Eventually they’re forced to eat at a family dinner together. Since it really bothered Dick that he didn’t know anything he starts asking her about school. No one ever asked her questions, half the time they act like she isn’t there, so she’s confused, but politely says it’s been fine. Talks briefly about her classes, the mention of what classes she’s currently taking makes Tim and Dick shocked. For Tim it’s simply the fact that *she* was taking them and for Dick it’s the fact someone her age was taking such advance classes. Tim coughed and asked her what she did after school on Friday, mostly to hear anything else and she’s like “Oh just another art competition. I placed first with my painting.” She says and continues eating.

Bruce honestly is trying to process what he heard and saw and Damian treats it as a way to analyze her. The way she eats, the way she talks, her posture, and of course the tiny bits the boys were getting out. She then says “I’m sure Alfred has already told you about that, however, right father?” He coughs for a moment and nods as to hide the fact he himself has been caught off guard. For Damian she isn’t like a role model for what he’s grown up with, it’s more she’s a role model for what a Wayne is. She’s perfect in all things you’d expect the public to see a Wayne for. Knows arts, has some martial arts background, and has a certain air of modesty yet wealthy around her.

This attention to her is still brief at this time for Tim, Dick, and Bruce. They ask if she’s met Damian and she says “Not really, at best some glances. I’m always moving after all.” That dinner felt awkward, but Damian decided she wasn’t Particularly a threat…

And by all things holy it annoys the crap out of Tim. He actually tries to speak to her—which she is cautious at first because she knows what he did to the original Batsis. Instead of drawing his sword on her, he asked about her martial arts since that’s really all he can… talk about with her… and the part that annoys Tim on it… is simply he won’t shut up about her-

And he thought when Damian called himself the blood son was annoying! Now it’s ’blood sibling’ this and that if bringing her up in conversation occurs. It’s clear he respects her in such annoying ways.

I just imagine the Yandere Batfam doesn’t all happen at once. It starts with Damian. You don’t see it at first because you blame his upbringing. He’s stuck to your side during banquets as much as he despises them. He mirrors some of your ‘mask’ etiquette in that all the Wayne’s have an image. You kept yours on as rock solid as possible, you are not the same person. He can tell you must have some inspiration from your father as yours is a rather innocent persona. You act like a social butterfly amongst the people and seem so damn sweet. He just doesn’t like how many eyes are on you. You acted like you couldn’t feel it, but it’s hard to ignore Damian. In fact, it accidentally wentinti his persona as people saw him as a clingy little brother to his slightly older sister. That it just made ‘sense’ since you two are so close in age.

Damian would just get worse as time went on. It’s get to the point you realize he isn’t faking or anything he actually just likes you. Then you get kidnapped.

I imagine no one but Alfred and Damian realize something is wrong. He’s the reason they find you and he nearly kills the guy who kidnapped you. Of course it’s not like you just let them take you, there was evidence even before they were brought to an inch of their life. You hadn’t made it easy and they could tell you had injured them beforehand. However they had broken your legs and that’s when I’d get worse for Damian and start in Bruce.

I might add more thoughts later I dunno it’s kind of an idea dump

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

X♡X♡ [SEVEN DAYS] Day 4

You've already won.

Tags/Warnings: Porn with a lot of plot basically, inexperienced!reader, Dom!Jungkook, BDSM themes and elements, discussion of past bad experiences (sexual and general relationships), toys, jk is more dominant in this, NSFW, size kink if you squint, Subspace, a teeny bit of Angst, a little of fluff, brat behavior

Wordcount: 6k

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: screw it i can't hold this back any longer. Sorry if it's disappointing..

◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇

You never really knew that Jungkook is actually a pretty good home-cook.

Obviously, he is no michelin star collector, his chaotic nature bleeding through his every move- but it's still clear that he has skill and a genuine passion for what he’s doing. It feeds, however, also into your own personal observation about him; that while he is a dominant person by nature who enjoys controlling situations to their fullest, he’s also a pleaser. He seems to thrive most the moment you tell him you trust him, when you let him lead or even just seek out physical contact to him. It reminds you of what he told you before.

‘As long as you make me feel wanted, I’ll be just fine.’

“You’re staring.” Jungkook chuckles as he finishes cleaning the dishes from your shared breakfast earlier. There has been some tension between you, and you know he’s waiting for you this time. The training wheels are slowly coming off, and he’s becoming less and less easy on you. It's exciting because you also feel.. like you could challenge him.

And whatever the punishment, you’ll take it.

But no matter what you tried and try, nothing really seems to get a proper reaction out of him. So when you sit in front of him now on the couch that acts as your bed as well for this week, you’re stunned. “What?” You ask, making him repeat his words. You’ve just offered him yourself, told him you want to have proper sex, and instead of taking the chance, he wants to…?

“I said:” He smiles impishly as he speaks, “Get me off without touching me, and I’ll fuck you the way you want.” He repeats his lewd sentence freely as ever, long having shed the shame about the topic.

Well, the task itself isn’t what you didn’t understand. It’s more so, that you don’t understand why it needs to be so difficult? “but- I thought you want this?” You argue weakly, and he nods.

“I do.” He agrees. “that, and so much more. But you also wanted me to stop being so soft with you.” He repeats your request, and in a way, you want to smack your past self for making this so difficult for you now. “also, trust me- it’ll be a lot more interesting this way.” He almost seems to joke, and you can clearly see and feel just how excited he is as well.

Because deep down, you can understand it.

And you’re ready to take on the challenge.

◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇

The entire rest of the day, you attempt to distract him from his placed challenge the best you can. If you can trick him into forgetting his own rules, maybe you can somehow cheat your way to the goal?

Jungkook however sems to have a sixth sense for your antics however. No matter what you do to try and get his attention, his patience never seems to snap. If anything, it just seems to amuse him- and that’s not quite what you were aiming for.

What you also weren’t aiming for was the fact that he could turn your wonderful plans against you in a heartbeat- the remote controlled toy inside you buzzing to life yet again while you went to read something on your phone on the couch. It’s been happening for almost an hour now, randomly- and never enough to really get you off properly.

Your plan was simple; after a bit of research, you read that some guys are really into the controlling part of the toy, but that it would often lead to more than that later on. So you not-so-subtly told Jungkook that you had taken the toy, and not only that- you'd mentioned that you were ‘wearing’ it, too. The look on Jungkook’s face was surprised at first- but quickly shifted, gaze changing as he acknowledged what you had informed him of.

What you didn’t think about, was that Jungkook isn’t just some guy.

He knows how to control himself, and he knows how to control others even better it feels like. A text on your phone makes your skin run hot, as it only displays a simple message.

[Don’t you dare cum.]

It’s not even like he can see you! The buzzing of the toy is a strange rhythm, and you move your hands between your thighs to shift things a bit, when Jungkook’s voice is heard.

“Can’t follow basic instructions when you’re not supervised, huh?” He chuckles, walking into the open kitchen to open the fridge and take out a bottle of soda. “I said don’t cum. Get your hands off your cunt.” He commands before unscrewing the plastic cap and bringing the neck of the bottle towards his lips to drink from it.

For some reason, you do exactly as he says. But the way he said it did not really make your situation any better.

“Not too sure where you were going with this plan of yours-” He teases, as he walks closer to you, bottle still in hand. “-But I’m giving points for creativity.” He chuckles, holding the bottle out for you. “You look thirsty, darling.” He jokes.

You glare at him, trying not to shift in order not to make it worse for yourself. But still, you look at the beverage with a bit of longing- maybe drinking something can help you calm down?

Wrong.

Especially when it’s his hand underneath your chin that holds your face at the right angle to make you drink from the bottle, look in his eyes sharp and devilish to say the least. He’s visibly happy about the clear display of dominance over you, maybe even amused by it? In a way, you don’t care. This side of Jungkook is new, and you feel excitement over the whole ordeal.

Maybe your plan is working?

But as soon as you’re done drinking, he reaches into the pocket of his pants, and turns off the device with a simple tap on his touchscreen.

“Take it out, princess.” He says, nodding towards your legs.

You stare, and wait.

“Too hard to follow?” He asks you in fake worry. “Okay, simpler terms then. Get up.” He waves his hand up, and your legs seem to move for a second without your command- making you embarrassed, before you roll your eyes and still follow his request. Standing in front of him, he nods, before he taps at your hips. “Strip.” He tells you as a next step, and you almost stubbornly kick off your shorts. “Strip further, baby.” He emphasizes, but there’s a dangerous undertone to it.

You’re testing a limit.

You slowly move to push your panties off your legs- fabric clinging to your wet folds for a second before it falls to your feet. Much to your surprise however, Jungkook gets to his knees right in front of your exposed legs- before he taps your thighs on the inside- a silent command to part your legs.

This is an oddly embarrassing position to be in. Strangely. Because technically, he’s seen it all- so why does this make you feel so.. Small?

Maybe it’s his gaze. Maybe it’s the fact that despite being in a lower position, he still controls the situation. Or maybe it’s just because it’s him.

His fingers pull on the tail of the toy that’s still outside, making your core clench involuntarily. “No.” Jungkook lowly warns. “Give it up.” He commands, and you want to look away from the scene so badly as you relax your muscles- toy finally slipping out, hanging warm and wet from Jungkook’s fingers that still hold onto the tail end of it.

You feel empty.

“Go wash up.” He kisses your cheek, tone kind again. “But no fun times in there. I’ll be checking when you come out.” Jungkook warns, and you groan in agony-

Though you have to admit, that it’s kind of fun.

◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇

Its late, and you’re both breathing heavily.

This happened rather spontaneously to be honest- a commercial break having broken your attention to the TV show you were both watching, making Jungkook turn it off entirely before focusing on you instead. After that steamy Makeout session of the two lovers in the show, you’d stolen glances at Jungkook any second you could, stolen orgasms from the entire early day still leaving you unsatisfied and hungry for any kind of release.

And it did not go unnoticed.

Maybe it's been tough on him too, because it feels as if he can’t undress you fast enough- hands struggling with the clasp of your bra in the back for a moment, before he groans in anger about it, and just pushes the whole garment up to reveal your chest to him, fabric pulled over your head in it’s entirety. He’s hungry, clearly so- but you’re struggling on your end, despite the misery.

This is what you wanted. Something soft, slow, romantic. But right now, all it does is cause you frustration.

And you wonder why.

Did he taint you so much that you’re now forever stained with the way he does things, so much so that you’ll forever seek what he’s offered? Has he ruined you to the point of no return, that no ‘normal’ form of bedroom love can fulfill your needs any longer? This is what you had wanted at the start- something calm, casual, something you know. But for some reason, there’s something awoken inside you that makes you yearn for his touch to be more demanding, more exciting, more enticing than this. Have you gone mad?

Or are you simply not seeing the bigger picture?

His lips on your skin are sensual, warm but not hot, gentle, caring, affectionate. His hands never grab too hard, only brush over you, map out your body as if he needs to remind himself of every curve you have.

You want more. Need more. This is too slow. Or is it?

His tongue over your chest makes your breath hitch, back arching off the mattress as he gently bites your hardened bud, pulling it a little, always teasing, never going rough. You never imagined you’d want more than that, but there’s this sudden need to be absolutely ruined by him.

And that’s somehow exactly what he’s doing.

His hand only occasionally finds its way between your legs to spread around your leaking arousal, even sometimes taunting you by using it to cover his bare length in it, hand only slowly moving to close around it in a fist, hips thrusting into his hand, a mere glimpse offered at what he could be giving you.

You know he’s warm. Heavy, and thick. More than the toy could’ve offered you last time. You want him, as deep as he can go.

Your brain is filled with the most obscene visuals of his cum leaking out of you, filling you up until there’s no space for anything else. It’s as if you’ve gone rabid, head no longer functioning, only instincts left and the need for that very specific pleasure only he can offer you.

You’re a slave to his touch, and you’re not even upset about it.

“Nuh-uh.” He chuckles, as you try and reach for him. “Patience.” He scolds softly.

“Please-!” You whine, but its not working at all as he leans over you, his cock rubbing over your stomach, way to far away from where you need him most. “jungkook-“

“You sound so sweet when you beg.” He purrs, licks and bites at your neck, kisses placed with meaning behind them. “I think I could cum just from this.” He chuckles. “Can you?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Need you..” you whine.

“You have me.” Jungkook reassures you. “I’m right here.” He offers, but you reach out to touch him, this time trying to keep your self control, only letting your fingers run over his abdomen. “Such a good girl. Following rules so well.” He tells you with amusement in his tone.

It’s the rule, after all. You’re allowed to touch, to feel, to move. Just not there.

You’ll have to get creative if you want to get him off without touching him at all. Because if you do- you win. And the grand prize will be what you’ve begun to anticipate with eagerness and excitement, and no more fear.

Because it’s Jungkook.

And you’re starting to no longer think you’re falling in love with him-

But believe in it.

Suddenly, there is an idea in your head. Jungkook had made the mistake of not making the rules too clear- which means that you’ve got a bit of room to play with, as you collect your thoughts and form a new plan. He’s clearly more than just aroused, tip leaking onto your lower stomach, and that alone offers you an opportunity.

He spots the way your gaze changes instantly. Like something awoken inside you, the you that’s looking at him is no longer unsure or worried or holding back.

Your hands move between your legs, to spread your own arousal over the inside of your thighs, just for your legs to close up, and lift to be pushed towards your body- closing up on the very tip of his, and he gets the message crystal clear.

A smirk finds its way over his lips, as your hands reach for his hips.

“You want me to fuck your thighs, huh?” He chuckles, leaning in, accepting the offer seemingly and making your blood rush in your veins. You found it. You solved the problem. “cute.” He says, kissing your neck-

“But I said get me off, not make me do it myself.”

Your whole world crashes down as you realize the fatal flaw in your plan, leaving you at square one again. The frustration builds, making you whine for a moment before you snap- pushing at his chest to make him switch positions with you, his body now beneath yours. You’re not sure what to do now, a bit uncertain again as you feel too responsible in this position.

How’re you supposed to solve this?

Meanwhile Jungkook, beneath you, is mesmerized.

You know that the easy way out would be to simply jump over the rules, or give up- two options you probably would’ve made use of days prior without the experiences you’ve collected until now. But you’re following what he said, always staying on the road he set up for you, only ever looking at other ways possible, but you never dare to go against his orders.

So obedient. But what’s most amazing to him about it, is that you freely choose to be.

He’s been giving you options to take the lead left and right, but you willingly let him control you and the scene. The amount of trust you put in him makes him feel high almost, and it’s not just the fact that he’s feeling the ‘rush’ of somehow ‘corrupting’ you in any way. This isn’t just something that he feels because you play into his fantasies.

This is way more than that.

Suddenly, your body loses all tension, as you lean down on him, openly seeking his help without even asking. “A bit of a tough challenge, hm?” he reassures you, and you nod, stubborn as you sit back on his thighs, still unsure what you’re supposed to do. You’re not as adventurous as him, you don’t yet have this big collection of fantasies yet. So, in a way, he had expected this outcome- making him not even surprised, nor disappointed.

He could never be disappointed in you.

“Tell me what to do.” You request, and he watches you for a good second or two. Oh he definitely has more than a handful of ideas blossoming in his mind about what he’d love for you to do- but small steps, for now.

“I already told you, though.” He almost teases, not bowing down this easily. He’s not that quick to break under your doll-like eyes, he doesn’t falter at the way you lick your lips this quickly.

Suddenly, your gaze changes. You have an idea, and he’s curious to see it.

You remember one crucial thing about him he’s always made sure to emphasize; he doesn’t need much to come undone. Sex isn’t as straight forward with him as it is with others- some you simply need to think outside the box, and try seeing it from a different perspective. What makes him shiver? What made him sigh out in pleasure last time? What could potentially make him weak? And then it hits you.

Its right there. Right in front of you; and you simply failed to see it.

“What is it?” He asks, and you take a shuddering breath as you prepare yourself to be brave for once, before you say it.

“I don’t like this.”

Your eyes are closed, and you feel terrible for a good couple of seconds- because while it is an admission you knew you had to make, it still makes you feel incompetent and like a looser. You ruined the moment and failed his game, and not only that- you had to admit that this might just be too much for you. But this feeling doesn’t last long, because soon enough his hands hold your face to lift it towards him, your gaze finding his as he looks at you with what can only be described as pride.

“there we go.”

He needs you to understand exactly this. He needs you to feel safe, and not just in a simple way. You need to feel 100% comfortable before you can begin to rely on him to the point he so desperately wishes you would- and it looks like you’re beginning to understand this.

“That’s all it took baby.” He smiles encouragingly, hands moving to run over your skin, before he moves you to lay down on your back again. “I need you to say what you think. I want to know all your thoughts.” He almost whispers before he brings his lips down on your neck, still so careful with you.

“Jungkook-“ you sigh out, before you look at him. “-I think I can.” You spill out, unable to keep it in anymore- because if he wants to know all your thoughts, he should know this one too, as delicate as it is still.

“Can what?” He wonders, looking down at you from his position above your body.

“I think I can love you.”

The implications of this sentence are massive- because it finally gives him the feedback he was hoping to find. You want him, in every way, and it finally gives him the last push of confidence to really let you in. Now he can fully commit himself, try his hardest to make this work, because even if it doesn’t end up the way you both are hoping for, he knows that you at least want this.

You want more than sex.

You want him.

His kisses are of an entirely different nature now as he devours your soul it feels like, and this sudden display of clear vulnerability makes you feel like you’re leaving something heavy behind you. Like a backpack dropped from your shoulders, your hands no longer move in a shy way- instead they reach out to him with comfort in mind, wanting to touch him with just as much care as he’s offered you these past few days.

He deserves it.

And he feels the change in you. Your whole body behaves just a little differently now, legs pulling his own closer without hesitation as you suddenly giggle out even, drunk off of him. “Did I fail?” You ask, and he shakes his head, hand grabbing at your flesh.

“No.” He denies, out of breath. “I’m changing the rules.” He decides, leaning back a bit to let you breathe, just to witness the sight of you moving your arms up to stretch even, back arching towards him, innocently teasing.

“Can you just do that?” You challenge, and he leans his head to the side a bit, looking down at you with the eyes of something similar to a demon in disguise.

“I can.” He affirms. “And I say fuck the rules.” He states towards you.

He knows you’re on the very edge of something you yourself are completely unaware of- and he wants to see it, craves to witness it at it’s fullest. This will test whether or not you truly can be what you told him you can’t, and what he believes slumbers deep inside of you.

When he turns onto his back, and maneuvers you to sit atop of him, you’re a bit unsure- but you trust him. You want to rely on him- not just in terms of sex.

But it all starts here.

“Take as much as you like-” He reassures you with hands on your thighs. “-this isn’t a challenge.” Jungkook clears up one last time for you. “You can’t fail this. You can only win.”

And you understand. For once, you understand exactly what he’s talking about.

It’s quite different from the toy he’s pushed inside you before- the warmth that radiates off of him feels as if it’s burning you, even though it’s not. He’s slick from your own arousal and his just as much- making it easy for the head of his length to push right in. The stretch however is different- it's a lot less harsh, more welcoming this time around, as you slowly move yourself to your first stop. Your legs are trembling, but not from fear- it's excitement. Anticipation.

You can only win.

You already did, didn’t you?

You rest yourself forward on top of him, your own lips now mindlessly kissing his neck, hands holding onto whatever you can get to. His own arms wrap comfortably around your back as you gently rock yourself on what little you have already fit- unbeknownst to you taking him just a little deeper each time. But all the way through this process, your head starts to spin almost- not as if you’re dizzy, no. This feeling is strange, as if your own bodyweight suddenly doesn’t matter any longer. You’re made of nothing but air, muscles having no tension, mind clear of any real thought.

Your head was never this empty and blissfull at the same time.

You don’t even realize the mark you leave in the crook of his neck, as you become a little eager- bringing yourself down on him quite a bit, drunk off of whatever this is. You decide that you want to explore this high to it’s fullest, leaving your body to the hold of his arms, relaxed in the comfort of the fact that he will take good care of it while you leave it behind.

And then, you feel it.

There’s nothing more to take, and you’re full of him- not just physically. All your thoughts include him, his name leaving your lips in a sigh. You can’t see it through your glossed over and hazy gaze, but he can-and he wants to burn this into his mind forever.

“Move, baby.”

It’s like he’s commanding your body for you instead of you making the decision to do so- and it’s an odd feeling, but not unwanted. Like you’re nothing but a spectator able to feel what’s happening, you can just lay back and let yourself be played like an instrument made by the most talented craftsmen the world has ever seen. His grip is strong, especially when he holds onto your waist, silently commanding your pace, and you can’t help but let your eyes roll back before you close them and hold onto him.

Like waves shaking your body back and forth, you’re drowning. But it’s not unpleasant, because he makes you able to breathe amongst the waters.

You don’t even realize that the slippery sounds of your bodies should be embarrassing to you- instead, you aim for more, grabbing onto some of your strings to puppeteer your body alongside him, testing if he lets you. And he does, welcoming you to play alongside him, though he’s clear on the exact song he wants you to perform this time.

You want more- but you trust that he knows what’s best for you.

“I.. I wan-” You slur, and he understands even those broken bits of language, smiling brightly as he rolls his own hips into you, pushing you towards him in the sudden movement. It makes you laugh, before you cry out in pleasure, his pace sending you over the edge-

But he doesn’t stop. And neither do you want him to.

You both part for just a moment, before he has your back against his chest, length guided inside you one more time for a better angle as his hands grip your chest. He bites this time- teeth leaving a mark on your shoulder and neck as he almost growls it sounds like, while his hips set a pace for himself, your thighs shaking from both the exhaustion and pleasure running through you, one of your legs hooked over his forearm to keep you open for him. You come undone a second time, and it feels as if it’s happening somewhere else, before he slips out- at first something you believe might be a mistake, but it’s clearly not.

It was intentional, calculated. Controlled.

The way his cock is now running through your folds with the help of your slick after he's let go of your leg is completely wiping your head clear- you can’t hear yourself whining for nothing in particular while he chases his high between your thighs, hand of yours reaching for him but the action is denied. He instead holds your wrists above your head, while the other keeps your hips close to him, body shuddering from the orgasm rushing through you-

And then, he slows down.

Slowly, the cotton wool in your ear leaves, and you get to hear the pleasure filled moans of the man behind you, the sound of his length moving through your soaked thighs and cunt, and your own breathing and heart beating. You feel the exhaustion, the way your fingertips are cold now, and yet, you don't want the control back yet.

Luckily for you, Jungkook holds you, easily. You can trust him after all.

The sight of your thighs covered in both your own release and his cum, some of it still trickling down the pulsating head poking through, is something that would’ve made you shy, days prior. It’s dirty, and something you never thought you’d find.. Romantic.

But you do. In an odd way.

“You wanna stay like this baby?” He asks, and you drunkenly nod, making him chuckle. “Alright. But only for a bit.” He gently whispers, while you try and collect yourself.

It’s like two sides of you are fighting. One is the you you’ve come to know all your life- trying to get back into control over your body and consciousness. The other is a stranger, trying to tell you it’s alright to let this be for a moment longer.

And maybe that stranger is right.

When he moves you both into the bath, water rushing in, you’re still hazy. You can barely articulate yourself, but he doesn’t seem to care about that whatsoever- nor does he look alarmed. He most likely knows exactly what’s going on with you, and manages it perfectly just like always. And even if not, you wouldn’t be able to tell anyways- nor would you really care.

A dangerous state of mind.

But you feel no fear.

You’re clinging to him during the entirety of the clean-up process, including the time he needs to set the bed again, disposing the soiled sheets and blankets in exchange for new ones. You’re attached to him the second he lays in the new blankets with you, smell of detergent and his bodywash surrounding you. And you’re even more eager for any touch and praise he sends your way, bathing in the afterglow of whatever you just experienced.

All while he’s just as much in heaven as you are.

◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is how much your muscles ache- especially your legs.

As if you’ve run a marathon, your legs feel like rubber the moment you try and turn around- but it’s also made difficult by the man and his heavy arm around your body. Jungkook is still sound asleep, softly snoring close to you as he recovers from what happened hours prior. You don’t even know why you’re awake, until you dig into your memories.

They feel like you’ve watched a movie. As if it wasn’t you who experienced it.

But it was, and whatever it was what you were feeling, you can’t help but feel intrigued by it. When you turn in his arms he moves as well- first only burying himself closer to you, before his breathing changes, and eyes open. They find yours in the dark of the room, barely illuminated by the now setting sun dipping the entire room in an orange glow.

“Hey.”

That’s all you can really think of, and it makes him laugh sleepily into your chest, causing you to giggle as well.

“Hey.” He returns. He looks cute like this.

“Go back to sleep.” You almost tease, but he shakes his head, yawns and moves a bit to properly look at you.

“How do you feel?” He questions, a hand reaching out to move the blanket back over your shoulder, before it disappears beneath it, seeking out the bare skin of your waist beneath your pajama shirt.

“Sore.” You admit. He laughs.

“I can imagine.” He sympathizes. “Proved you wrong though.” He teases, and you nod.

“I’m glad you did.”

There’s a heavy silence for a good moment, where neither of you really know what to say- and it’s only broken when he decides on the easier topic for now, something you’re glad about. “I’m sure you wonder what.. Happened to you.” He says, and you nod.

“It felt as if I was high.” You describe. “Drunk, but not feeling sick. Like.. One of those out-of-body experiences some people talk about.” You try and picture it to him, and he nods.

“It’s called Subspace.” Jungkook explains. “It’s when.. Well, a headspace a lot of submissives fall into during scenes. Especially when all the conditions align perfectly.” He tells you. “It’s one of the biggest compliments to people like me.”

“Why?” You question.

“Because it’s the ultimate display of trust.” Jungkook offers you. “You need to feel.. Relaxed, and perfectly safe and comfortable with me to be able to let go like that. Just a moment of uncertainty, and you’re unable to slip.”

“To be honest, it felt entirely out of my control.” You respond. “I don’t think I really made a conscious choice to.. Slip.” You repeat the term that he used.

“I know.” He nods. “Some can control it, others, especially new subs, can’t. They need those conditions and a good amount of guidance. And.. Their subspace is fragile, too.” He emphasizes. “One mistake from my side, and you’re falling.” He warns.

“So, I could.. Drop, like in the shower a few days ago?” You ask, and he nods.

“Yeah.” He agrees. “But it’s more complicated, because it’s harder to comfort a person who slips in a mindset where they’re not in full control of themselves. They can’t think rationally, and are more often than not scared of the person who made them drop.” He describes, and there’s an odd look in his eyes.

You’re careful with your next words. But you need to know.

“Has that.. Ever happened to you?”

He nods. You feel your heart constrict.

“It’s a truly terrible feeling.” He sighs. “I won’t sugarcoat it. It’s not forever- but in that moment, you’ll hate me. In it’s purest form.” Jungkook tells you. “I remember how much I despised Yoongi that day. It was as if I felt every negative emotion by just looking at him. But I couldn’t help it. Not until I finally snapped out of it.” He recounts the events.

“Do you still hate him?” You wonder, but he shakes his head, laughs even. It makes you feel better.

“No, absolutely not. I understand it now.” He replies. “But when you’re in that state, you’re.. Running on default settings. You’re not capable of complicated thoughts like trying to see things from another perspective. In hindsight, it wasn’t even his fault it happened. Simply bad timing.” He shrugs. “Which is why I’m so careful with you. I know you need to experience certain things- but I don’t want you to go through things you don’t have to.”

“Do you think.. That day, as bad as it was, made you a better guy at this?” You ask, and he nods.

“It did.” He agrees. “How did you feel?” He wonders, and you shift a bit to get more comfortable, before you remember your situation.

“Weightless.” You describe. “Like I was.. Just existing. It was fun- exciting, but also strangely relaxing.” You tell him.

“You looked very pretty to me, you know?” He states, and you laugh. “No, really. That look in your eyes was something I’ll never forget.”

“Jungkook?” You ask, and he nods, looking at you. “... I think I might be..” You swallow your pride for a second before you say it. “..I might be falling in love with you.”

There’s silence again.

You can hear the clock in his open kitchen faintly ticking away, the fridge buzzing. Outside the window, there’s a car honking, and a water bottle near the window cracks as the plastic bends from the temperature difference. A soft rushing sound is also there- rain, probably, being thrown against the glass of the window by the wind outside.

And then, he speaks.

“I’m glad.” He just says with the brightest smile you've ever awen on his face, while you look at him both surprised and a little confused. But he only leans forwards, and presses a gentle kiss against your lips.

“I already did.”

[revelboo]

your revel highness I lay myself at your feet as I humbly beg for shockwave crumbs 🥺

Sure!

Point of Extinction Pt 10

TFP Shockwave x Reader

• Shivering in your blanket, your head lifts when Shockwave enters his quarters. See his head turn to find you on his desk as you stand up. “Wait,” you say as he stares at you, antenna back and then turns away again. Leaving again. You don’t know if he’s sleeping in his lab now or at all. What you do know? He can’t stand to look at you anymore. Only returning to check that you’re okay and still have food and water before abandoning you again since he’d almost crushed you. “Please don’t go.”

• Stopping just inside the door to his habsuite, his antenna flick at the request and the servos of his one hand flex. Can’t stand to see that lingering fear. Can’t make himself abandon you either. “What do you require?” He asks, because you must need something. More blankets maybe? You’re always cold and you’d liked to curl up against him. And the almost nonexistent weight of you against him had settled something inside him, too. But he can’t risk touching you when he might drift, get tangled in memories he doesn’t understand. Hurt or kill you by accident and not even realize.

• You miss him, you realize as you stare at his back. He’s avoiding you and now you’re isolated, lonely, and afraid. And you don’t know what to say. Then he’s leaving and you run to the edge of the desk. “Wait! I want you to stay. Please?” Don’t leave you here alone for days or weeks more. Don’t abandon you. It’s not like you’re friends really, but he’s all you have here. Those stilted conversations and warm servos have become your world.

• Why does it hurt him the way your voice breaks? Why does he want to pick you up and cradle you to him? Try to ease your misery when he knows he’ll only hurt you again. “Thirteen is mistaken.” You don’t want him. You can’t. Most days, he doesn’t even want to be him. Besieged with ghosts and fragments of memories that hurt him, taunt him with a past that he isn’t sure of, can’t really remember. Knows something happened to him, that something’s wrong with him, but can’t remember what. No one talks about it and those fragments are sharp, hurting him.

• He’s leaving again. Dismissing you. Like he couldn’t care less and you know how cold he can be, how indifferent. But you’ve also felt him trace the tip of a servo against your cheek so gently it’s like he thinks you’ll break. “If you don’t want me anymore, why don’t you just finish it?” You snap, the words terrifying you even as you blurt them out, but you’re angry and scared. “Take me back to the lab and tear me open? It’s all I’m here for, right?” And he turns, that one optic staring at you, expression unreadable. Why did you yell at him? Backing away, heart racing as he strides toward you. Why did you push him? Frozen as he reaches, servos curling against your back, pulling you toward the edge of the desk. Unable to breathe as his knees clang to the floor then he’s leaning forward and his helm brushes against you. Holding you to him as you lay your palms against his helm. Hear his furious, ragged ‘no.’

Previous

[projectjasper]

JOONG ARCHEN AYDIN: On his first steps in the entertainment industry, how to lie to idol factories that are trying to control your weight, and his impressive resilience in the face of tragedy

Joong: Actually, I moved to Thailand when I was 16. The reason I moved was I wanted to finish school quickly so I could get a job quickly. I really wanted to grow up. I wanted to live my own life because back then I thought being an adult was great. Right? So I started working as an actor. I was actually walking around Siam and then I went to a casting and got the role.

That's really how it happened! In the early days, I participated in a fashion show and accidentally got the first place.

Aou, Santa, Pond: Oooohhhhh!!!

Joong: And then I became more confident and someone just happened to see me. I was walking around Siam, I was in the middle of Siam Square, and a person just pulled me away. They were like: "Are you interested?" I was wearing really nice clothes that day. It was an Abercrombie t-shirt and Gucci jeans.

Yeah, I borrowed them from a friend.

Anyway, I remember going to the casting. Everyone had their hair and makeup done, some already had fans. We all sat down. The line was very long, there were multiple rows. This one guy just stood up, went up to his fans, and started waving. He was saying "thank you", "thank you for your encouragement" and things like that. We were all waiting to go up to the slaughter room.

No, really, they call it "the slaughter room". There was like twelve of us. They weren't saying much, they were just kind of looking at us, and then they told ten people to leave. The only two left were me and another person. They told us: "Ok, you passed". I was asked to do this one bit and then sent home. I came back for the final round, which was like an acting round, and then I finally got to play. I got to be in a series, I became an actor. It was my first drama, I might not have played very well, but I got some fans! My followers on Instagram went from 5.000 to 500.000. So I started as an actor first but then an opportunity came up. I never thought about it before, but I did like idols, I was a fan of many groups. It was BigBang first, then BTS... When I was in Türkiye, even before coming to Thailand, I already liked them. I used to record dance videos with my siblings at home and upload them to the internet.

"Fake Love" [starts singing a little]. Yes, at the time I was obsessed with it, I really loved it. Then I got an opportunity with a Chinese company. They suggested I go to China and join a TV show contest. At the time, I was weighing my options - I was doing pretty well in Thailand, should I stay here? Eventually I decided it would be better for me to move to China. I wanted to try something new and it was an opportunity to do just that. Since I was an actor, I already had events where I sang and things like that, but I never...

Pond: Danced?

Joong: Yeah, I never danced there. Well, maybe just a little. I took only a couple of dancing lessons. Everyone else is like "oh, I've been dancing since I was a kid", but I started when I joined the contest in China. I was training for about two months and it was very stressful, because I had to study both the language and how to dance. And in comparison to the friends I was training with, I was quite inexperienced because some of them had sung and danced before, they had a solid background.

Personally, I was becoming more and more handsome at the time.

Aou: Ooooohhhhh!

Joong: Before that I was still a kid.

So, two or three months passed, we actually went to China to train there. We were meant to go on for two or three more months, then filming would start and the program would air. It was quite fun, because I got a chance to go with friends from Thailand and there were also trainees from other countries - China, Korea, Japan, it was very international. I got to know a lot of people. We were training together and it was a very warm environment. Because we were practising together, living together, waking up together, eating together.

Food was bad, it was food for trainees. Broccoli and fish, stuff like that.

Interviewer: So it wasn't tasty food, it was healthy food.

Joong: Yes, everyone on the show was on a weight control diet. We had to weigh ourselves and then report back every single day. We also had to send video clips, so they could check what we're eating. They were actually looking at our food. They were asking us about our bodies, how we "build discipline".

But hey, let me tell you. There is a trick to weighing yourself. For example, like I weigh what? 77kg or something. If I touch my finger to the wall, it becomes 75kg!

Santa & Pond: Really?????

Joong: And if you press real hard, it will be 70kg.

The food they gave us was Jian Fei food, diet food, but if you think about it, it takes a lot of energy to practice as much as we did. So I ate a lot. I ate a little in secret.

Santa: Just a little?

Joong: Yes! At the time, I was thin. But yeah, everything else was going well - the environment, the friends I made, and all that. The teachers gave me a lot of encouragement because... I was good at dancing, but when I went there, people were on another level. The guys from Japan were dancing so fiercely, the guys from China were like... wow! Some of them had been dancing since they were twelve, others had just started. I realised we are not the same at all. Like let's say there is a close up, right? I wouldn't have been able to dance as fast as my friends.

I felt really bad. Because I was giving my best, but it wasn't good enough. I couldn't remember every move. And there were people who were really good there! Let's say there was a hundred people - one outstanding person received an award from the teacher. Out of a hundred people, one would get a star. Literally. The teacher would take a star and stick it on that person. Me? I never got it! It was both discouraging and tiring. I woke up early to go training at 7 a.m., came back at 11 p.m. every day. Kind of similar to Santa.

Santa: Yeah.

Joong: But still, things were going well. And then, like three days before filming:

COVID.

Aou: Oh no...

Joong: So suddenly it's all over? Honestly, when we first heard the news going around, no one believed it. Everyone was like: "What? No way! The training has been going on for months and hundreds of people are participating, from so many different countries. How could it all just collapse?" But I went back to the dorm and got on a video call with the company. They said: "Listen, kids. The plane tickets will be arranged and then you can go back in about a month. You'll have to quarantine for around 15 days". So I was just stuck in a room for 15 days. It wasn't like I went back to Thailand and was just sitting around feeling sad. I came back to sit alone in a room and cry for 15 days. And it felt like I left everything behind in Thailand and went to China, but then I returned.

It's not just that I was sad....

Pond: But what would happen now that you were back.

Joong: I wasn't part of anything because my contract stated that if I didn't have a show, I was basically independent. I came back and everything just felt so empty. I was like: What should I do? I don't know what to do! There is no way forward. Did I have any money? No. I only had around 50.000 baht left before going to China. And I spent a lot of money there too. I don't know what I was so confident about, but I spent a lot of money. For some reason I was just so sure that somehow, no matter what, I would gain something from this whole experience. It had to have been worth it, someone had to have noticed me. That was my mindset at the time. So, I came back, COVID was happening, and then my dad died.

I have no money. My dad died. COVID.

My dad died, I can't do anything. When my mom called me, I was shooting an MV with my friends. We were supposed to shoot for three days and my mom told me dad passed away on the first day.

Pond: That's awful.

Joong: I cried the first day. I was putting on makeup, crying while putting on makeup by myself because it was a self-made project.

Interviewer: So it was a self-made project with your friends?

Joong: No, with the label. But we did everything on our own, we paid for it on our own, because we wanted to give back to all the fans supporting us in Thailand somehow. We had no shows, no songs, no nothing, so we decided to make it ourselves and pay for it ourselves. Even though we didn't have much money at the time. It was tough.

Interviewer: How did you get through it? What did you tell yourself? You were disappointed, you had no money, someone you love passed away...

Joong: The thing is, I had no one to rely on anymore. If I couldn't rely on myself, there was no one else to help me. I had to survive, my siblings had to survive. So I just fought and kept going. I had to find a way, somehow. I announced that I have no label and just started over. I told my manager at the time, who was taking care of things slowly, that if they had any work, I was prepared to take it. Or maybe I could just go out there and try to find something on my own? Because I was just sitting around doing nothing. At the time, I had this person to take care of me, right? But maybe because of COVID or something like that, they couldn't find me a job. So I thought: Should I keep going like this? If they aren't giving me anything, can I try to find something on my own? Go out there and fight by myself? So I became a freelancer. But in just two weeks, I was contacted by a label, so thankfully I didn't have to stick to freelance for long.

[gretagerwigsmuse]

this was so thorough and sweet, thanks alexa 🥰 i love how you called out that there's a lot happening under the surface! i really want the big reveal next chapter to not seem like it came out of nowhere? it was really intentional on my part that we almost exclusively get his pov on these last two chapters because i wanted to show how much he cares and loves her no matter what nasty thoughts she's having in her head? like he doesn't even finish the thought in his head when he kind of figures out what's going on? but that being said, i just hadddd to include her pov at the end to kind of turn the knife and crank up the angst. but on a lighter note, yes! i wanted to include some regular, old domestic moments between the two of them. i always think about the post "oh they love each other. well do they like each other?" and try to make sure that comes across? like they talk too? it's not all crazy sex and empty platitudes? they love and like each other 🥰 more below 💕

Out of his plane, out of the sky, out of your arms. Falling and falling - with no end in sight. -- oh the visual of this right off the bat! But I love it especially for the duality of Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw. His center of being has always been in relation to him in the Navy, but now he also has her. It’s all so entwined in a way it hasn’t ever been for him before, but with both he isn’t in control. Like doing what he loves could take him from her literally in the sense of the worst case scenario, but also she could decide it’s too hard. But also doing what he loves takes him from who he loves! And you know I love an angsty deployment bit, but there’s a lot of interesting layers here with his anxiety dreams. I also just thought it was very pretty prose! the navy was the only constant thing bradley's had in his life for the longestttt time, but now he has her as his center and maverick and penny and amelia and nat and this entire community orbiting around it? and the navy is just...there now? i can see him getting more resentful and then hating himself for getting resentful because he loves flying, but he doesn't like that he has to do it for someone else? and i've actually had a lot of thoughts lately about doing some sort of deep introspection in the next chapter about how hard it really was for her while he was gone? we get a glimpse of it in this and the last two chapters, but i think she really got to a dark place because her center was gone?

Bradley liked to think that you had stowed it away someplace and changed downstairs in order to surprise him in bed. Except now he’d never know because he had fallen asleep on you. God, he was the worst boyfriend. — she’s a planner, that one! Of course she was 3 steps ahead! But he’s also so sweet for even sulking about accidentally derailing her plans because he was sleepy and happy. Like I think she’ll forgive you, she’s did booze you up after all, lmao it's so funny to me that she got him a little too drunk like what else was he supposed to do with a full belly, a cozy bed, and some drinks haha? but like yeah you just have to give her some compliments/praise her and she'll forgive you buddy lol

But this was supposed to have been a big deal. It was the first time you both went to bed in the same room without the fear that you’d be leaving in the morning or later in the week to go back to your highrise. You were both home. Really, truly home. — H O M E!! Oh my favorite concept!! But they live together now, he wanted it to be as special for her too! He wants her home to be with him! WE LOVE THE CONCEPT OF HOME! but you know that sweet boy had fantasies of carrying her over the threshold of the house "for the first time" 🤭

You kept him on the ground. You kept him safe. — that future!! That future is his purpose!! IT'S JUST MY JOB FIVE DAYS A WEEK

Bradley wanted to treat you like you were precious first. — sweetest boy! It’s like of course they’ve both thought about it (and reread a certain email) a bunch, but I love that for as much as he wants to just have his way with her, like he wants to have sex that matters first. Like they can fuck whenever, but he hasn’t been with his best girl in MONTHS, he wants to show her how much he has missed her and how much he cares about her first! he wants to stare into her eyes and let her know how much she matters and how perfect she is to him (even if she doesn't think so). like soft and slow and close

But later? He’d slap your pussy so hard you’d be begging for his cock in no time - in fact, maybe he should time you? See how long it took you to break, to babble, to beg. — IF I SPEAK (so I won’t but good god) 🫡🫡🫡 sometimes i'm like girl get UPPE!!!

He slipped his hand down to knead your ass and you sighed. “Hmm, da-dley? Bubba?” ^^^ the daddy agenda is alive and well, next stop daddy watch me twirl! god they both want it So Badly and they both have the conscious thought of wanting it next chapter. i always picture that fic happening around their true one year anniversary? like mid april? and she's so whinyyyyyy and pathetic thinking it next chapter

You had somehow gotten even more beautiful in the three months he had been gone. It wasn’t obvious, not at first, and not to anyone who wasn’t really paying attention. But it was obvious to Bradley because Bradley always paid attention.— “because Bradley always paid attention” 🥰🥰🥰 but also i'm just so soft over how much he's imprinted her on his mind. Like he's studied her so intently over their courtship so far that he's documenting every little essence of change he sees. THEIR COURTSHIP!!!! i'm obsessed with that, but it's TRUE! someone commented that in other fics in the series it's obvious how much she loves him, but this is the first fic where they realized that he loves her just as much if not more and i think it's in little scenes like this?

“You gonna take these off, too?” He slipped a finger under the waistband of his joggers. — WHORE SLUT TEASE (the way he later arches his back?! I repeat, WHORE SLUT TEASE) he's such a slut like honestly he always knows what he's doing with her (like later when he comes back from his run with his shirt off 🤭)

“Fuck,” he sighed in relief, “How’d you let me sleep in those?” //“How’d you fall asleep on me?”//“You got me drunk!” //“Not my fault you’re suddenly a lightweight - Bradley!” -- this made me G I G G L E! Mr Zero Tolerance got hammered off one drink and in his happy tipsy content state took an little nap. Like it's so old man of him, but also so cute. Like he truly at ease for the first time since he left! Like sure we love a welcome home fuck (like it's coming! (no pun intended) and i remember saying something in the last chapter, but I love that the emotional intimacy comes first! But their banter here amused me to no end, like yes babe roast him in your cute navy nightie that you put on just for him that he missed out on because he was catching up on his REM! off one drink lol no no no she PLIED him with alcohol all night, he's on at least drink four after barely subscribing for 3 months (i learned us navy officers can get a beer at dinner or something, but aus officers can get like 3 or something crazy). but i worried that they talk too much beforehand so i'm glad you liked the levity here and the gradual emotional intimacy too!

Every new freckle, scar, bruise, age line//Bradley couldn’t wait to do the same. What had he missed? What was different?-- It's just so soft!! They're both trying to see and catch up on what they've missed in the last 90ish days! It's such a lovely moment of true connection! Like they're just both absorbing each other and reveling in being together! Not through a screen but inches a part! In their home! in their bed! and she's desperately praying that he doesn't notice anything different? that he doesn't notice she's a little rounder in the stomach? but the thing is that he notices everything 'because bradley always paid attention' and doesn't necessarily notice anything that's 'different' to him because that doesn't really matter? idk if that makes sense

“You’re so handsome,” you whispered, almost to yourself. //Bradley kissed you and returned the compliment. “And you’ve gotten even more beautiful since I’ve been gone.” -- stoooooop i'm already so soft! enoughhhhhh I cannot take it! i'm no strong enough for this! but she doesn't think so 🥺

You loved his shoulders, you always managed to notch your head there during sex and press little kisses to the scars dotting them and his neck. Bites, too - marks to prove he was yours.— artist rendering of my face 🤭 yes yes yes yes! the shoulders! his pretty scar! his pretty neck!! you know those make me weak in the knees!! but also the possessiveness of it! like HE IS HERS! HIS NECK! HIS BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL NECK (thank you phoebe waller-bridge) but i think he desire to mark him up does come from her wanting people to see he's hers? like that bit in the gala fic where she wants people to see they 'fit?' she wants people to know that they're a pair, they're each other's?

He also told Nat. However, the latter was only because he was drunk and pissed and he had just made lieutenant, once again surpassing his father in something.//Maverick had seen it about a year ago. He had never asked Bradley what it meant and probably never wanted to have it confirmed what it meant. But to anyone who really knew Bradley, it was easy to put together.//Bradley had told you about it on your fourth date. — different right from the start-- i looooooooved the dynamics of this! like the list of people who knew and the hows of how they came to learn about it and then contrasted with how easily he opened up and shared it with her!! like he WANTED to tell her, he WANTED to let her in!! it's DIFFERENT! they're kindred! yes! like he wanted to tell her, it was intentional and deliberate and he could finally tell someone who would really care and could maybe understand? like she could tell him about her mom and all that fucking shit with teddy too like they knew early this was it and they'd do anything to make sure it happened

(you, in particular, were freaked out that you’d slept with someone on the first date without a condom)— listen, who could blame her? I mean, look at him!  (she let him finger her right outside of the hard deck too, but like 💁🏼‍♀️) please it's so fucking funny in hindsight like she calls her concierge doctor up monday morning and is like I NEED AN STD TEST!!! but also like per your crossed out comment, bradley has a line that's like 'you were both desperate, but you more than him' or something and like that's the root of their sexual relationship and neither of them ever forget that lol

listening to Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G Major and Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 was made all the more romantic by the way Bradley held your hand for the entire first piece and had his hand on your thigh for the entire second.-- I loveeee that we got more BB&SA lore here!! Like I just know he got all dressed up for it too, broke out the iron and everything! But also the hand and the thigh of it all is A LOT!! and I am swooooning if you must know, it was a navy suit and a white shirt with tan shoes and a tan belt. there were flowers and everything. he paid for dinner and she lied and said she got the concert tickets for free from work since pwc sponsors the symphony but she bought them lol

Bradley had told you what the tattoo meant and about his parents and Maverick and you had told him about your mom and your accident during your junior year of high school. — 🥺🥺🥺 my sweet babies. i am too delicate for this! the perks of being in the inner circle- I Know 🥰, but also the trials and tribulations of being in the inner circle- I KNOW 😭 i feel like bradley's very much of the 'i'm too old for this shit' camp in terms of playing 'games'/keeping things from his partners that he really sees things going somewhere with? like why would i keep this from her when we can really talk about it and then we know how to navigate these problems when they come up? and then for her, i feel like when she was like 12 or something mary was like 'dan we need to get this girl in therapy' lol so she's familiar with talking about these things and knowing it's important to give up a little of yourself to really be free of the darkness?

It hadn’t felt scary to tell you any of it. It felt right and natural. Like you wouldn’t judge him or get scared when things got hard. Like he wanted to protect you at all costs. ^^ I AM TOO DELICATE I just love how easy it is between them! Like they WANT to get deep and share those moments. They want to be SEEN entirely! There’s safety in that because they see themselves reflected in each other and I think that’s so lovely! THEY WANT TO BE SEEN ENTIRELY! whatever our souls are made of his and mine are the same or however that goes! like i know i wrote it this way and all but i really do think they're made for each other

“And I though to myself this is what Bradley sees. This is why he loves it and for that brief blip in time I got it. I understood. Makes me love you even more in some way.” — 😭😭😭 idk if you remember but i totally stole that plane moment from myself when i was going to london fall 2023 because i was so taken aback by seeing all the stars and was like he's in the middle of the pacific and they do night flights for training, he absolutely sees this and more and it just seemed kind of poetic that they'd both be in the middle of the ocean looking at the same sky?

An idea suddenly struck Bradley. It was amazing he hadn’t thought of it before. “Maybe I can make you an audiobook?”— good lord I’d never get anything done ever again no seriously like i would have it on like a daily podcast. but he would absolutely do this for her and she'd find so much comfort in it because they can talk to each other, sure. but they can't do this and fall into their d/s roles while the navy's listening? it's different than when she goes away or when he's up at lemoore or oceana, like they can't really Talk in the way they both need when he's on a carrier in the middle of the pacific

“‘Atta girl, arch your back, just like that.” You whimpered at his praise and kept rocking your hips in tandem with his fingers. Fucking glorious, such a good girl for da -“ — here we go, round two!! I stay winning with the almost daddy agenda! he wants to say it so badly like if only you knew buddy

All you had to do was pout and he was gone. — S I M P 🥰 he'd do anything for her, all she has to do is ask

However, he’d already let your tender touches go on long enough - another minute and he’d come all over that silk nightie you hadn’t taken off yet.— listen I know that man is dying to give her another kind of pearl necklace 💁🏼‍♀️ it would go well with that frilly little apron he thought about earlier 🤭

Thank god he had prepped you, he wasn’t going to last much longer, himself. It was kind of pathetic. Both of you were, to be frank. Obviously, you more than him in this instance, but - -lmaoooooo. forever giggling when he calls himself pathetic, like mr man is gone for his girl! and he's only had his hand in a twin sized bunk for the last 3 months, like he's not going to make it out alive if he tries to go for gold right off the bat! but also she's just as needy and desperate as him, so this whole bit is as funny as it is H O T THE ONE HANDED FODDER!!! but seriously yeah she's way more desperate, like bradley may be hanging on by a thread, but her thread has disintegrated two weeks ago

“My best girl, huh?”— 🥰🥰 *tucks hair behind ear* i mean if you say so 💁🏼‍♀️

“So beautiful, so smart. Took such good care of things for me, huh?” He could feel as well as hear your breath hitching, letting him know that you were close. “‘gorgeous girl, so proud of you, sweet g -”// And that did it. —AHH!! AND THAT DID IT YEAH IT DID!!! GOOD GIRL SWEET GIRL GORGEOUS GIRL ALL THEE ABOVE THE SWEET GIRL AGENDA LIVES ON! all miss girl needs is to be praised and she's putty

God, it was beautiful. You were beautiful. Your name kept running through his mind and Bradley realized he was actually muttering it against your lips through kisses.— smutty and hot and the care!! it love that he's kind of losing his mind here, but at the root it's just all about her and how wrapped up she has him. like her [redacted]ing (it's just too much for me to type out lmao) and he's like SHE'S ART! I'M MOVED! PUT HER IN THE LOUVRE! he's so enraptured by her and I love that for her! WITH A BODY LIKE APHRODITE??!!? he's obsessed with her. she's normally the one to babble, but he does it too

And then, with all the care and love you deserved at the moment, he bundled you up in his arms. You were so warm and smelled so pretty and your nightie felt so soft against his rough fingers. Everything about that moment was perfect. You were so precious. You pressed your cheek against his chest and he hoped you could tell how fast his heart was beating. -- SHE'S SO SOFT FOR HIM!! It's like the first time in his life he gets to have that with someone, who in her own way treats him with all the care and the love and the softness he deserves after being on his own for so long! I love how mutual it is between the two of them. Like they give as good as they get in all things. But especially knowing what we know about her and where she is, like he wants her to know how valued and loved she is. like they trust each other so much? they would both sacrifice themselves for the other and that's kind of scary? but it's true? they're just too soft for all of it

Bradley groaned your name. You peered up at him with those wide, innocent eyes like you weren’t getting him off while he slept. Like your pussy wasn’t soaking. Like you hadn’t been grinding it against his bare thigh for the last however many minutes. — cheeky little go getter! girl has been waiting to get him in her mouth for monthsssss

He just shook his head in disbelief. “Cheeky little slut.” //And then you smiled, looking so proud of yourself for rattling him that he had no choice but to slap the top of your ass. Hard. You huffed.-- lmaooooooo, she's got his number! SHE JUST WANTS HIM TO BE PROUD OF HER! SHE WANTS THE PRAAAAAISE

The room was filled with giggles and the sounds of kissing as Bradley told you some of the more entertaining stories from the carrier and Australia, while you revealed that you had watched his 60 Minutes segment at least nine times. When he asked you why you’d watched it nine times, you just ducked your head and bashfully said it was because you sounded really smart.-- HE'S PRETTY AND SMART FOLKS AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT god he really is so hot and smart and i know he looked so good on tv. it's like that scene in ted lasso when keeley gets off to roy's retirement press conference

And he had run you pretty ragged this morning. — when will it be me??!! i fear it never will be me!

“Oh! I guess I hadn’t noticed.” You turned your back to him. “Here, do you want to do my hair? Or I can do yours? Why don’t I do yours?”—🥺🥺🥺 I just know that his observation is going to be living in her head rent free. The way she is trying to divert the attention in a different direction hurts my heart! he's like MORE SOAPY TITS TO ADMIRE 🤩 and she just has every mean, self critical thought running through her head on loop and it's OOF. she's like thank god i got all those one piece bathing suits and bradley's like fuck how did she get hotter??? he has a couple comments like this that if they were on the same page totally wouldn't be an issue/are kind of innocuous? but now that we know how she's feeling with the last passage in this chapter, it's like shittttttt yeah i can see how she'd read that wrong? and then she turns around so he can't really see her? and then the lights???

You hummed. “Just a little bump out, enough for someone to sit. You’re getting older, I wouldn’t want you to fall or hurt yourself during any rigorous shower activity.”-- ROAST HIM no but like imagine them in the shower and he doesn't have to worry about being too careful that she doesn't fall? feral

“I haven’t stayed here at the house too much while you were gone, just a night or two - like that night…with the email,” you confessed, “it didn’t feel right. I kept thinking you’d come home any minute.” Bradley pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “But I’d drop stuff off slowly, a couple boxes a week and whatnot.”-- SWEET GIRL!! She missed him too much to be there alone?!! why are you trying to hurt me like this?! in my delicate state?! jordannnnnnnn see this i was what i mentioned earlier about really getting some introspection into what she was going through? like i can just picture her being in the house alone and crying and not wanting to get out of bed because 'maybe if i stay in bed i can pretend that bradley's coming home late?' i wanna do more with that

And then, after multiple passes over your breasts at Bradley’s hands - it was unfair how good your breasts looked all sudsed up— his true kryptonite 😂😂 he's a simple man! lololol sometimes he really doesn't need a lot lol. and she's never telling him how she took that soapy titties pic haha like that's going to the grave

But there was something about you choosing an oxford to wear after staring at your closet for ten minutes that gave him pause. You had such pretty clothes, it would be a shame for you not to wear them.— bestie babe 🥺🥺 it’s so sad seeing her so unsure of herself and unsettled in her own skin and like he has that internal thought 'you had such pretty clothes, it would be a shame for you not to wear them' in this part and then next chapter he actually verbalizes it and does something about it??? gonna jump

The two sat across from each other - Maverick on one of the cushioned, wicker swivel chairs with Bradley on the matching loveseat - and sipped their beers in comfortable silence for a few moments.— I love how comfortable they are now, the past is the past. Now he’s picking him up from school [read: work] and getting him ice cream and they’re able to just be. that's his FATHER!!!!!! like? i get really emotional thinking about them reconnecting and just being comfortable with each other again?

“So, how’re you really doing?” Though the question has been asked at dinner already, Bradley had just given a vague answer. But now that it was just him and Maverick, he felt he could be honest.— THAT’S HIS DADDDDDDDDDD and he can tell his dad everything again!!!!

It hadn’t been quiet in three months. There was always something else going on around him. But not tomorrow. Tomorrow, he could do things on his own time and make his own food and pick his own clothes. He could have choices. — oh this bit got me so good! it hurt in the best way! he gets to be bradley again! not just rooster. not having to follow a schedule, follow commands. He gets to settle back into himself! i just kept thinking that it must be so jarring to be back to just nothingness? the end scenes in the hurt locker were a huge inspiration

The fact that Bradley thought you were keeping something else from him didn’t need to be brought up yet. He wouldn’t even be able to put it into words, it was just a gut feeling at this point. You just seemed a little off. The egg whites, the boxy oxfords, the chocolate cake.— I texted you a bit about this, but I love how even in this reunion honeymoon bubble, that he knows her so innately that he can sense something is off. That he has always been so in tune with her and paid attention to even the littlest things, that even if he can't pinpoint it right then and there that he knows something is up. That he has enough crumbs to make a sandwich, each tidbit had been filed away until he had enough to realize she has a bit of a facade up with him. And the dichotomy of that compared with how easily they shared their big hurts on the 4th date, where she's worried about losing him with all the insecurities rattling in her head when all he wants is more and everything. yeah like he frequently knows things about her before she even does? because bradley always paid attention! i think a lot of her not sharing this is because she thinks it's silly in comparison?

“And you’re okay with that?” Bradley nodded. “Jesus, Bradley, you’ll be at least forty by the time -”//“- Forty-two.” -- this part took me out at the KNEES!!! like even mav (that's his dad that's his dad) knows that bradley is holding himself back with that one. that he so clearly wants a family but his own fears of leaving them behind make it so he'd rather put it off longer to ensure that doesn't happen than risk letting his worst fear come to pass. but that it so clearly weighs on bradley too! the way he so easily drops that "forty-two" because he's thought about it so intently! OOF and DOUBLE OOF i'm glad you liked this part so much and it hit so hard because i wanted it to be obvious that this waiting thing isn't easy for either of them, but they really need to do it because they're both so scared? and like if anyone would get it, it would be maverick? maverick who knows why bradley has that tattoo without ever asking about it?

Maverick looked sad and Bradley hated it. Because he knew, without Bradley even having to spell it out why you were going to wait. Because Maverick had been there. Because Maverick had held Bradley’s mom as she cried on too many occasions to count. Because Maverick had taken Bradley to all the father/son events in the place of his own father. Because Bradley realized, as he had gotten older, that Maverick thought it was his fault that Bradley grew up without a father.-- NOT THE FATHER/SON EVENTS! I AM TOO DELICATEEEEE!!! AND THE MAV GUILT! but also my sweet boy thinking that time was out of guilt and as penance vs it being for him hurts my heart! and i think bradley didn't even realize that until he got older and was properly in the navy? and bradley loves maverick but he doesn't want his kids to have their own maverick? he just wants them to have a papa mav?

“If it gives either of us the slightest peace of mind, we’re going to try and wait.”-- sweet boy nooooooo, have your dream life! you deserve it! you both do! like they don't want this with anyone else, but when it happens they just want it to actually be the two of them making the decision? the us navy is not involved because i really think it would kill both of them to do any of it alone? except well...bradley's 40 when gil's born...and they're both so scared. i think that's bradley's ptsd that he didn't realize he had until now(ish)?

“What’re you ladies gossiping about?” Amelia breezed onto the patio and messed up Bradley’s hair before she plopped down on the other end of the sofa— I love that Bradley [36] now has a teenaged pseudo little sister 😂 like yes, roast that man. But also it’s so cute because it’s like he has another chance at a family! he's got a 'bratty' little sister! and he brings her to field hockey practice and games when mav and penny can't! he goes to symphony orchestra concerts! (amelia plays the cello)

He liked Amelia, he was protective of her, fucking shoot him.--1) i love this, like that's his pseudo step-sister, but also 2) lolololol he's so funny here. So huffy and defensive! that's his family goddamnit! he's like yeah okay i like a fourteen year old, she's my family, deal with it! but i think it's kind of a thing where bradley obviously didn't have any siblings and this is kind of his chance? and then ofc when mavericks [reacteds] bradley, amelia also gets [redacted].

“Debate team?!” Alright, now he was putting it on a little bit, but as someone who had also been on the debate team in high school, Bradley knew that those guys were also smart, which generally meant they were way more trouble than the typical jocks.- G I G G L I N G. he was 10000% a menace against society and you just know he lost some color in his face. he's like fuck is this gonna be what it's like when i have kids??

“The 1990s!” Amelia feigned hysterics and got a chuckle out of you and Maverick.- pllllllssssss (making me feel old too, the audacity, lol) you know i had to sneak a 9/11 mention in there too

Can you ask her where she got her sneakers? A couple weeks later, you and Bradley had gotten Amelia the very same sneakers for her birthday. She always blushed when you wore them at the same time.— golden goose? i was between that or pink addidas sambas haha but the gg are so funny because bradley would have no idea how much those cost and would be like wow thanks for picking that up, how much do i owe you? and she's like....$50

But god, he really fucking hated Teddy Cavanaugh. He wanted to fucking deck him on the first tee at Claremont Country Club. He wanted to slam his nine-iron into the Porsche 911 he was driving. And Bradley was pretty sure your dad did too. — ME THREE I FUCKING HATE THAT GUY we all hate teddy cavanaugh (last name is absolutely not inspired by a certain supreme court justice...)

You were Amelia. You had been that young, that sweet, that trusting and Teddy Cavanaugh had thrown it all back in your face.-- this got me when you sent it to me early on and it still gets me now. like him having someone he knows and cares about who is close in age to her when that accident happened just really puts things into perspective in a too real and unsettling way! she was just a girl! like it's one thing to be told something awful like that but another to be confronted with a visual of sorts? and when he goes to her house for thanksgiving and sees pics of her growing up and in high school he's like ho-ly shit she was so young? how could he have done this?

Everything was right as it should be. Bradley was with his family, Bradley was with you, here. Not on a carrier in the middle of the Pacific or the passenger seat of Mr. Cavanaugh’s Porsche. //Here. And nothing bad was going to happen here. -- sweet bean is trying to ground himself. 🥺 that little spiral of realization really hits him in a way he wasn't expecting. that's his FAMILYYYYYYYY i think he spirals a lot actually? and always has to do that 'five things' thing with anxiety attacks? and her and his family are like one of the only things that can always ground him?

“I’ve got one in the mudroom if -” //“No, it’s fine,” Bradley cut off Maverick, “she can have mine.”//Quickly taking off his own sweatshirt and putting it over your head, Bradley didn’t even have the time to linger on how pathetic he sounded. -- 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 pls he's so fucking funny like his dramatic ass

Who did Maverick think he was, offering to let Bradley’s girlfriend borrow a sweatshirt?- lmao I mean the audacity /s. her little crush is endlessly amusing to me, and how huffy and grumpy he is about it is so fucking funny, like NO DAD STOP MAKING MY GIRLFRIEND FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU SHE'S MINE lolololol and the thing is bradley will neverrrrr confront her about it? because he just knows she'd be so embarrassed since she doesn't even really realize it?

Little shit gave Bradley the worst one, even knowing Maverick wouldn’t have any and therefore didn’t need one. As payback, he kept putting his marshmallow wherever Amelia’s was. It meant that he didn’t roast a single good marshmallow, but the glare she kept sending him was too funny to make him stop. — not the almost 40 year old beefing with the teenager 😂 pls it’s so funny he's so huffy and such a drama queen i love him

[image: Mr. 7.5 Gs]- AHAAHAHHAAHAHAHAH listen.....

Jerking off, I’m bored— P L E A S E 😂😂😂 like at the end of the day he's still a guy

charming- the way I cackled she's like so unamused and then like a switch is turned off inside her lol

this is so hot //unless i get fired— wheezing (she’s so real for this). like genuinely, this got such a chuckle out of me because I felt like i heard it in her voice. that little aside took it out of me! like she's still Her at the end of the day haha

[Sent with Siri]— the way he’s been outed. Mr Man is Hands Free Texting because he’s BUSY and then SHE switches over to it?!?! jail

At one point, Bradley had even contemplated that you might be pregnant. He had been gone for three months, an entire first trimester. But something about the theory didn’t sit right with him.— cruel of you to put this in here knowing what I know!! have you no consideration for my poor nerves?! i love how he rationalizes how it can't be that though? like he knowwwwws but he still has to do his due diligence

Because Bradley wasn’t dying in an F-18 with a family at home. --OOF this was such a moment in that earlier fic, I'm really happy to see it here again even if it does feel like a suckerpunch! i imagine he thinks this when he's flying and it's kind of scary? and he's on his perch? like i think it really fucks with his head and he hears it in either his mom or dad or maverick's voice?

Then, there was the fact that you had an IUD and the possibility of getting pregnant on an IUD was even less than on the pill (<1% a year - he’d looked it up). -- the fact he googled it is 1) HOT and 2) amusing as fuck lmao he's very thorough! he also looked up audio book ideas on reddit!

Was there a hint in one of your emails? Some little detail he had glossed over in his haste to read any scrap of news from you, in your voice? Bradley had read all of them at least three times, some even more, but maybe he had missed something?— like he is so smart but so dumb? i mean, that even in the emails he absolutely just didn't even entertain the thought of it, and how he can't fathom how she wouldn't see herself the way he does so he's totally blind to it. And it's all right there in the emails he's read at least three times! he thinks so much of her, and for everything that she is- smart, witty, pretty, amazing, etc- like the confidence is a hard won trait for her. it's there, but it has to be worked at. but also, how can he know if she doesn't tell him 👀 he's sooooo close! and he kind of gets there but doesn't let the thought fully form even in his own mind? and i think that even though we know it's there, she didn't even really realize she was putting it out there? like not in the way she really is thinking? it's there and not? idk if that makes sense

Bradley grabbed a bottle of Pellegrino from the side door and poured himself a glass. - 😂😂🤭🤭 her influence like i just know he hated it at first

No way. No fucking way. That could not be it.//No, no. You couldn’t be worried about how - i really am so enamoured by how adamant he is about this. like the thought of her feeling insecure or not enough for him is like a 404 error in his brain, because he is just so into her! like he really can't compute it? it's never crossed his mind? like i said earlier, he clearly knows her body has changed, but it's not in a way that really bares notice to him?

“Sorry, I uhh - yeah, it was fine. Saw the Thompsons finished their patio - is that a new dress?” — he's a regular shakespeare. such a stunning way with words, lmao i wanted to make him kind of cute and nervous here? like he's trying to be cool, but he's so charmed by her still?

Knowing you, his spoiled, prissy girlfriend, the dress was probably expensive. Good.-- the "good" sent me into orbit 😂 i'm really gonna lean into this going forward lol

It was technically a lie; he had texted you, but it had been a do you know where my Theragun is text, not a show me your pussy right now text. -- P L S, definitely not beating those old man allegations now are you bradshaw? he's so funny lol

Which really put a damper on a portion of your wine cellar escapades. -- 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 rip to another pair of tights only time mary harris has been embarrassed around them

God, you were beautiful. You both were beautiful. This was beautiful. Being together like this was beautiful. It was wet and loud and messy, but it was beautiful. -- just casually swooning sighhhh i'm so jealous of this

Bradley picked his head up from where it was buried in your neck and leveled you with a look that had you properly bursting into laughter. He wanted to make some smart comment, something cheeky, but the gorgeous smile on your face had him losing his feigned stoicism and he started laughing right alongside you. -- sex should be fun! there should be giggling and grins and fun! I loved this moment because it shows the friendship too! like they're in love but they still have fun with each other and can laugh and be light! (even after hot need you now sex on the table!) they like and love each other and it's my favorite thing to see! okay yay because that was exactly what i was going for! like this whole exchange is kind of crazy and different for them? like she can't believe they just did that and then when he joins in they absolutely lose it? like it's just...it's very them? and sweet and normal

nothing but the sun, sea, sustenance, sleep, and sex. -- chefs kiss alliteration right here, loved it i felt like you with this line!

“Can I come?” he asked, completely ignoring the sunscreen comment. It wasn’t special per se, it was just high SPF since he burned easily. — golden retriever boyfriend of him but also that man is coming home pink cheeked stop he's so cute isn't he? like don't leave my sight!

You were pouting now and it only made him want to get you the necklace more. “It’s too expensive for something like that; I looked it up online.”-- that's so funny that the pout makes him want to give it to her even more. like of course she'd look it up, but that he knows his girl who likes nice expensive things gets all bashful when he buys it for her vs when she gets it for herself, like he knows she doesn't expect it from him and that makes him want to spoil her more! it's cute. no you're 1000% right because she would buy it for herself without a second thought. and i think i've said this before, but one of the only things they fight about in the lead up to their marriage/signing their prenup is money because they have such different relationships with it? he wants to spoil her and she's like i'm already spoiled

“Woah, woah.” Bradley held his hands up and you grabbed one to examine it. “Since when am I getting my nails done?”//“You’re getting a pedicure at the very least. I don’t want to have to look at your weird feet on the beach all week.” -- that she grabs it and is checking out those cuticles made me laugh, it thought it was so funny. like you're getting those nails buffed sir. it's for your own good. (and the pedicure is for the good of all humankind, lets be real.) plsssss i loved this part, like it's so funny and just shows how they kind of bust each other/interact in such an easy way? idk it's a lot of pathos to put onto a scene of her grabbing his hand but idk let me live! and yeah boys should get pedicures more often (he's fruity so it's doubly allowed)

If pressed, he would say it was because he wanted to sit in the massage chair and the nail tech told him he could only sit in the chair if he was getting his nails done. That was the only reason why. It wasn’t because of how pretty you looked while you were smiling at him out of the corner of his eye, like you couldn’t believe he was really there.//absolutely not.-- mmmhmm sure sure sure 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 ENAMORED! he's enamored with her. like they can't look at each other enough like they're scared the other is going to disappear. (also the fact that she finds a completely new salon in their new neighborhood just feels really official and intentional of her in a really small/almost blase way?)

You giggled and then mimicked his pose on the bed, except you made sure to snuggle up next to him, all earlier awkwardness gone. “I’d do anything for you actually.”-- this was so sweet. she's so sincere about it too, even in the cheekiness of mirroring him. AND SHE WOULD! like if she had any inkling it would make him happy, she'd do anything for bradley

“You’re not gonna get sick of me, right?”//You shook your head. “Never, even if you are a nerd who gets pedicures -”-- why are they just the cutest?! 😭 and the little high five too?!? ugh i love them

Because you hadn’t been prepared for how it made you feel in comparison. Because he was so strong and fit and beautiful - and you didn’t think you were any of those things. Not anymore at least. Not after what happened.-- oh that surprise of her POV at the end, and getting just a little peek into her brain after this chapter being mostly from his! and to see just how low she feels, when she should be cruising on a high of having the love of her life back and about to go on a dream vacation with him! like it just makes me ache! because for all that time she hasn't been able to shake those feelings and insecurities and she's trying to put on a good front and a show. it just makes me so sad for her! HA i was kind of giddy keeping this from you lol like she knows she should be so happy and excited, but she just can't let this go yet?

You should have taken your mother’s words to heart at lunch two weeks ago when she had told you to watch your figure, boys like Bradley are used to certain standards. --i hope almond mom gets salmonella in her next tub of nutbutter. Miss Ma'am blew all of Bradley's standards out of the water, she's where the bar is set! HAHAHA mrs eat pray love is just bitter mr smart aleck really reallyyyy hit big after their divorce so she doesn't get any of it lol

Maybe you should have worn a cute little sundress and forgotten your underwear or some other ridiculous thing? Let him fuck you in the back of the car right in the middle of the parking lot?//That wasn’t you, though. That wasn’t either of you.-- i know you know i know you know i know. But also, she's so in her own head that she doesn't even realize that that reunion was everything he wanted! her! in their home! in their bed! they don't know that we know they know we know! like you know?

But Bradley loved you. He had told you in about 159 different ways (re. emails) while he was gone. He loved you, he wanted you, he was going to live with you, build a life with you. You knew he loved you no matter what you looked like. --159 DIFFERENT WAYS! IF HE WANTED TO HE WOULD AND HE DID AND HE DOES! I can't wait for her to come back into her own again! i just want to hug her and tell her everything is going to be ok! i know we want to shake him and be like confront her now! tell her now! but i really think he's smart in being like i'm giving her a deadline to tell me (because he knows she will) and she has to actually tell me since it has to be her decision to get back to herself? like he can help to do some of the work, but she needs to do the real heavy lifting? because 159 emails between the two of them just tells me they know each other really well and love each other

oh this chapter had so much going for it! but the building woven in with the domestic moments and smutty goodness was so well done! i loved every bit of this! you knocked it out of the park! i cannot wait for mexicooooo! good thing my passport is up to date, i'm readyyyy! - i'm going full white lotus and am so excited 💁🏼‍♀️

rocketman: part iii - Some things Cosmic

Summary: finally back home, bradley can focus on all the things he's missed while he's been gone. there's someone there to properly welcome him home, frantic reunion sex, prepping for an amazing vacation, family dinners, and the casual intimacy he's come to love between the two of you. but there's still something up with you and he can't quite figure it out. it'll be fine, right? catch up with [part 1] and [part 2]

OR sex, s'mores, and secrets

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 18.5k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, body insecurity, suggestive dialogue, suggestive content, and sexual content (oral (f + m receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v, dom/sub influence, and praise, rank, and degradation kink). also on ao3!

i want to be naked, i don’t mean my body, i don’t need my body i’m floating away

Bradley startled awake sometime later. It happened sometimes. He had these dreams were it felt like he was falling. Out of his plane, out of the sky, out of your arms. Falling and falling - with no end in sight. 

That wasn’t to say that they were necessarily nightmares or anything. (Because the distinction between the two was glaringly obvious.) 

They just unnerved him a bit. Left him unsettled, untethered. 

He rolled over and stretched his arm out across the bed, until his fingers brushed against something silky. Something warm and silky. He turned his head to find you sprawled out next to him.

You had changed between now and when Bradley had last seen you - he glanced at the clock on his nightstand - seven hours ago. 

Fuck. 

He had fallen asleep before you had even gotten upstairs. 

Goddammit, he felt like an asshole. He rubbed his hands over his face, sighing. This was the last thing he had wanted to happen, especially after what you two talked about earlier that evening. 

You’d give us your wild? Of course. Of course, of course, of course he would. 

Like you knew he was thinking about you, you shifted your hips, inching closer towards him. Your body was only half under the thick duvet cover and top sheet, so even in the early morning light he could still see the navy nightie you were wearing. 

Bradley liked to think that you had stowed it away someplace and changed downstairs in order to surprise him in bed. Except now he’d never know because he had fallen asleep on you. God, he was the worst boyfriend. 

Tonight, the night three months in the making, he had missed cuddling and kissing and all the best parts of getting cozy in bed with you because he had fallen asleep before you had even gotten upstairs. And sure, he had gotten a taste of what was to come on the couch while you laid underneath him and drew imaginary shapes across his chest with your finger and he held you tight and counted your heartbeats. 

But this was supposed to have been a big deal. It was the first time you both went to bed in the same room without the fear that you’d be leaving in the morning or later in the week to go back to your highrise. You were both home. Really, truly home. 

Home - where he could finally wake up next to you and have you be right here - not an ocean apart. Bradley already dreaded the next time he’d have to leave you. 

There was a future with you. There was that little boy - or little girl - from your dream. The perfect mix of you and Bradley. 

(Don’t ever be a Rocket Man. I mean it. 

When you’re out there you want to be here, and when you’re here you want to be out there. 

Promise me you won’t be like me.)

Suddenly, there was this overwhelming urge inside him that if he didn’t touch you and have you in his arms, that he’d slip away, back to space. Untethered. 

You kept him on the ground. You kept him safe. 

Bradley scooted over towards your side of the bed and wrapped his arms around you, unable to bear another moment untethered. There, that was better. You were soft and warm and felt so precious in his arms. And with your nightie rucked up around your hips and one leg extended out and the other hiked up, your body was on full display. 

Easy access.

Your thighs were so fucking soft and curvy and he desperately wanted to slot himself right between them. Have them bracket his head, while his tongue lapped at your pretty pussy. 

Would he start there? Eat you out until you were begging for his cock? Have you grind on his lap…until you were begging for his cock? Or…just generally begging for his cock? 

They all seemed appealing, but admittedly kissing you until you were breathless and then rocking his body above yours until you were both tumbling over the edge had plenty of merit, too. Bradley wanted to treat you like you were precious first. 

But later? He’d slap your pussy so hard you’d be begging for his cock in no time - in fact, maybe he should time you? See how long it took you to break, to babble, to beg. 

But that brought him back to the present. Could he wake you up, now? Bradley knew you’d been stressed and busy ever since your mom had come to town and because of all you’d confessed earlier; so, would it be fair to wake you? You hadn’t woken him up, afterall.

After an indeterminate amount of time of just holding you and watching you breathe, you rolled your bare ass against Bradley’s crotch and let out a pleased hum. He gave your hip a squeeze and you burrowed even deeper in his arms. Your skin was softer than the silk nightie you were wearing and he could feel the heat pouring off your body.

He slipped his hand down to knead your ass and you sighed. “Hmm, da-dley? Bubba?”

“Hey, kid.” He kissed your neck. 

Once you were a little more lucid and opened your eyes, you pulled your nightie down to cover your ass, though that didn’t stop Bradley from playing with the lace hem. 

You rolled over so you were now face to face and wrapped your right leg around his left. 

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

You cupped his cheek. “Wanted you to sleep, you looked so tired. Pretty too.” 

It was dark in the room at five thirty-eight, but not completely pitch black, so Bradley could still make out your soft features. You had somehow gotten even more beautiful in the three months he had been gone. It wasn’t obvious, not at first, and not to anyone who wasn’t really paying attention. 

But it was obvious to Bradley because Bradley always paid attention.

“Well,” he kissed your forehead then your nose, “I’m still sorry, especially after what we talked about earlier, should’ve stayed up for you.” 

“But I woke up beside you, so I can’t be too angry.” You leaned in to kiss him. “It’d be impossible to be angry now, actually.” 

He hitched your right leg higher over his hip and groaned when he could feel your core through his joggers. You squirmed against him, cheeky little thing. But with his joggers and t-shirt still on, Bradley was definitely overheated and the sweat was building at the back of his neck, to say nothing about the heat your body was giving off. 

As if reading his mind, you grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and slowly dragged your fingers up his stomach, stopping at both his happy trail and then the patch of hair in the middle of his chest, before taking the t-shirt off completely. A soft thud rang out when you’d thrown it across the room and it presumably landed on the floor. 

“You gonna take these off, too?” He slipped a finger under the waistband of his joggers. 

“Been dying to all night - hips up, Bradshaw.” 

Bradley arched his back and helped you slide his joggers down his legs, taking his boxer briefs with them. Your gaze lingered on his body for a long moment, but you just gave him a coy little smile. 

“Fuck,” he sighed in relief, “How’d you let me sleep in those?” 

“How’d you fall asleep on me?”

“You got me drunk!” 

“Not my fault you’re suddenly a lightweight - Bradley!” 

He pinched your side and you wiggled away from him with a shriek. “Uh uh, not so fast.” 

Bradley pulled you close again, desperate to be nearer to you. You tangled your legs together and pointed your torso towards his, but remained perched on your elbow, while he was laying down flat.  

Suddenly somber, your eyes were drawn back to his body and he just let you look - drink him in and see what you had missed over the last few months. Every new freckle, scar, bruise, age line. 

Bradley couldn’t wait to do the same. What had he missed? What was different?

He could feel your eyes lingering on his abs. Normally, you remarked on his thighs and shoulders, but tonight it seemed you had a different focus. You appeared hesitant, biting your lip, as you dragged your finger across his stomach. 

Did you like how he looked - how he had changed in your time apart?

“You’re so handsome,” you whispered, almost to yourself. 

Bradley kissed you and returned the compliment. “And you’ve gotten even more beautiful since I’ve been gone.” 

You appeared bashful at the comment, which just let Bradley know he’d have to give you more of them over the next few weeks. “Come ‘ere.” Without waiting for a response, Bradley started pressing kisses all over your face, your cheeks, your neck, your lips. If it was possible at this point, he drew your body even closer.

“Bra-adley! We have an entire bed here, you know?” You giggled when he rubbed his nose into your neck.

“Mmmm, but it’s nice and warm here.”

You scooched down on the bed on your stomach so you were looking up at him. With a smile, you began to press languid kisses across his chest, starting just above his belly-button and creeping up to his pecs, heart, and shoulders. You loved his shoulders, you always managed to notch your head there during sex and press little kisses to the scars dotting them and his neck. Bites, too - marks to prove he was yours.

But tonight, it seemed you had a different path in mind and, while you still nipped at his shoulder, you didn’t stop there and instead went straight to the small tattoo on his bicep. You traced your fingers across the roman numerals:

x x x i x

Thirty-nine. 

As in thirty-nine years old. An age neither of his parents ever got to see. 

Bradley had gotten the tattoo when he was in flight school and a bit of a shit with self destructive tendencies. People never really asked what it meant and he never really wanted to tell anyone. 

He’d told Ezra, right around the time when they first started talking about moving in together, before that spectacularly failed. He also told Nat. However, the latter was only because he was drunk and pissed and he had just made lieutenant, once again surpassing his father in something.

Maverick had seen it about a year ago. He had never asked Bradley what it meant and probably never wanted to have it confirmed what it meant. But to anyone who really knew Bradley, it was easy to put together.

Bradley had told you about it on your fourth date. 

It was the second time you’d slept together. Because while your first time had been frantic and had taken you both by surprise (you, in particular, were freaked out that you’d slept with someone on the first date without a condom), the second time was much slower - softer. 

You had planned the date this time. Bradley had picked you up at your apartment - he even had come upstairs to get you - with flowers - and the two of you had dinner at Callie, followed by a performance at the San Diego Symphony. It was actually thanks to one of Bradley’s fun facts about playing the piano that you had gotten the idea. 

Both of you had gotten dressed up (a big departure from your third date hike in Torrey Pines), the food and drinks had been plentiful and delicious, and listening to Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G Major and Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 was made all the more romantic by the way Bradley held your hand for the entire first piece and had his hand on your thigh for the entire second.

So, after eating you out on your kitchen counter and going two rounds in bed, Bradley had told you what the tattoo meant and about his parents and Maverick and you had told him about your mom and your accident during your junior year of high school. 

And if you had asked Bradley, it was after that date that he knew he was going to fall in love with you. 

It hadn’t felt scary to tell you any of it. It felt right and natural. Like you wouldn’t judge him or get scared when things got hard. Like he wanted to protect you at all costs. 

And because he had told you what the tattoo meant, it made the moments since when you’d really focus and hone in on it all the more sweeter. During this last deployment, Bradley had often felt like the ink was burning into his skin under his flight-suit. It kept reminding him that he had once thought he had a timeline or a stopwatch on his bicep, slowly ticking down. But with you, it was something to strive towards, to reach beyond and be there for LIX, LXXXIX, and even XCIX. 

“What’s it like flying at night?” Your question snapped him out of his thoughts and you pressed another kiss to his tattoo to calm him. “I kept thinking about it on my flight to London. And how you must see this all the time, is it still a big deal? Can you even stop and think about it? Just endless night with thousands of stars to guide you? Being in the middle of the ocean, nothing around for hundreds of miles.”

(What’s it like, out in space?

It’s the best thing in a lifetime of best things - oh, it’s really nothing at all. 

But you always go back.)

“You’d never thought about it before?” his voice came out thick, hoarse. 

You shrugged a shoulder. “Not in that way, I guess? I couldn’t sleep on the way to London, so I pulled up the shade in the middle of the night. I’ve never really thought to do it before, don’t know why - but then I saw all those stars, endless stars, thousands of them. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Your finger stopped tracing patterns on his arm for a moment before it started again. “And I though to myself this is what Bradley sees. This is why he loves it and for that brief blip in time I got it. I understood. Makes me love you even more in some way.” 

Bradley felt like he was going to cry, the feeling swept over him so suddenly. “I uhh - fuck.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” you sounded contrite, “I just wanted you to know.”

Could he tell you? Could he tell you that flying at night with all the stars in the sky simultaneously made him feel closer to and yet farther away from his parents? It was like they were right there, but also so far out of reach. But he didn’t say any of that. He couldn’t say any of that, not now. The words couldn’t come.

Instead, he pulled you closer, putting your face at level with his own. “I love you.”

You smiled and he could’ve sworn there were tears in your eyes, but it was hard to make out in the darkness. “I love you, too. Now please kiss me.”

Bradley let out a chuckle, but leaned in to kiss you without another word. The kiss was sweet, but still had an underlying desperation attached to it that came with being away for months. But unlike every other kiss you’d shared since Bradley had gotten home, there was no need to stop or to prevent it from going further. No, now you were his. He could have you however he wanted.

Not breaking the kiss, you shifted and bracketed your thighs on either side of his hips, allowing him to slide his hands up your body. He’d never get tired of thinking it, but god, you were so fucking soft. Your hips, your thighs, your breasts, your hands, your lips - actually…

His next words were grunted against your neck. “Your lips are really soft - softer than normal,” he finished when you went to interrupt him. 

“Must be my lip mask. I put it on after I saw that you fell asleep on me…”

“Hey, hey,” he tickled your sides and you collapsed on his chest amidst your giggles, “I said you should’ve woken me up!”

“Would you have woken me up?” You had him there. “See? This way I could stare at you uninterrupted and get all moony over you. Plus, now isn’t this better? No more sleepy bubs.”

No. He was definitely awake now. And from where your core was laid on his bare stomach, he could already feel how wet your were and couldn’t wait to slip inside you. 

“‘Could kiss you for hours,” you said against his lips. You kissed him - once, twice, ten times, smiling all the while. He never wanted you to stop. “Bradley,” you whined, “Need you inside me. Gotta get used to you again. ‘m so tight.” You nipped his earlobe. 

He groaned. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend who said stuff like that. It was like something out of a wet dream. “You seriously only took your fingers the entire time I was gone?” You nodded. “Good girl.”

You preened under the praise. Because it surely had to have been a bit of a challenge. “Yours are so much bigger, though.” Bradley rolled his eyes at your cheeky tone. “What’re you gonna think up for me to do next time you’re gone? Like what you talked about earlier?” You didn’t linger too much on the next time part of your question, so he didn’t either.

“Hmmm. What about tasks?”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Well, I’d have to do more research, but like you have to wear xyz or send me a picture of you doing something? Whatever we want.”

You nuzzled his neck. “Mmmmm, I like that. Wish we could really talk when you’re gone, though. I’m not sure I could handle every comms officer hearing what I need from you again…”

An idea suddenly struck Bradley. It was amazing he hadn’t thought of it before. “Maybe I can make you an audiobook?”

Your jaw dropped and you contorted your body to look up at him. “You’d do that? Seriously?”

His cheeks colored. “I mean, not like an actual one, but like a voice memo or something?” The idea didn’t sound nearly as good out loud as it did in his head. “If you wanted…”

“Oh my god, yes! I very much do want.”

Without another word, Bradley rolled you both over so now he was on top, knees bracketing your hips so as to not put his full weight on you. Your nightie was still covering your stomach and breasts, but that didn’t stop him from snaking his hands underneath the navy silk to play with them. They felt fuller than normal - not that he was complaining, but he hadn’t noticed earlier and now -

His cock brushed against your stomach in a way that had you bucking up against him, so desperate, so keen, so fucking good. Good girl. Your lips were eager against his as you poured every thought, every email, every Facetime call into your kiss. 

God, it had been so long. Fooling around on the couch earlier in the evening paled in comparison to how plump your lips felt and how keenly your body reacted to his. Because you felt so good. Months, weeks, days had passed and Bradley had never felt anything as good as your body beneath his. 

You sighed and squirmed up the bed so your head was laid across the pillows, all the while Bradley made his way down the bed. 

“More, bubs, please.” 

How could he refuse, especially when you had asked so nicely? He bent forward to give you a sloppy kiss on the lips before working his way down your body, from your neck and collarbones, to your breasts through your nightie, and finally to right below your belly-button. From there, you readily allowed him to bend your knees so your feet were planted firmly on the bed and your core was completely exposed to him. 

Even in the early morning light it was exquisite. You had the prettiest pussy Bradley had ever seen - and it was his, all his.

“Fucking gorgeous.” 

You startled at the first touch of his lips on your thighs, but let out the prettiest little sigh when he sucked on the skin by your birthmark. There was another as he licked along one of your lightning lines. And another as he kissed the hood of your clit. 

God, you smelled so fucking good and were groomed just the way he liked it -  like the perfect, obedient, good girl that you were. And perfect, obedient, good girls got their pussy played with until they were babbling like dumb little sluts.

“- Would have thought this would be your first stop?”

Bradley chuckled, but didn’t stop dragging his fingers across your inner thighs and lower lips. “Yeah? What, d’you think I’d do? Just dive right in? Take you on the kitchen table?”

“I would’ve let you.”

Once the words had sunk in, he stopped teasing you. His elbows gave out beneath him and he groaned with his face pressed against the sheets. Fuck. That was a conversation for another time, but just the thought of you letting Bradley basically use you had him grinding his hips into the mattress.

You were so good. 

He popped his head back up and slapped you - lightly - across your pussy. “You keep saying shit like that and next time I just might.”

In response, you arched your back and tried to close your legs around his head, but Bradley just tutted and spread them further.

“Uh-uh, need to have a look at her, I've gone three months without her.” Your hips jumped off the mattress as his fingers started playing with you, tracing circles over and dipping in and out of your cunt. “‘pretty pussy. She took such good care of you while I was gone, didn’t she? Look at you dripping for me, huh?”

His fingers scissored inside of you, dragging against your walls, while his thumb needled your clit. Your wetness spread across his fingers and he, in turn, spread it across your folds and inner thighs. He liked when you were messy. He liked to feel you all over his face.

“Bradley,” you whined. “Stop teasing.”

Neither of you really wanted that, so it didn’t even merit a response from him. Instead, he kept sliding his fingers inside you in and out, in and out and crooked them ever so slightly before he added a third. Above him, you gasped and jolted. 

“‘Atta girl, arch your back, just like that.” You whimpered at his praise and kept rocking your hips in tandem with his fingers. Fucking glorious, such a good girl for da -

“- Bradley…” He peered up to see that you had one arm over your eyes, while the other was pawing at your breasts through your nightie.

“God, you’re sucking on my fingers so tight, I would believe you’ve taken anything up this pretty pussy in months.”

“‘Want your mouth, please, please…” 

“Where?” his voice was muffled. Bradley sucked his lips around your thigh, right by your labia, but refrained from kissing you were you wanted him most. He wanted to mark you up everywhere, have your thighs and breasts and neck covered in little bites and bruises. 

Mine. Mine. Mine. 

Good. Good. Good. 

You whined. It sounded pathetic and he had barely even started. “My pussy. Please, Bradley? Please?”

Who was he to deny you? Because, god, you tasted so fucking good. It was hard not to absolutely devour you, especially after going for so long without you. Bradley slid his hands down from your hips to grab your ass and rut your cunt deeper against his face. As a reward, he got a slew of pretty little whimpers out of you.

He continued at a steady pace, alternating between probing your clit and slipping his tongue inside you. Above him, you arched your back and he pressed a firm hand on your stomach to keep you down. 

“Bradley,” you cried as you rode his face. 

God, you sounded so pretty now, he couldn’t wait to get you on his cock later. 

Pretty girl. 

Smart girl. 

Good girl. 

His girl with a body like Aphrodite. 

“Ahhh - fuc - ahhh.” You made that sound and he knew, without even looking up, that your head was tipped back in pleasure and you were close. “Bubs,” your voice came out small, “want you - inside me, now.”

“Uh-uh.” Bradley pulled his head back, but continued fingering you. “You need to come first.” 

Come on his face. 

You shook your head frantically against the pillow. “No.” You gasped when he purposely plunged his fingers deeper. “‘wanna with you - ahh inside me.”

Somehow you grabbed the hand he had pressed on your stomach and you dragged it up your body. His knuckles brushed against the silk of your nightie until you eventually pressed sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your interlocked fingers. And all Bradley could do was say your name in censure, which ultimately came out heavy with need.

“Please? Want it to be together our first time back.” You whined pitifully. “Haven’t touched myself in days.”

All you had to do was pout and he was gone. 

“Fine,” he smacked your thigh, “but I’m gonna make you come again after I finish inside you.”

“Yes, yes, anything, Bradley.”

You would be spent and whiny by then, it wouldn’t be hard. 

After swirling his fingers once more around in your cum, Bradley held his fingers up to your mouth for you to clean them off. “That good?” You hummed around the digits before he retracted them and tapped your cheek twice. “Atta girl.”

Next, he shifted up on the bed so his knees were straddling your waist. He was achingly hard at this point and bit back a smile as you made grabby hands for his cock. It pulsed in your grasp and you swiped your thumb over the slit to rub his pre-cum over the head. Fuck, that felt divine. While you may have relished how much larger his fingers were than yours, Bradley loved how large his cock looked in your smaller hands. However, he’d already let your tender touches go on long enough - another minute and he’d come all over that silk nightie you hadn’t taken off yet.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” Your eyes were wide and you nodded. 

Trusting, needy, desperate. Such a perfect girl for him. 

“Wanna be full.”

He brushed the head of his cock against your pussy lips, making sure it was nice and wet and, god, you were fucking soaked and practically sucked him in. You whimpered and muttered something indistinguishable, but wrapped your arms around his shoulders and canted your hips up for more. Then, once Bradley slipped just the tip of his cock inside you, you gasped, but brought him closer. Your nails dug into his shoulders, hopefully pressing little crescents into the skin. He pulled back and slid in again, inch by inch, earning a breathy gasp from you every time. 

Holyfuckingshit. You were so tight. So fucking tight, even after prepping you with his tongue and fingers. 

Yours are so much bigger, though your voice echoed through his head. 

You were so fucking soft and warm and wet and felt perfect around him. With each thrust he’d grunt out your name and you in turn would give a whiny Bradley and eventually wrapped your legs around his hips. And then you were also clenching down on him like you’d spent the entire three months doing kegel exercises. 

“Fuck, you made me so hard - thinking about how much of a good girl you were while I was away, keeping this nice and tight for me,” he barely got the words out. 

“‘do anything for - for you. ‘d let you do anything to - mmhmm - me,” you finished with a whimper. 

Fuck. Your unwavering trust in Bradley always took him aback. Because you meant it. You really would let him do anything to you. If you had the slightest inclination that it would please him, you would do it. He had never had someone who trusted him that much. And that wasn’t something he took lightly. 

With that thought in mind, he snapped his hips against yours in a particularly hard thrust that had you crying out. 

“Mmm harder.”

He bent down to suck on your neck. This - the closeness - was why he liked missionary so much. It was perfect for this exact moment. There was plenty of time to take you hard and fast later.

“Oh, god. Feel so full - Bradley, Bra - Bradley!” With every utterance of his name, he drove deeper inside you. Harder inside you. You’d ride him next time, he’d make sure of it. But for now, breathing each other’s air, gasping against each other’s mouth, and feeling the sweat on each other’s brow, being so impossibly close to each other, it was hard to say where Bradley’s soul ended and yours started. 

Yours and mine are the same. 

He groaned your name and you opened your eyes to gaze up at him with an almost dazed expression. Grabbing the back of your knee, Bradley went in at a different angle, trying to get deeper. “Feel how much your little hole’s dripping? Just needed me to stretch you out again.”

“Mmmmm yes, yes, da-dley - ahhhh,” you cried out, “can I come? Please, please?”

Oh, you were such a good girl for him. Asking so nicely, so prettily. So properly. Thank god he had prepped you, he wasn’t going to last much longer, himself. It was kind of pathetic. Both of you were, to be frank. Obviously, you more than him in this instance, but -

“‘Course. There you go, sweetheart, come on my cock like a good girl.”

When you finally came a few moments later, it was with a strangled cry of his name that Bradley swore was the most beautiful sound he’d heard in months. As the shudder of pleasure swept over you and you tightened your core around him, Bradley hastened to find his own release. The slew of cries and whimpers against his lips as you tried to settle down only spurred him on further. He drove into you again and again and again. 

He had to get there with you - had to. You clung to him and notched your head by his neck, only to graze your lips along the tender skin there and bite. 

“Fuck,” he grunted. “‘You ready for me to come inside you, sweetheart? Know how much you missed it.”

You nodded against his neck. “Yes,” you whispered, “Bradley, please…”

He groaned your name. It sounded so good like that, so perfect. He had to say it again and again and again. With each stroke, your overstimulated pussy fluttered around him, pulling him towards his own orgasm. His jaw clenched and his back muscles tightened and Bradley could barely support his own weight over you for another moment - 

“‘s good, bubs, feel so full.”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was it. That did it. 

With a final moan of your name, Bradley came inside you, painting your pussy with his cum. His cocked twitched one final time as the last streams of cum filled you up. He notched his head against your shoulder and he breathed in your sweet scent. 

Goddamn. 

Once he settled down and caught his breath sometime later, he moved to pull out, knowing that when he did so, both your cum would drip down your thighs. Your gorgeous, thick thighs. He already needed to get lost in them again. And wasn’t that just the thing? Bradley was obsessed with you. He could never get enough of you.

“No, no, not yet,” you whimpered. 

He stopped and pulled you closer, but slightly changed your position. There was some perverse part of him that wanted to make a comment about keeping you on his cock for the rest of the morning so you could get used to him again, but he refrained after thinking about the tone of your voice. You sounded so fucking good and docile and submissive. Such a good girl. 

“Pretty sure you owe me another one…” You burrowed your head against his neck and moaned when he shifted. “How ‘bout I stay inside you? ‘That okay?” You nodded and your pussy tightened against him. “Good girl.”

Keeping you close, Bradley slid one hand in between your bodies to play with your throbbing clit. You arched your back up towards him, trying in vain to get closer, though that was nigh impossible - the two of you were already as close as two people could be. 

Yours and mine are the same.

He needled your clit between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth, trying to get some moans and whines out of you. God, your body felt unreal. Still so warm around him, still so wet for him. All for him. 

Mine, mine, mine. 

As your body shifted, your pebbled nipples brushed against his bare chest and Bradley was remiss for not playing more attention to them earlier. But that could’ve been because you were still wearing that goddamn nightie. You were flustered and warm and your skin was glistening with the slightest sheen of sweat. 

He bent his head down and mouthed at your breasts through the midnight blue silk. They were already hardened to peaks, desperate to be suckled on, especially after noting their new size. There would be time for that later, he had to remind himself. 

For now, he nipped at the top of your cleavage and kept playing with your clit. You were so oversensitive, you were practically shaking in his arms. And in response, you raked your hands through Bradley’s hair, pulling on the strands. Fuck him. That felt divine, especially as he felt you tighten around him. 

“Brad-ley,” you whimpered, “’s too much.”

“Shhh, easy, easy, there’s no rush.” He tipped your chin up. “You want me to stop?” You shook your head. “Take a deep breath. That's it. Good girl.”

Little whimpers kept escaping your mouth, but you burrowed your face against his neck and trusted him to take care of you. You nipped at the skin there and he hoped it would leave a mark; let everyone know that he was yours and only yours for the next few weeks. 

Mine, mine, mine.

“I’ve got to take care of you, you were such a good girl while I was gone. My best girl, huh?”

“Mmmm.”

“So beautiful, so smart. Took such good care of things for me, huh?” He could feel as well as hear your breath hitching, letting him know that you were close. “‘gorgeous girl, so proud of you, sweet g -”

And that did it. 

So proud of you.

You came with a cry and your walls fluttered around his cock once again. A sudden gush of wetness coated both yours and Bradley’s thighs. God, it was beautiful. You were beautiful. Your name kept running through his mind and Bradley realized he was actually muttering it against your lips through kisses. There were tears in your eyes and he thumbed them away before they could slide down your beautiful face.

“Hey, too much?” He kissed your cheeks, which unfortunately only made more tears spring from your eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, right?” 

“No, no,” you shook your head, “I just missed you so much, think I’m overwhelmed,” you finished sheepishly. 

The tension in Bradley’s shoulders eased and he smiled down at you. “Now you’re gonna make me cry, kid.”

“I love you.” The words came out quietly, but it was like they’d only just come out of your mouth before Bradley was saying them back. 

“Love you, too.” The smile he got out of you warmed his heart and he pecked your lips before tucking your head under his chin.

The two of you laid there for some time with Bradley still inside you. In fact, he was pretty certain you may have dozed off at one point, but he didn’t want you to be too uncomfortable when you woke up later. With that in mind, he slowly pulled out and settled you on the bed beside him. You fussed a little, but Bradley kissed your forehead, heading it off. 

He started with your name, “I’ll be right back, okay? Going to the bathroom.” You nodded at him, your eyes wide and trusting. 

It was chilly out of bed, away from you, and Bradley only paused for a brief moment to slip on a pair of his sleep shorts from the dresser, before heading off to the bathroom to get a damp towel for you. He hastened back to the bedroom, now almost fully lit in the early morning light. You made such a pretty picture all tucked under the thick, white duvet. 

“Bradley?” You stretched out underneath the covers and let out a little whimper. “‘m sore.”

“Shit, sorry,” he said with your special nickname tacked on the end. “Come ‘ere.” Despite his words, he came to you and dutifully cleaned you up with the warm cloth. 

“‘s not your fault,” you slurred, “need to get used to it again. Missed you.”

The cloth passed over your thighs once, twice, three times, before Bradley brushed it against your core once, twice, three times. You sighed and gave him a lazy smile, which he easily returned. 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee. “Be right back,” he whispered. 

You’d barely managed to get back under the covers by the time he came back from the bathroom. And then, with all the care and love you deserved at the moment, he bundled you up in his arms. You were so warm and smelled so pretty and your nightie felt so soft against his rough fingers. Everything about that moment was perfect. You were so precious. You pressed your cheek against his chest and he hoped you could tell how fast his heart was beating. 

“I missed being with you like this, missed holding you.”

You pressed lazy kisses to his chest for a moment before you eventually tipped your head up to meet his eyes. “Can we stay like this? Just for a while? Don’t wanna get up yet.”

“‘Course,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “go back to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

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

When Bradley woke hours later, he did so slowly. He was pleasantly warm, he was finally sleeping on a true mattress, and you were slotted between his legs sucking his cock. 

Surely, there were few better ways to wake up than to have your sweet lips wrapped around him. It wasn’t something you did often, at least in terms of waking Bradley up this way, but he loved whenever you took the initiative. It showed how eager you were - how desperate. Really, the only thing that could top it would be your pussy sunk deep on his cock as you rode him.

You had to have been at it for a while, for he was achingly hard by this point. His hips bucked up, thrusting his cock deeper into your mouth and you let out a surprised moan, no doubt having thought he was still sleeping, before taking him further. Your tight grip on his thighs left him relatively grounded, else he would have set off a round of those gagging noises from you that he liked so much. That wet mouth that he liked so much - fuck. 

Bradley groaned your name. You peered up at him with those wide, innocent eyes like you weren’t getting him off while he slept. Like your pussy wasn’t soaking. Like you hadn’t been grinding it against his bare thigh for the last however many minutes. 

And you kept at it with Bradley’s hand grabbing your hair and guiding you. You kept working him, forcing him deeper down your throat. He moaned and you responded back in kind. Such a good mouth, such a good girl, taking care of him like this. It took him a moment to realize he was doing it, but he was mumbling your name, almost nonsensically. 

But then he felt, rather than saw, you remove one of your hands from his thighs to presumably put it between your legs to play with your needy pussy. And that just wouldn’t do.

“Fuck. Get up here,” he said and then punctuated it with a growl of your name when you stayed down. The whimper you let out had him bucking his hips up off the mattress. “I’m serious.”

Almost begrudgingly, you eased him out of your mouth and the resulting, wet pop echoed throughout the bedroom. You looked far too pleased with yourself as you sucked on your finger - the one that had definitely been shoved up your pussy only moments ago - and hummed in response. 

“Get up here - now.”

You braced yourself on either side of Bradley’s hips and teasingly brushed your pussy against his aching cock a couple times, practically begging for him to sink inside you. It would be so easy for you to ride him right now, but that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Bossy, bossy,” you teased and crept up his body, pressing kisses to his happy trail and chest along the way. But just as you were about to kiss him on the lips, he stopped you.

“Uh uh.” He stuck his finger in the air and mimed a circle. “Turn around.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Are you…” Again, just Bradley twirled his finger around and smiled. “F-fine.” 

“But,” at this you relaxed your thighs to press more of your weight on his stomach, “you have to take this off,” he finished by thumbing the navy fabric of your nightie. 

It only took a moment for the smile to creep across your face, but you didn’t take your eyes off Bradley’s as you slid the dainty straps off your shoulders, one at a time. You didn’t take the nightie off, it still covered all of your stomach, but it let Bradley ogle your breasts unimpeded for a moment. 

“Will that be all, lieutenant commander?”

He just shook his head in disbelief. “Cheeky little slut.” 

And then you smiled, looking so proud of yourself for rattling him that he had no choice but to slap the top of your ass. Hard. You huffed.

“Now turn around.” 

You rolled your eyes, but managed to turn around with Bradley’s assistance. The brief awkwardness of limbs strewn about was easily forgotten as soon as you got into position and he was rewarded with the sight of your glistening pussy in front of his face.

Bradley didn’t bother holding back a moan and started kneading your ass and running his fingers along your lower spine. Meanwhile, you wiggled down his body, dragging your breasts against his bare skin for the first time all morning. They were so soft, but your nipples were pebbled as they brushed against his stomach. He hissed when you lingered there for a moment to tease him.

Not one to let you get the upper hand, Bradley grabbed your hips to draw you close to his face and inhaled your sweet scent. Fuck. You were so good. You let out a mewl and startled when he first made contact with his tongue and then attempted to nose at your clit. That always got you going. Same with his mustache against the tender skin at the apex of your thighs. Maybe he would abstain from shaving on vacation, if only you’d ask.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he groaned your name against your skin and then he feasted. 

Meanwhile, the way your hands were playing with his balls right now had him already teetering towards an orgasm. After only being able to fantasize about having your hands on him - your sweet, delicate hands on him - for the last three months, this felt divine. And then you put your mouth on him and he was well and truly done for.

“Fuck.” 

Neither of you lasted much longer after that.

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

After your depravity filled wake up call, the rest of the morning took on a decidedly more chaste tone. The room was filled with giggles and the sounds of kissing as Bradley told you some of the more entertaining stories from the carrier and Australia, while you revealed that you had watched his 60 Minutes segment at least nine times. When he asked you why you’d watched it nine times, you just ducked your head and bashfully said it was because you sounded really smart.

It was finally around noon when Bradley said you two needed a shower and to have breakfast before embarking on the rest of the day’s activities, which included a tour of the house, complete with all the little goodies you’d amassed for him over the last couple months that he had glossed over last night, and getting ready for drinks with Nat, Caroline, and Max at six-thirty. Granted, the latter was six hours away, but Bradley had a feeling you both would be pretty slow to the take that afternoon. Probably would get a little distracted, too.

“‘m gonna take a shower,” his lips brushed kisses up and down your arms and over your once again silk clad breasts and he was rewarded with giggles, “you wanna come with me?”

“Oh!? Uhh - yeah, we could take a shower.” You pecked him on the lips. “Can you warm it up first, please?”

The pout worked - it always did - but Bradley still groaned, totally hamming it up. “Mmmm, I suppose...”

With one final kiss, he dragged himself out of bed and made his way into the bathroom. He flicked the lights on with a snap, going for full brightness on the dimmer, and turned around to give you a cheeky wink, only to see you worrying your lip between your teeth and staring intently down at your clasped hands on top of the duvet. He called your name and your eyes snapped up to meet his gaze.

“You good?”

You nodded and put a smile on your face. “Yeah, be right in.”

Odd. But then again, Bradley could’ve been reading too much into it. He hadn’t seen you since before Christmas, afterall. You were probably just tired. Yesterday had been a long day. And he had run you pretty ragged this morning. 

The water had warmed up while he was going to the bathroom and was the perfect temperature by the time he finally got under the spray. Just as he was about to call out to you again, he heard you enter the bathroom - and promptly dim the lights. 

“Woah, woah - hey!”

“Sorry!” you called out from behind the shower curtain. “I uhh - I just have a headache, don’t want the lights too bright too early in the morning.”

It was twelve-fifteen. 

Bradley frowned and looked at your shadow moving on the other side of the curtain. You were standing up straight - he would almost call it stiff. It was an odd request, to say the least, but it wasn’t exactly pitch black in the bathroom now, just a little darker, especially from the waist down. 

“Okay, just be careful when you get in - here,” he pulled the curtain back and held his hand out for you to step over the lip of the tub. You startled, but nevertheless took his hand. “There you go.”

The two of you stood face to face for a moment, allowing you both to get your fill of the other. It was definitely darker in the shower now, but Bradley could still make out your ample curves. Streams of water dripped down your chest as you tipped your head under the faucet and it was impossible for him to not watch as the droplets cascaded over your breasts. 

They looked fucking glorious by the way - he was slightly put out that he hadn’t gotten a chance to really play with them in bed earlier - you had only given him a glimpse of them for a few moments - but there was always later. Or now? Now was also good.

“Did these get bigger?” The words were out before he could think twice and he cupped a breast in each hand. Your nipples pebbled as his thumbs passed over them, back and forth, back and forth.  

Your eyes flew up to his face before glancing right back down at your breasts. “What? No, I don’t think - no.”

Bradley leaned back to catch your eye. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. They look great, feel even better, they’re just…”

“Oh! I guess I hadn’t noticed.” You turned your back to him. “Here, do you want to do my hair? Or I can do yours? Why don’t I do yours?”

Before he could even process what was happening, you spun back around and grabbed the shampoo bottle from behind Bradley and squirted some Ouai into your hands. He leaned forward so you could lather his hair up with the suds and appreciated your care in keeping them out of his eyes. For someone normally so dominant and in control, Bradley really did love when you fussed over him. He knew it wasn’t something you were comfortable with in every aspect of your relationship - taking charge like that - but it was nice in settings like this. Once the shampoo had set, he crouched down for you to rinse and then repeat the process with the conditioner.  

“I think we need a bench in here.”

“Yeah?” 

You hummed. “Just a little bump out, enough for someone to sit. You’re getting older, I wouldn’t want you to fall or hurt yourself during any rigorous shower activity.”

“Rigorous shower activity?” Bradley chuckled and nudged you with his shoulder before wetting your hair under the faucet. “You know, if I took all my showers with you, I wouldn’t have to worry about that, kid. Here, turn around, ‘s your turn.”

Gently, Bradley lathered up your hair and made sure to massage your scalp the same way you had done for him. You let out a pleased hum and then he repeated the process with the conditioner, though he might’ve used a bit too much. 

Once you were both back under the spray, you rested your palms on his chest and peered up at him with wide eyes. You looked like you were about to cry and he pulled you closer in comfort.

“I haven’t stayed here at the house too much while you were gone, just a night or two - like that night…with the email,” you confessed, “it didn’t feel right. I kept thinking you’d come home any minute.” Bradley pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “But I’d drop stuff off slowly, a couple boxes a week and whatnot.”

You both stood in the silence of the falling water for a few moments before you spoke again. 

“It just doesn’t feel real - all of this. I keep worrying that you’re gonna disappear again tomorrow. Or that I’m going to wake up or something. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And that was just the thing: Bradley didn’t know what he’d do without you either. He had never felt this way before; that there was someone else tied to him, someone else living for him, while he in turn lived for them. 

“Hey,” he tipped your chin up, “you’re not the only one worried about that. But I have you with me now and I’m always gonna do my damndest to come home to you, alright, kid?”

“Alright.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, keeping him close, and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Love you, bubs.”

Bradley instantly tightened his arms around you. “Love you, too.” 

I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.

Before long, your kiss on his chest turned into a kiss on the mouth and your hands roved over each other’s bodies as you shared the loofah and soap. “So broad, so strong,” you said in wonder as you roved your hands over his chest and thighs and chased away the bubbles. 

And then, after multiple passes over your breasts at Bradley’s hands - it was unfair how good your breasts looked all sudsed up - it was time for a final rinse. He hopped out of the shower first and had a towel waiting for you when you got out, before you ultimately changed into your fluffy white robe. 

The two of you completed your morning routines side by side in comfortable silence until Bradley went back to the bedroom to put on some running shorts and a t-shirt. 

“You want breakfast?” He snuck up behind you at the bathroom counter and kissed your cheek. 

You smiled at him in the mirror. “Yes, please.”

“Anything in particular.” He kissed you again. “Pancakes? French toast? Ooooo maybe hash browns and bacon, too? The works?”

You had been giggling while he had been kissing your neck, but you suddenly turned sober as he rattled off your options. “Oh, uhh - maybe some eggs?”

Bradley frowned. “Like scrambled?” 

“Or poached? I’ve been eating a lot of egg whites lately…” With the way you were bundled up in your robe and with your hair still wet from the shower, you looked small - young. Egg whites?

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure, I can do some egg whites for you.” 

Egg whites? Since when did you like egg whites? You had always liked your eggs scrambled and a little runny - with ketchup. Idly, Bradley remembered Max eating egg whites and low carb toast for the entire month of May to get in shape for yacht week in Croatia. He shook the thought away.

“Anything you want, kid.”

“Thank you.” You gave him a soft smile and a kiss on the check. “I’ll be down in a bit, okay?”

And with that smile and a promise, Bradley headed off downstairs to make breakfast. 

Egg whites, really?

-----------

Bradley’s homecoming weekend extravaganza - your words - could only be considered truly complete with a family dinner at Maverick and Penny’s on Sunday evening. Penny wouldn’t hear of you two bringing anything to dinner, so all that was needed to do upon returning from a morning hike in Torrey Pines was shower and change. 

You didn’t have to be there until six thirty, but it was already five forty-five and at least a 20 minute drive, so you were both a little more hurried than you were after yesterday’s shower. In fact, when Bradley got out of the shower, he was surprised to see that you were still in your bathrobe and staring at your half of the closet like it contained all of life’s mysteries. Granted, your hair and makeup were done, but you just stood there with your arms crossed over your chest, absentmindedly biting your thumb nail. 

How long had you been standing there?

“If it makes it any easier,” you startled at Bradley’s voice, “I’m sure Mav will just be wearing a t-shirt and jeans.” Barely looking at the shirt he grabbed to go with his chino shorts, Bradley fell into your line of sight. “You good?”

You relaxed your shoulders. “Yeah, just…not sure what to wear.” 

The two of you stood side by side to take in the full array of clothes in the closet. While not all of your clothes - some bulkier items and more formal dresses were in the guest bedroom - there were still dozens of options in front of the two of you. You took a hesitant step forward and eventually took a pair of boyfriend jeans off a shelf and held them to your chest. Just as you were about to grab a boxy oxford, Bradley snatched up a brightly patterned, tiered, sleeveless dress that would hit at the middle of your thighs. The empty hanger rattled against the rod, but it stopped you in your tracks, the oxford momentarily forgotten. 

“This would look nice.” 

Even to Bradley’s own ears, his voice sounded lame, almost a little desperate. But there was something about you choosing an oxford to wear after staring at your closet for ten minutes that gave him pause. You had such pretty clothes, it would be a shame for you not to wear them. 

“It’s not too much?” Bradley shook his head and held the dress up to your body. “I bought it to bring on our trip, but now I’m not sure…”

“It’s perfect, trust me, you’ll look gorgeous. And you better pack it for Mexico, too, okay?”

“Okay.” You appeared a little flustered, but had lost the sad look in your eyes from moments ago, so Bradley considered it a win. 

With a kiss to the side of your head, he told you to finish getting ready and that he would be downstairs when you were done. 

After getting his wallet and car keys together, Bradley made his way to the mudroom to put on his new sneakers. Though you wouldn’t admit it, you had definitely ordered them for Bradley during one of your many Ted Lasso rewatches while he was away. He reminds me of you sometimes, you would demure when pressed. It was cute. 

With one foot propped up on the bench to tie his shoes, Bradley noticed the row of jackets in front of him. He called your name. “You want a jacket?”

“Yes, please,” your voice carried from upstairs.

So, he grabbed your jean jacket, figuring it would look good with your dress, and got himself his oversized grey Navy crewneck sweatshirt. Maverick and Penny always liked to have drinks and dessert out on the back patio, and though it had been a relatively warm day for March, Bradley knew the breeze off the ocean would make it chilly later. Maybe they’d light the firepit and have s’mores? You loved s’mores even more than Bradley did, if you could believe it. 

Just as he had gotten the jackets and threw his sweatshirt on, you appeared beside him. And just like Bradley had thought, the dress looked perfect on you.

“See? You look gorgeous.” You ducked your head and muttered thanks. “Here.” Bradley held your jean jacket open and helped you slip it on while you put on your sandals. And then you set off for Coronado in the Bronco. 

-----------

After a lovely dinner filled with much chatter and laughter, Amelia and Penny dragged you upstairs to show you her dress for the sophomore semi-formal next week. This left Bradley and Maverick to clean up the dinner plates and get things situated outside on the patio.

It was completely beyond Bradley’s comprehension how to get Penny’s fancy fire pit started, but Maverick had a flame roaring in no time. The two sat across from each other - Maverick on one of the cushioned, wicker swivel chairs with Bradley on the matching loveseat - and sipped their beers in comfortable silence for a few moments. The sun had set about fifteen minutes ago, but the sky was still a kaleidoscope of pinks, purples, and oranges. 

“So, how’re you really doing?” Though the question has been asked at dinner already, Bradley had just given a vague answer. But now that it was just him and Maverick, he felt he could be honest.

“Fine, I guess.” Bradley made a face. “‘s always weird doing some stuff again. We went to the store earlier; always takes me back that first time.”

“It’s the cereal. Too many choices.” 

“Yes, thank you!” Bradley exclaimed, glad he had someone who could relate. Every time he brought it up with Nat or the guys, they just looked at him like he had seven heads. They went from having few choices on the carrier, to endless when on land. “And the chips. Too many options and sizes.” Maverick chuckled. “We went on the way back from Torrey Pines to get more Diet Coke and I wandered off like three times just to stare at the oversized boxes of Lucky Charms.”

Maverick smiled wryly and took a sip of his beer. “You don’t look as tired as you did Friday afternoon, that’s for certain.” Though the way he’d said it had been completely innocent, Bradley still blushed.

“Yeah, it’s been amazing. You should’ve seen her Friday night, she was so excited to make dinner and the house just -” he broke off, “it felt nice coming home to someone like that, I guess.”

Nice? I guess? Bradley sounded like an idiot. It had felt more than nice coming home to you. Coming home this time made him never want to leave again. But the real test would come tomorrow when you went to work. And Bradley would be alone for the first time in three months. Alone in your big, quiet, house. It hadn’t been quiet in three months. There was always something else going on around him. But not tomorrow. Tomorrow, he could do things on his own time and make his own food and pick his own clothes. He could have choices. Luckily, Maverick didn’t seem to notice his sudden unease.

“That was all she talked about last week.” 

It took a concerted effort on Bradley’s part not to be jealous that you’d talked to Maverick so much last week when all Bradley had gotten were emails. Beautiful, heartfelt, smutty emails, but emails nonetheless. Before Friday, Bradley hadn’t heard your voice in weeks.

“She did a really good job. The cake was unreal, I had a piece for breakfast this morning.” That got a chuckle out of them both. “It’s nice to see her comfortable doing something outside of her wheelhouse. She kept sending me pictures from her lessons and even cooked for me on Facetime once.”

Just as Maverick appeared to be gearing up for a follow up, probably about how he’d gotten the leftovers from those cooking lessons, Bradley rushed out: “But we really talked Friday night - about a lot of things. It was good, though.”

“What about?” 

“Kids,” the word slipped out before Bradley could think better of it, “family, that kind of stuff.”

Maverick pondered this and took a sip of his beer. “And you didn’t mind talking about that right when you got back? Seems like a lot.”

“No, it was good.” Not looking at Maverick while he was talking made it easier for Bradley. That way he couldn’t see his pity. He shifted in his seat. “I’d rather we talk about it now anyway, that way it isn’t hanging over our heads on vacation and whatnot.” 

The fact that Bradley thought you were keeping something else from him didn’t need to be brought up yet. He wouldn’t even be able to put it into words, it was just a gut feeling at this point. You just seemed a little off. The egg whites, the boxy oxfords, the chocolate cake.

There was hesitancy in Mav’s voice when he spoke next. “So, you looking to get engaged soon? It’s been what? A year?”

“Almost, yeah. But uhh no, no.” The denial was firm in his voice. “Probably still a year off at least. It’s gonna happen - we both want it to - but there’s no need to rush it. I’m excited for it to be just the two of us for a little while, you know in the house and everything.”

“Good, good,” he sounded pleased, “you two have a good thing going, I wouldn’t want -”

“- We’re not going to have kids until I’m out of the Navy.” Bradley said the words in a rush and he really hoped Maverick would ignore how thick his voice sounded. 

But of course he didn’t. Maverick snapped his eyes over to meet Bradley’s, but he was suddenly focused on a loose thread on the upholstery. Shit. Why had he said that?

“Oh.” It was a long time before either of them spoke again. Bradley finished half his beer. “Is that your idea or hers?”

“It’s both of ours.” Bradley winced realizing how defensive he sounded. “Well, I kind of brought it up first, but she was the one who said we’d wait.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Bradley nodded. “Jesus, Bradley, you’ll be at least forty by the time -”

“- Forty-two.” 

Maverick looked sad and Bradley hated it. Because he knew, without Bradley even having to spell it out why you were going to wait. Because Maverick had been there. Because Maverick had held Bradley’s mom as she cried on too many occasions to count. Because Maverick had taken Bradley to all the father/son events in the place of his own father. Because Bradley realized, as he had gotten older, that Maverick thought it was his fault that Bradley grew up without a father. 

“Listen, we both know that a million things can happen between now and then and maybe the timing will be all wrong, but we want to wait. If it gives either of us the slightest peace of mind, we’re going to try and wait.”

The silence was heavy this time around. 

“Well, I guess it’s good you’re talking about it now - even if I don’t entirely agree with it. You should be enjoying your life together, not waiting around…” Maverick seemed to think better of what he was saying and took a sip of his beer. A beat passed until he spoke again. “Also reminds me of some stuff I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

Maverick waved him off. “It can wait until after your trip. Just some estate planning and whatnot, I know the four of us are in a really good place, so figured it was a good time.”

Estate planning? The four of us? The whole family was involved? Bradley’s curiosity was most definitely piqued. 

“Oh, err yeah, sounds good -”

“It’s nothing bad - promise!” he quickly backpedaled, “More paperwork than anything -”

“What’re you ladies gossiping about?” Amelia breezed onto the patio and messed up Bradley’s hair before she plopped down on the other end of the sofa. Naturally, he in turn had to elbow her in the side. Not hard, mind you, but hard enough for her to kick him back. 

“We were actually just talking about the dance coming up next Friday,” Maverick replied smoothly and Bradley stifled a snort. Since when had he become such a good liar? Regardless, Amelia preened. “I was just about to tell Bradley about your date…”

“What?!” Bradley exclaimed.

Amelia pouted, clearly put off that it had been brought up in front of him. He liked Amelia, he was protective of her, fucking shoot him. “Mav likes him!”

Maverick slightly cowed under Bradley and Amelia’s stares. “He’s nice, they’re on the debate team together.”

“Debate team?!” Alright, now he was putting it on a little bit, but as someone who had also been on the debate team in high school, Bradley knew that those guys were also smart, which generally meant they were way more trouble than the typical jocks.

Clearly misconstruing his comment, Amelia frowned. “Listen, I know you were rocking the middle part and puka shell necklace when you were on the debate team, but it’s cool now…”

“Puka shell necklace?” your voice chimed in from the doorway. “Pete never mentioned that when he was telling me of your high school heroics.”

Bradley’s cheeks colored. “Yeah, well, it was the late 90s and I thought Pacey Witter was cool.”

“The 1990s!” Amelia feigned hysterics and got a chuckle out of you and Maverick. “Next you’re going to be talking about where you were on 9/11 -”

“I was in kindergarten, we couldn’t go outside for recess,” you teased.

You sat yourself between Bradley and Amelia on the sofa and he threw his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer. He knew you’d get cold soon, but didn’t want you to run inside to get your jacket or a sweatshirt just yet - he just wanted you beside him. Plus, there was also the fear that you’d get one of Maverick’s sweatshirts from inside if you forwent your jean jacket and that just wouldn’t do.

Amelia groaned, but still turned her attention back on you. “Okay, but you were definitely Joey Potter, breaking hearts left and right. No debate captains for you.” She stuck her tongue out at Bradley for good measure.

“Ha, I wish. No, I was actually kind of lame in high school, very angsty.” Bradley knew why, but Maverick and the Benjamins were still in the dark.

“Really?” Amelia frowned. 

It was easy to understand her confusion since you were just about the coolest person she knew - her words. Amelia had told Bradley so the first night he’d brought you over for dinner. Can you ask her where she got her sneakers? A couple weeks later, you and Bradley had gotten Amelia the very same sneakers for her birthday. She always blushed when you wore them at the same time.

So, the next words out of your mouth clearly surprised her. “Oh, yeah, I was knee deep in Mazzy Star and Vampire Weekend. The dark preppy vibe, if that’s even a thing?”

“Jesus, I wasn’t even that bad.” Bradley squeezed your shoulder and got a smile out of you with his teasing.

Maverick and Penny were talking off on their own, so you turned your full attention towards Amelia. “I was in a car accident my junior year of high school. Kind of set me back with school and then - well, private school kids are kind of vicious so…” 

“What happened? Sorry - that was -”

“- It’s oka -,” you started to say, then seemed to think better of it. Because nothing about that night had been okay. “I was in a car with someone and we got t-boned. I got pretty banged up, broke my right arm and leg. It seemed like I had a perpetual concussion for the next six months. He just broke his arm,” you finished wryly. 

He. 

He just broke his arm.

Bradley pursed his lips at the mention of Teddy Cavanaugh. Fucking prick. To say you’d gotten pretty banged up was putting it way too mildly. Thinking about it again made him just as upset as it had that night all those months ago on your fourth date when you’d told him the entire story. 

And more recently, Bradley had had the unfortunate experience of meeting Teddy over Thanksgiving when Bradley had played golf with your dad one afternoon up in Berkeley. As a rule, Bradley tried not to hate people on sight - at least not anymore. 

But god, he really fucking hated Teddy Cavanaugh. He wanted to fucking deck him on the first tee at Claremont Country Club. He wanted to slam his nine-iron into the Porsche 911 he was driving. And Bradley was pretty sure your dad did too. 

It was such a cunty move to get the same car.

Plus, what self respecting twenty-nine year old still went by Teddy anyway?

But the truth of what happened that night wasn’t exactly appropriate for a post dinner conversation, nevermind the fact that Amelia was only a year younger than you had been that night. 

The realization made Bradley freeze. 

You had only been a year older than Amelia when it happened. Amelia, who still slept with the stuffed cow her grandparents had gotten her for her sixth birthday. Amelia, who still played with her American Girl Dolls when she didn’t get invited to a friend’s house on Friday nights. Amelia, who still made Bradley a new welcome home banner after every deployment. Amelia, who still huffed whenever Bradley ruffled her hair as a hello. Amelia, who Bradley promised he’d teach how to drive that spring.

You were Amelia. You had been that young, that sweet, that trusting and Teddy Cavanaugh had thrown it all back in your face.

Bradley could feel his chest tighten, even as he ignored the chatter around him. Maverick and Penny had joined in whatever conversation you were now having with Amelia, but all Bradley could do was sit there. 

Without a word, he pulled you closer, so you were bundled up in his arms. It was still proper enough in front of his family, but he needed to have you close. Your legs were plastered together alongside Bradley’s right side and you burrowed yourself under the arm he draped across your shoulders. 

Everything was right as it should be. Bradley was with his family, Bradley was with you, here. Not on a carrier in the middle of the Pacific or the passenger seat of Mr. Cavanaugh’s Porsche. 

Here. And nothing bad was going to happen here.  

Soon, the conversation changed to whichever HBO show Amelia and Maverick were excited to watch later that night, while Penny went inside to get the dessert: s’mores. 

“‘You need any help?”

Penny waved you off. “I’m all set, everything’s already measured out.”

Once she was gone, Bradley pressed a light kiss to your shoulder and you shivered. “‘You getting cold, kid?” You nodded. “‘You want my sweatshirt?” 

“Please?”

“I’ve got one in the mudroom if -” 

“No, it’s fine,” Bradley cut off Maverick, “she can have mine.”

Quickly taking off his own sweatshirt and putting it over your head, Bradley didn’t even have the time to linger on how pathetic he sounded. Who did Maverick think he was, offering to let Bradley’s girlfriend borrow a sweatshirt? Didn’t he realize Bradley was more than capable of taking care of you?

“Thanks.” You smiled at him, now cozy and wrapped up in the still warm sweatshirt and Bradley nearly forgot why he had gotten so huffy in the first place. Nearly. 

“So,” Penny popped back out onto the patio with a heaping tray of marshmallows, a bowl of chocolate squares, and stacks of graham crackers, “who wants s’mores?”

“Me, me!” Amelia called, pushing her way towards the tray and subsequently dishing out the marshmallow sticks. 

Little shit gave Bradley the worst one, even knowing Maverick wouldn’t have any and therefore didn’t need one. As payback, he kept putting his marshmallow wherever Amelia’s was. It meant that he didn’t roast a single good marshmallow, but the glare she kept sending him was too funny to make him stop. 

Eventually, after Bradley had to blow out yet another marshmallow - Oh, shit! Not again! - you took over s’more duties. Just as well, really; yours were the best. You turned marshmallow roasting into an art form - a perfectly golden, gooey art form. While you didn’t eat any with graham crackers, you did have one you roasted over the fire with the chocolate already stuffed in the marshmallow. You smiled at Bradley’s shocked expression and then wordlessly made him three exactly like it.

All the while, you answered Penny’s questions about how your dad and Mary were doing and when they were next coming down to San Diego and if they would want to get dinner with her and Pete, just the four of them? But when you started nodding off against Bradley’s shoulder, he knew it was time for you both to head home. 

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

Mon, March 22, 1:43pm

How was your meeting? 

it was fine, but ran over and i didn’t get to have lunch before my one o’clock ☹️

At least have a snack or something, don’t want you wasting away on me, kid. 

i won’t! what’re you up to?

Stopped by the base for a bit, saw the guys and then went to the gym.

I might get a haircut later. 

you can’t get a haircut without me! i don’t trust you not to get it too short! plus i like it a little longer 

Oh yeah? 

i like when it gets curly at the ends, it’s always really soft too. can you wait till after the trip?  please bradley please?

Fine, but only because you begged me…

i’ll make it up to you later, promise and i did not beg you…

Or you could make it up to me now?

Is the office busy today?

no  it’s pretty quiet

You wore that navy skirt, right?

yeah with my white silk blouse 

What’d you wear underneath it?

bradley! i don’t know, boring underwear? 

You wanna show me? Just to check?

you can see when i get home, i’ll even try and sneak out a little early 

Wanna see now

Show me

fine, just give me a sec. i’ll go to the bathroom 

No

At your desk

Now

bradley!

Sweetheart I’m aching

[image: Mr. 7.5 Gs]

fuck holy shit bubs what were you doing before you texted me?

Jerking off, I’m bored

charming

Wanna be inside you

fuck bradley wish i was home to take care of you god you’re so pretty hold on

Keep thinking about you in your office, acting all proper and then I’d barge in and fuck you on that fancy desk of yours

[image: miss ‘the one day i’m wearing plain underwear’]

God such a good girl for me

Are you wet

mmmm  getting there this is so hot unless i get fired

I’d bend you over

Take you from behind

You’re always tighter that way

[Sent with Siri]

bradley

Need your mouth on me

I’d make you get on your knees and suck me off in front of the window

Fuck your throat

[Sent with Siri] 

bradley you’re not playing fair

No you’re not

Need more pictures of you

[Sent with Siri]

What do you want me to do? [Sent with Siri]

Shove your fingers up your cunt

Knuckle deep

[Sent with Siri]

I’d have to use three to feel like yours [Sent with Siri]

Need a video need to hear you too

[Sent with Siri]

[for bradley’s eyes only.mov]

Fuck you’re fucking gorgeous like that 

Always do just what I ask 

Fuck I need you so bad 

[Sent with Siri]

Need you too fuck [Sent with Siri] i can’t believe you got me to do that at work

When are you coming home? 

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

There was something up with you. The thought kept running through Bradley’s head Tuesday evening while he was on his run.

Bradley would never have described you as skittish, but that’s how you had been acting over the last couple days. You were still affectionate and kind and you. And had told him countless times how much you loved him and how happy you were that he was home. 

So, it had to be a physical thing. You were guarded whenever he touched you - whether you were being sexually intimate or he had just grabbed your waist to cuddle you closer on the couch or in bed. It was always your waist or stomach area, really. That was the hot spot.

At first, Bradley thought he’d been too rough with you that first time back, but he knew you trusted him enough to tell him if that was the case, so that was out. Plus, later that morning when you were riding him, you’d asked him to grab your hips so hard he’d leave behind marks. You liked whenever he marked you - and he liked whenever you marked him. And you weren’t shying away from sex with him, not at all. In fact, you were pretty insatiable.

Then, he’d thought you might have hurt yourself while he had been gone and had a scar or something that you hadn’t wanted him to see? But your skin was free of new blemishes, baring the zit on your cheek you’d been complaining about since Saturday night. 

At one point, Bradley had even contemplated that you might be pregnant. He had been gone for three months, an entire first trimester. But something about the theory didn’t sit right with him. 

First, you would’ve fucking told him on Friday night, especially after you both talked about waiting to have kids and how you were on the same page. Because Bradley wasn’t dying in an F-18 with a family at home. 

Then, there was the fact that you had an IUD and the possibility of getting pregnant on an IUD was even less than on the pill (<1% a year - he’d looked it up). And finally, you’d be showing by now, even if only a little bump. But now that he thought about it, in all the days that he’d been home and all the times you’d had sex, Bradley had only seen you completely naked once. One or both of you were always partially clothed. And he would have noticed - right? Your boobs were definitely bigger, but it wasn’t - that wasn’t it, no, he was sure you weren’t pregnant.

It had to be something about your body, your stomach in particular. Because you were still affectionate, still wanted him, were still relatively yourself, your boobs looked great, and you loved him. So, why did you practically jump out of your skin whenever Bradley’s hand grazed your stomach? 

He would give you until Friday to tell him on your own before he asked. That would be a week from when he’d gotten home, more than enough time. Plus, maybe being on vacation would get you to open up a bit? 

Because this just wasn’t you. You didn’t really keep any secrets from Bradley. He wouldn’t be so naive to say that he knew everything about you, but in general you were honest with him. Was there a hint in one of your emails? Some little detail he had glossed over in his haste to read any scrap of news from you, in your voice? Bradley had read all of them at least three times, some even more, but maybe he had missed something?

The run he’d gone on to clear his head left the problem no more clear than when he’d set off forty-five minutes ago. He ran up the back steps to the mudroom and toed off his sneakers before heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. You’d be home soon, he needed to start dinner.

Last night, you’d marinated some steak tips and made some rice pilaf, while Bradley roasted some vegetables. There was plenty of leftover steak for dinner tonight, he just had to decide what to make with it. Taking a peek in the fridge, he took a quick inventory of anything you’d need to finish before leaving Thursday morning. A couple peppers laid in the crisper along with an eggplant, which stumped him as neither of you liked eggplant. He could do steak fajitas with those? There were always fresh tortillas around. Content with his plan, Bradley grabbed a bottle of Pellegrino from the side door and poured himself a glass. 

As he put the bottle back, his eyes landed on the chocolate cake, perfectly ensconced in glass snapware, on the top shelf. How the hell was there still leftover chocolate cake? In addition to what you’d had Friday night, the two of you had had some for breakfast Sunday morning - well, Bradley had had some for breakfast Sunday morning and you’d let him feed you a couple bites. He shut the fridge door with a little more force than necessary and started prepping the peppers and onions. 

You loved chocolate cake. And you’d worked so hard on it. Why the fuck weren’t you eating it? Plus, now that he really thought about it, you’d barely had a s’more at Maverick and Penny’s and instead kept yourself occupied by lovingly making Bradley’s for him. And then there were the egg whites.

It would be a lie to say that none of it had seemed off at the time, but looking at all the incidents together just showed how truly off things were. And then coupled with how off you were with other things like your clothes and stomach - oh. 

No way. No fucking way. That could not be it. 

No, no. You couldn’t be worried about how - 

Just as he was finishing up the peppers to go along with the onions he’d already prepped, Bradley heard the back door open.

“Bubs?” you called out, “I’m home!”

“Hey!” 

“How was your run?”

Bradley quickly washed his hands and went over to meet you in the mudroom. And there you were, looking polished and professional in a black tweed, sleeveless dress that he hadn’t gotten a glimpse at before you’d left for work that morning, thanks to the blazer you’d thrown over it. The bodice of the dress was decorated with what he hoped were functional gold buttons that were just begging to be ripped open. And to top it off, you were wearing semi sheer black tights and those black slingbacks he liked so much. 

Actually, you were leaning against the wall trying to unbuckle those slingbacks he liked so much. But all Bradley could focus on as you asked him about his afternoon was the curve of your hip and the fact that your breasts looked unreal in that dress.

His pretty girlfriend. His pretty girlfriend who looked so smart and absolutely fuckable right now. His. His. His. His -

You stopped trying to take off your shoes and shot him a questioning look as you approached. “Bradley?”

“Sorry, I uhh - yeah, it was fine. Saw the Thompsons finished their patio - is that a new dress?” His fingers idly brushed against the fabric and you froze. 

“Oh, uh, no. I’ve had it for a while. Since the move, I’ve been going through my clothes trying to see what I actually wear and - I know it’s a little small now, it keeps riding up my hips a bit, but I still think it looks nice on top…” You ventured out of the mudroom. “Does it look bad?”

No, it very much did not look bad on you. It was definitely tighter than anything you normally wore to work, but it looked good. And weary from the work day with your hair a little mussed and the dress a bit askew from when you tried to take off your shoes, you looked absolutely divine and Bradley had to have you immediately. 

“No! I’m just,” he goaded you further into the kitchen, “surprised you wore it to work - in a good way!” 

The shy look on your face gradually slipped away and you crowded into Bradley’s space. “In a good way, huh?”

His hands found their way to your waist and he waited for a reaction from you. Getting nothing but a smile, his thumbs rubbed circles along your hips and he brought you chest to chest. 

“I gotta ask, though?” You hummed. “Do these really work?” He dragged his fingers up and down the front of your dress, spending the slightest bit more time along the square neckline and your breasts.

“And what if they did?”

Bradley groaned your name and rested his forehead against yours. “Then I’d have to unbutton every last one of them right now.”

You kissed his neck, paying no mind to the stubble he had been growing since Friday night. If you’d asked, he would shave it in a second, but you loved the roughness against your neck and inner thighs. As your lips kept up their targeted attack on his neck and jawline, your right hand slid between your bodies to palm his cock through his athletic shorts. 

“But if you did that, then you’d have to take me right here…”

Barely a beat passed before Bradley grabbed your hips and plopped you down on the kitchen table. It shook under your weight. Your chest was heaving at the sudden action, in turn drawing his attention to your breasts and those tempting buttons. They reminded him of the ones on his old Naval dress coat from Oceana. 

“Lemme help you out there.” 

His nimble fingers made quick work of the four brass buttons that revealed your black lace bra. Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell you were pleased he didn’t tear off any of the buttons. Knowing you, his spoiled, prissy girlfriend, the dress was probably expensive. Good.

Next, Bradley pushed the wide straps over your shoulders, leaving your black lace bra as his final impediment. “So pretty,” he muttered into your chest. Your head tipped back and you pulled him closer, deeper.

“You didn’t send me any texts today,” you barely got the words out as Bradley made quick work popping one of your breasts, then the other, out of your bra. It was technically a lie; he had texted you, but it had been a do you know where my Theragun is text, not a show me your pussy right now text. “I even wore pretty underwear for you.”

Bradley tutted against your left breast. “Guess I have to make it up to you now.” 

His mouth latched onto your nipple and he needled the little nub with his tongue. You carded your fingers through his hair and gave the ends the slightest little tug. 

“Thought about you all day, bubs,” you whispered the words against Bradley’s ear before nipping at the lobe. 

“Yeah?” Granted, if you kept rutting against each other like this, he’d probably cum in his shorts - there really wasn’t a lot of substance to the running shorts he was wearing - but god. He needed to sink inside you. 

Today was the first time since he’d gotten home that you hadn’t fucked in the morning. You had had to hustle out of the house for an early meeting and even Bradley had an eight-thirty physical at the Naval Medical Center. There had barely been time for a heated makeout against the refrigerator - to say nothing of a good fuck - before you’d left with your lip gloss slightly mussed.

“Would’ve come home sooner if I knew you were wearing these fucking shorts.” You slipped your hand under the waistband of his compression shorts that were borderline painful at this point and grabbed his cock with an expert touch. 

“Fuck…” Bradley allowed your touches to go on for a few more moments before he pulled back, knowing he’d spend in your hand if you kept this up. “Hold on.” You pulled your hand back and he yanked his t-shirt off over his head and threw it on the breakfast bench. Your hands crept across his chest before they eventually rested on his shoulders. 

But now it was Bradley’s turn to touch you. Your tights felt particularly soft beneath his hands as he inched higher and higher up your thighs. He loved when you wore stuff like this, so prim and proper. Especially when you got all squirmy beneath him. Cheeky little thing. The heat was pouring off you where Bradley was touching you between your thighs, even though your underwear and tights. Your arms wound around his neck to pull him closer and press your lips to his in a bruising kiss. God, he could kiss you for hours; he never tired of it.

“Bradley…” you sighed through his ministrations. “More, bubs.” 

He smiled, of course, anything for you. Anything to be inside you. But first, he had to ask: “These the thick ones?” You froze under him. “The tights? The thick tights? Like from Thanksgiving?” 

They had a more formal name, but he was focused on other things at the moment, namely if he could rip a hole in them to get to you faster. Over Thanksgiving, he’d found out the hard way that your tights were often rip resistant. Which really put a damper on a portion of your wine cellar escapades. 

“Oh?” The furrow between your eyebrows disappeared. “Oh! The tights! No, no, they’re cheap ones from J Crew or something.”

Good. Then he wasn’t going to apologize for what he was about to do. Because Bradley had to fuck you, he had to be inside you right now. Something about you and being off and those tights and that dress and his run and the subsequent endorphin rush. 

He had to have you.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bradley tugged at the seam of your tights and ripped a hole in them large enough for his hands - and his dick - to poke through. You sighed when he broke through the nylon and slid your panties to the side to circle your clit with his thumb.

“So good,” he muttered reverently. 

God, what a pretty picture you made. Dress rucked up around your stomach, chest bare, and pretty pussy on display just for him. 

“More, please, Bradley.” You whimpered while he teased you with one finger, then two. “Anything. Need it - you.”

“You get stressed out at work today?” You nodded and then burrowed your head against his neck, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. “Poor thing, da - I’ll take care of you, yeah. Make you forget.” 

Bradley thrusted his fingers deeper inside you, crooking them just slightly so you’d buck up against him. You bit his neck when he tweaked his fingers just right. There you go, just a little more and you’d be ready for him. God, he was aching. He couldn’t fathom teasing you anymore. He needed you, now. 

“Just need to slip inside you, sweetheart. You made it so perfect for me.” Wet. Hot. Tight. Perfect. His. “There we go, just like that, good girl.” Bradley took a moment to line his cock up and slid inside you in one motion. “Fuck,” he punctuated the word with your name, “good?”

“Yes, yes.” 

You got into a steady rhythm that kept increasing. The table creaked under your combined weight and had anything been on it, it surely would’ve toppled over by now. 

You tightened around his cock and met his hips thrust for thrust. A wave of heat swept over Bradley’s body and he could feel you slipping deeper into a lustful haze. Knowing he was also close and would be near useless in moments, he hiked your left leg higher up on his hip so your heel was digging into the back of his thigh, anchoring you to him. 

“That’s it, that’s it,” Bradley said mindlessly. 

Your faces were so close, you were breathing each other’s air, stealing the word’s off the other’s lips. Yours and mine are the same. You cried out suddenly and snapped your eyes up to meet Bradley’s brown ones. God, you were beautiful. You both were beautiful. This was beautiful. Being together like this was beautiful. It was wet and loud and messy, but it was beautiful. 

Everything about it.

“‘m so close,” he finished with your name on his lips like a plea. “Wanna wait for you.”

“Don’t, ‘ll be right there.”

His thrusts eventually got sloppier and slower, but he could still feel you clenching around him as he spent himself inside you. 

“Fuck,” he panted your name. “That’s it, that’s it.”

“‘s full, bubs.” Your nails dug into his shoulder, centering him so he could turn the focus back on you.

All he needed was a few more shallow thrusts and a punch of your clit to get you there alongside him. You came with a cry, utterly spent, but sated. 

Your legs relaxed their hold against his thighs, but you didn’t totally release him. Meanwhile, he pressed kisses across your cheeks and lips, before finding himself notched along your neck. 

“There you go, good girl. Did such a good job, huh. So beautiful.”

It was quiet between the two of you for a few moments, all Bradley could hear was your breaths panting against his cheek, while your index finger moved lazily across his shoulder blade. But then you started shaking. 

And at first he thought it was from being overstimulated until he realized you were shaking from silent giggles. Bradley picked his head up from where it was buried in your neck and leveled you with a look that had you properly bursting into laughter. He wanted to make some smart comment, something cheeky, but the gorgeous smile on your face had him losing his feigned stoicism and he started laughing right alongside you. 

“So,” you said after your laughter subsided, “what’s for dinner, bubs?”

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

The following morning, Bradley poked his head into the dining room where you’d made up your office for the day. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why you weren’t using the office upstairs, but he held back. He liked that you were downstairs, he liked that you were close to him. 

Of course he’d seen you work from home before. But there was something about seeing you holding meetings and taking calls for the first time in your home that made him smile. 

And though you were taking a half day to prepare for leaving tomorrow, Bradley knew you’d be checking your email and Slack for the rest of the afternoon before officially logging off for the next 10 days. 

10 days in Punta Mita - just the two of you, no distractions, no emails, no training runs, nothing but the sun, sea, sustenance, sleep, and sex. 

Just you and me, kid.

Bradley inched further into the room and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m gonna go for a run, but should be back for lunch.”

You took out your Airpods before responding. “Sounds good, how much are you thinking?”

“Probably a quick 10k?” It had been ages since Bradley had run his usual route through Balboa Park, so these last few days had been a treat.

“‘A quick 10k,’ he says. I should be done by the time you get back?” He nodded. “We can have lunch and then I’ll head out on my errands.”

Errands? “Oh? I didn’t know you were going out?”

You sat up straighter and fully focused on him. “Yeah, I have to get my nails done and then have to pick up a couple things - like your special sunscreen...”

“Can I come?” he asked, completely ignoring the sunscreen comment. It wasn’t special per se, it was just high SPF since he burned easily. 

“Really?” You sounded surprised. “It’ll be pretty boring.”

“No, I wanna come with you.” I wanna spend time with you. 

A bashful smile appeared on your face. “Okay, I’m trying a new salon.”

“Ditching your old stomping grounds?” Bradley asked, referencing your old neighborhood near Gaslamp. 

You nodded your head. “Figured I’d try someplace around here, but the only one that looks promising is way up on 30th?”

“I think we can make due with that,” he pecked your cheek, “alright, I’ll see you in a bit, kid. Don’t work too hard.”

“Har, har, see you soon.”

Bradley shot you a wink and set off. Who knew, maybe he’d set a new PR in his haste to get back home to you?

And sure enough, after his quick 10k through Balboa Park and the surrounding neighborhood, Bradley bounded up the back steps and quickly disposed of his sneakers and his sweat stained grey t-shirt on the mudroom floor. It had been stupid to even wear one in the first place, he’d had to tuck it into his waistband before he hit the first half mile. 

“New personal record!” 

Your face lit up with a smile as Bradley came into the dining room. “See, now, how do I know you just didn’t milk a 3 mile run or something?”

He rolled his eyes and gestured down at his torso, which was gleaming with sweat, even in the soft mid-day lighting currently cloaking the dining room, and showed you his running app for good measure. “Does this look like I milked it?”

“Come ‘ere.” You held your arms out.

“I’m all sweaty, kid…”

“Nope, don’t care, please?”

Hey, if you weren’t going to complain that Bradley was too sweaty or smelled, then he wasn’t about to put you off. He wrapped his arms around you over the back of the chair and put his chin on the top of your head.

“You know, if you like the scent of someone’s sweat that means you’re soulmates…” 

“Is that right?” You sounded amused.

Bradley burrowed his face in your neck, forcing a giggle out of you even before he pressed butterfly kisses everywhere. “Mmmhhmm, yup. You always smell perfect.” 

“That’s just my perfume!” 

“Nope, just you kid.” 

Bradley could feel you relax and let out a sigh. The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, content to just be with each other, until your Mac dinged with an Outlook notification. You stretched your arms out in front of you to reply to the email, but Bradley didn’t let you go. As he watched you type out a response to your coworker about if ESG investments were just virtue signaling or not, his eyes caught a glint of gold on your wrist.

“You really wear that bracelet everyday, huh?”

You turned your head to look up at him and he was pleased to note you looked incredibly flustered. “Of course I do. You got it for me.”

The matter of fact way you responded had him blushing. “Guess I’ll have to get you the necklace for your birthday…”

“You better not!” He just kissed your cheek. “Bradley, I’m serious! That’s too much - especially for just a birthday.”

“Then I’ll get it for you for our anniversary.”

“Bubs…” You were pouting now and it only made him want to get you the necklace more. “It’s too expensive for something like that; I looked it up online.”

“You’re no fun.” 

And so he would continue to be denied the pleasure of seeing you in the matching jewelry - at least until he wore you down. You did have a point, though - the necklace was almost twice as much as the bracelet. But then again, you bought Bradley little (and not so little) things all the time?

Idly, he recalled the jibe he had ignored from Hangman the other day regarding his leave: not all of us have rich girlfriends to take us on two week vacations. Bradley’s reply that it was only for ten days, not two weeks hadn’t exactly done him any favors. 

But it was a points game! It was practically free. (He knew it wasn’t, but…) And you were going dutch for all the incidentals and room charges. It was going to be perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. 

Ten glorious days of no work, no distractions, just the two of you. 

You turned around in your chair so you were properly facing him. “Do you want to get lunch out? Make an afternoon of it? We don’t really have much in the fridge, so it’s either lunch or dinner out and I know you still have to pack.”

A smile crept across his face and he kissed your nose. “I’d love to go to lunch with you. You sure you won’t get sick of me? All this one on one time?”

You just shook your head. “Nope, not that easily. Well, unless you sit next to me at the salon, I’m not very chatty while I’m getting a pedicure.”

“Woah, woah.” Bradley held his hands up and you grabbed one to examine it. “Since when am I getting my nails done?”

“You’re getting a pedicure at the very least. I don’t want to have to look at your weird feet on the beach all week.” 

“Oh-ho, now you’ve done it.” 

He bundled you up in his arms and started tickling your sides. That was your sweet spot. And hopefully if he was tickling you, you’d forget to be jumpy when he touched you there. He hadn’t forgotten about that.

“Bradley! Bradley,” you giggled. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding, I’m kidding. No pedicure.”

But Bradley did end up getting a pedicure, even if it only entailed getting his feet buffed. If pressed, he would say it was because he wanted to sit in the massage chair and the nail tech told him he could only sit in the chair if he was getting his nails done. That was the only reason why. It wasn’t because of how pretty you looked while you were smiling at him out of the corner of his eye, like you couldn’t believe he was really there.  

Absolutely not.

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

“Do you need any help packing?” 

Bradley nodded, he hoped he didn’t look too sheepish. At thirty-six years old, he absolutely could pack his own clothes, but he liked when you fussed over him and made sure your clothing was complementary to each other. It was sweet. Plus, you always packed stuff he hadn’t thought to bring or wear together.

The two of you were a well oiled machine. Bradley would roll his underwear, pajamas, and gym clothes into his packing cubes while you helped pick out his bathing suits and later his dinner and day clothes. To his great surprise, you managed to fit all his clothes - for ten days, mind you - into his Samsonite carryon. His toiletries and extra pair of shoes and other incidentals would go in his backpack.

Once his suitcase was zipped up and ready to go, Bradley nodded towards your Rimowa stashed by the bedroom door. “‘You need any help? You don’t normally check?”

You normally lived by the carry-on rule, so it seemed out of character for you to check a full-size bag. Which, of course, wasn’t the first thing that seemed out of character for you since Bradley had gotten home. But he promised himself he’d wait until you came to him with your problem. Or till Friday.

“Oh, uhh, yeah, I guess I just have more stuff this time.” You shook your head. “I packed earlier while you were taking a nap, but thanks.”

He clicked his tongue. “Guess it’ll be a surprise then.”

“Hmmm, I’ll let you see my shoes?”

Bradley sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back on his elbows. “You’d do that? For me?”

You giggled and then mimicked his pose on the bed, except you made sure to snuggle up next to him, all earlier awkwardness gone. “I’d do anything for you actually.”

“Sap.” He kissed you. 

“Nerd.” You kissed him. 

“See, now you’re killing the vibe,” he teased. You giggled and kissed his shoulder through his t-shirt. “You ready for tomorrow?” You nodded. “You’re not gonna get sick of me, right?”

You shook your head. “Never, even if you are a nerd who gets pedicures -”

“- I was coerced! The massage chair!” You giggled. “Alright, alright, walk me through tomorrow.”

At this point, Bradley was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, while you were tucked under his arm, peering up at him. 

“We should leave by six if our flight’s at eight forty-five, especially if we want to go to the lounge beforehand. It’s spring break-ish and I’m not sure if it’ll be crazy in the terminal, so the lounge might be a good idea.”

“Got it, United lounge for breakfast, good.” 

“Flight’s like three hours.”

“Mmmmm, perfect for a nap.”

You chuckled. “I think we get in around one o’clock with the time difference and everything. The hotel’s sending a car and then it’s like an hour drive to Punta Mita.”

“So, if we play our cards right, we could be on the beach by three-o-one?”

“Oh, for sure,” you feigned seriousness, “If anyone can, it’s the two of us.”

And ain’t that the truth? Bradley held his hand up for a high five, which you heartily returned. “Nice job, kid. It’s gonna be great.”

Ten days. You and Bradley at some tony resort in Mexico. No cares, no worries for ten whole days. Fucking perfect. 

Everything was going to be perfect.

-----------

If at all possible, in the three months that he had been gone, Bradley had gotten even more handsome. 

Sure, you’d seen a grainy image of him every two or so weeks over Facetime and had noticed him mentioning going to the gym a lot on the carrier. You’d known he was going to look different. His hair was going to be longer and blonder and his skin darker. He was still your Bradley and you loved him all the same. 

But seeing him on the 16 inch screen of your Macbook compared to all six foot one inches of Bradley Bradshaw in person was an eye opener. 

Because you hadn’t been prepared for how it made you feel in comparison. Because he was so strong and fit and beautiful - and you didn’t think you were any of those things. Not anymore at least. Not after what happened.

Not after how often you’d been skipping pilates to spend some extra time in the office or all the meals you’d eaten on the go or out with clients. You should have taken your mother’s words to heart at lunch two weeks ago when she had told you to watch your figure, boys like Bradley are used to certain standards. 

That afternoon when you’d gotten back to your apartment, you’d gone straight to your walk-in closet and scrutinized every inch of your body in the full length mirror. 

Certain standards.

Why did you let her get in your head? Why did you let any of it get in your head? It wasn’t true, it wasn’t true. None of it was true. 

Certain standards. 

And then, when you finally picked Bradley up on that cloudy, late March day, you wore an oxford of his and a pair of baggy jeans. You still looked cute, you still looked like you put in an effort, but you didn’t look as dolled up as some of the other wives and girlfriends and partners and maybe you should have? Maybe you should have worn a cute little sundress and forgotten your underwear or some other ridiculous thing? Let him fuck you in the back of the car right in the middle of the parking lot? 

That wasn’t you, though. That wasn’t either of you.

But Bradley loved you. He had told you in about 159 different ways (re. emails) while he was gone. He loved you, he wanted you, he was going to live with you, build a life with you. You knew he loved you no matter what you looked like. 

Certain standards.

But when he fucked you softly and slowly that first morning back - only after originally falling asleep on you, which you tried not to be too upset about - and you told him how much you loved him and missed him, you did so with the lights completely off and with your chemise on before snuggling in his arms. 

It was stupid. The entire thing was stupid. You knew that. And you knew you’d feel this way until you confronted Bradley and he ultimately proved you wrong. But doing that wouldn’t fully stop those feelings from brewing inside you either. 

And yeah, for the first few days you’d been too caught up in the ecstasy of him finally being home - in the home that you two finally shared - to really give it much thought. But tomorrow you were going on a ten day long beach vacation to Mexico and you couldn’t help but toss and turn all night wondering if you were up to certain standards. 

-----------

a/n: oops! this was super long, sorry! but there's such an interesting story here and i'm so excited to show how it'll unfold in the next chapter when they're in mexico!

tagging a couple people: @sometimesanalice @withahappyrefrain @cherrycola27 @notroosterbradshaw @gigisimsonmars @pisupsala @dissonannce @laracrofted @heartsofminds @briseisgone

[lostinlovingrevery]

Skinnydipping (18+ Only!)

Logan X F!Reader

Plot: You're bored, and you decided to go bug Logan on a hot day

A/N: I actually had this idea in my head FOREVER. This is the first time writing smut, so pls forgive for any inaccuracies. I actually had fun with it! but I feel I still need some work on describing a scene with so much movement happening. You could technically imagine any Logan, but I pictured the X! movies Logan. Comments/critiques welcome and appreciated!

Warnings: Friends-to-Lovers type style, Smut, Unprotected PiV, slight voyeurism, nudity, sex in a lake (watch out for STIs!), it's sorta dubious consent but readers been horny for him for awhile and very eagerly accepts it. Not proofread and I also wrote this in one go.

Word Count: 2996

It was an unusually hot spring day at Xavier's School for the Gifted. The air held a certain dryness that was usually felt in deep July, and the sun was annoyingly bright. It was Saturday, most of the students had gone home to be with their parents, and the ones that stayed here were taken on a field trip by the other professors to a local planetarium. You had some work to finish up, so you stayed behind in your study. It was just you, and Mr.No-Fun Wolverine, who didn’t go either because he didn’t feel like babysitting. 

You were tired of having sat in your study most of the morning. You were almost done with your work and figured you could finish it up in the evening or on Sunday. It was one of the most rare moments you ever had in school- time alone.

Except you weren’t planning to spend it alone.

You left behind your study, your work, to hunt down Logan. Something had crawled in your bones and urged you to go annoy the hell out of him. Your favorite activity. Despite it being a huge mansion, it wasn’t hard to find him- sitting in the living room, watching some old movie you’d probably seen before but couldn’t really care about to remember the name of. What you focused on was the swirl of smoke coming from his hand.  

“Y’know, you aren’t supposed to be smoking in here.” Your voice made him turn his head, giving you a side glance, just to acknowledge you. He purely grunted in response, turning his head back to the tv as he took another long- almost as if he was being obnoxious- puff of his cigar. You walked around the couch to face the front of him, and his eyes tracked you, as he took his time blowing the smoke past his lips, another obnoxious move to rub in your face that he just didn’t care. He leaned back on the couch, spreading his legs in some kind of display of dominance that didn’t really deter you from backing down. It merely just turned you on. 

“Ain’t no one here to complain bub.” He finally says, eyes leaving you and turning back to the tv. You weren’t going to take that though. You moved to step in front of the tv, blocking his view. You crossed your arms. 

“I’m here.” You challenged yourself. “It stinks Logan. Seriously.” 

“I’ll light a candle.” 

“That’ll just make it worse.” 

He shrugged, showing you he didn’t consider it his problem. “You’re blocking my light doll.” He mutters. You kept your spot, arms still crossed, and eyebrow quirked upwards as if questioning if he was going to do anything about it. He looked at you, and finally he gave in, leaning forward, he stubbed the cigar out on the ashtray that he likely had stashed in his room and brought out here, looking at you with his brow drawn together and his lips pursed together in displeasure. You actually could have cared less if he smoked, the stench of cigars had become a welcome smell- because that’s what he smelled like and it had grown comforting to you. Like you felt earlier- you just wanted to annoy him. You could never actually do that though, because he was too fond of you to ever actually be annoyed with you in any shape or form.

You and Logan were close. You were the only person who challenged him when he’d forget his manners and become rough around the edges. You’ve kept him in check since he’s come to the school. You also were the only person who’s truly taken the time to get to know him. You saw beneath the rough exterior, the raised hackles, and the bared fangs- something everyone else saw as aggression, you saw it as self-defense. You broke through his stone-like exterior, his foolhardy confidence, and his flirty way of pushing people away, and found a man who simply was lost in the world, lost in who he was. You found him to be intelligent, compassionate and has a great penchant for being a sweetheart if you just gave him time. To put it simply, you loved him to pieces, for the man he is. He, on the other hand, has been too damn stubborn to let himself experience any joy of being loved and cared for. You knew he felt the same though, you saw the way his eyes would lighten up when he saw you in the kitchen in the mornings, how he would relax when you’d join the X-men meetings and sit next to him, the gentle way he’d touch your shoulder or hand- as if afraid he was going to hurt you. Whatever it was you guys had going on between you, it was being completely unspoken and frankly you were growing impatient. At first, you believed that Logan simply needed time to adjust- then he would make a move. Now though, you think it’s you that needs to make the move. Logan has an incredible ability to be self-destructive and shut himself out from the world. Even if you see the yearning he has in his eyes in front of you right now, you’re not sure he’d ever do anything, purely for the sake that he believes you deserve better.

You know what you want though, and by God you’re going to get it. 

Logan, has met his match in someone equally as bull-headed as he is. 

“Thank you.” You say dropping your arms to your side, and moving away from the tv. You walked over to him, and grabbed his hand. “C’mon.”

“What?” 

“Let's go for a walk.” 

“It’s hot outside bub.” He pulled his arm back, making you groan dramatically. 

“I’ve been cooped up all morning. I wanna go take a hike by the lake.” You say grabbing his hand again, this time succeeding in pulling him off the couch. You knew you’d never be able to actually lift him- as heavy as he is- but he’d just hate to see you struggle. You smiled at him victoriously as he rolled his eyes and sighed just as dramatic as your groan. 

“Fine.” He mutters. He can say no to you once. Twice though? How could he when he’s looking straight into your pretty little eyes, looking so pleadingly at him. 

You did a little dance in victory, a small wiggle of your hips- his eyes couldn’t help catch sight of, as you held onto his hand and pulled him with you as you made your way to the front door, outside in the heat, and down the familiar path that you’ve walked with Logan plenty of times before- whenever either of you just needed to get out together, and talk, towards the lake somewhere on the estate of the school. 

Your walk had started out silent, side by side, your hands brushing against each other. If it wasn’t so hot, you’d actually be clinging to him- you’d hook your arm around his, you’d lean your side against him- he didn’t mind, he was tall and sturdy, and the weight of you pressed against him was grounding. Now though, even though you urged to be near him, the hot sun pushed a space between you. 

Half way on the walk, that’s when you started complaining. “Ugh, it’s WAY too hot for April.”

“Told ya.” he mutters. He glanced at you, and you were tugging on the hem of your neckline, pulling back and forth to allow some air, showing the cleavage of your breast, enough to make him get some dirty thoughts. Something something- licking the sweat off your skin… His eyes darted away from you. 

There was tension building between you both. Something that had been building a long time, you- you didn’t like leaving things unresolved. 

Reaching the lake, you both slowed your pace to enjoy the scenery and the nature around there. Logan wouldn’t admit it, but he enjoyed these walks with you. He enjoyed the ones that were filled with comfortable silence, and the ones where you both couldn’t stop talking, it was rare to get him into a conversation, but you had a way of drawing it out of him. You’d talk about everything from politics, religion, his history, your history, the universe, how bad Scott and Jean's cooking was.  

This walk would be no different, if it wasn’t for your complaining.

“I told you it was hot.” He states again, “But you wanted to go out.” 

“Well excuse me for wanting to stretch my legs, get some fresh air.” You say, glancing at the lake. It looked cool, refreshing. That’s when you get an idea. 

“There’s a whole mansion full of stuff to do-” He says as he keeps walking, He picks up that you stopped, no longer next to him anymore, “Bub?” He turned around, his face dropping as he watched you shed your last item of clothing, and began to run into the water. Once you were up to your knees, you dived in- creating a splash of water that sent waves rippling towards the shore where he stood. His eyes trailed over to where you left your clothes behind, and blood rushed straight down, stirring his cock. 

You popped your head up above the water, your location now deeper into the lake, having to kick your legs to keep you afloat, and you waved at him. He swallowed, as he pictured your naked form- having only gotten a glance of it before you disappeared into the water. His cock throbbed in the confines of his jeans. 

Fuck it

He thought to himself, as he moved to shed his own clothes. You had turned around, swimming small laps in circles, dipping your head underwater to refresh yourself, feeling the inner temperature of your body cooling off. You didn’t notice him taking his clothes off- you somehow didn’t hear him over your splashing as he quietly swam towards you. 

So when his arm came around your waist, turning you and pulling you against him, you shrieked at first. Only to gasp as your breasts came pressed against his chest, the feeling of his coarse hair stimulating your nipples that had become hard from the cold of the water. He barely gave you a chance to catch up to what was happening as his lips crashed down onto yours, making you moan as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. You relaxed your legs from kicking, able to rely on Logan who’s already so freakishly tall, was still standing as the water lapped at his shoulders. You marveled at the feeling of his muscled body against yours, his strong arms wrapped around you, god you spent forever imaging him like this.

He nipped at your lips, moving down into your jaw, sucking and biting at the skin there, while his hands ran up and down over your body. One hand pressed to your lower back, the other ran up your thigh, warming your skin that had grown cold from the water temperature, he pressed the hand under your thigh, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his hips- which you eagerly obliged. He groaned,

“You’re gonna be the death of me, bub-” He muttered as he pressed kisses down your neck, “Being a fucking tease like that. You were planning this the entire time weren’t you?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, not responding to his question, as his beard delightfully scratched at the skin of your collarbone. You brought your hands up into his hair, running it through the wet strands and scratching at his scalp gently- making him moan in response. You tipped your head back and raised your hips, softly grinding against his lower abdomen, really also urging him to put his lips on your chest. His mouth sucked and licked the skin of your breast, his hand coming up to fondle and squeeze the nipple of the other, as he twirled his tongue over one, making you moan- a warm, syrupy honey feeling sat in the bottom of your stomach- but it wasn’t enough. 

“Logan-” You whined, your hands tightening through his hair. 

“I know, I got you baby.” He murmured against your skin, right over the place where your heart is located. Adjusting the both of you, he brought his lips back to yours, pressing a few small pecks against them, as he ran his throbbing member between your folds, making you gasp at the sheer size of him. 

“Fuck, you’re big.” You whimpered into his lips, shutting your eyes tight, you could feel him smile against your cheek. 

“You can take it.” He purred soothingly into your ear.

The resistance of the water against your bodies forced you both to be slow. As fast as Logan wanted to fuck into you, he was forced to take his time, as he wrapped an arm around your waist, using his other hand to lead his tip into your entrance. The water provided a natural lubricant for you, although you wouldn’t have needed it, even before now, Logan just had this amazing ability to soak your panties through, unlike anyone else. 

You felt him enter, and gasped, practically a squeal as he pushed into you- music to his ears.

“That’s right-” He moaned. “Make all the pretty sounds you want gorgeous, I got you.” as he pushed deeper inside you, a small thrust of his hips, and he was down to the hilt inside you. Your cunt was tight around him, almost molding around his length, making him grunt as he had to take a moment to not bust inside you right then.

“Oh god-” You gasped, pressed your forehead against his. His nose bumping clumsily against yours, as you felt his own breath began to pick up. His hands moved down to your hips, he dug his fingers into your plush skin, attempting to get as much leverage as he could, before he lifted you up in the water,

It felt like slow motion, the way the lake pushed at you both, as if it was reminding you to slow down, and savor the moment between you. His hands pushed down on your hips, his movements fighting at the water, as he brought you back down onto him again. He continued those movements, angling his hips forward under the water, digging his feet into the sandy ground he stood on. Once he found a steady pace, an angle that sent you squealing, wrapping your thighs tight against his hips, your hands digging almost painfully into your scalp, he kept going. 

“Been wanting to do this for fucking ever baby-” He grunted. 

“Lo-” You whimpered. Every thrust hit that sweet spot inside of you. He glided easily in and out, his hips bouncing against yours, but you wanted him deeper. You spread your legs- your thighs open farther, the water allowing you to easily loosen your limbs and float, his grip on you keeping you close. You gripped onto his shoulders, tipping your head back. Your upper half of your body came out of the water with each thrust, and Logan watched- hypnotized by how your wet tits bounced, and he felt heat pooling inside him. You were so fucking perfect. Everything about you, your face, your lips, your tits and ass. Your personality, your heart. “Lo please-!” You gasped.

“Fuck-” He grunted, bringing a hand to your throbbing clit, as he begin to rub tight circles against it, sending your hips squirming against his. “That’s it, take it all-” He moaned. “Feel good darling?”

You nodded desperately, finally getting that stimulation you needed, as you quickly brought your body back to him, desperate to feel him everywhere as you began to rise to your peak. “Don’t stop, please don’t-” You begged, as you placed open mouth kisses on his lips that he returned. 

“Cmon, cum for me-” He grunted. His thighs were shaking, and he was unsure he’d be able to hold out much longer. He wanted you to cum first, he needed you to cum first. He wanted to see you come undone by him, to feel your cunt pulse and squeeze him so tightly he couldn’t pull out if he tried. “Fuck, fuck, I love you-” He practically whined into your mouth. 

That was exactly what you needed, as you felt your explosive finish finally reach your peak. You screamed his name as your legs wrapped around him, and you buried your face into his neck, moaning and crying as waves of hot ecstasy ran through your body. You cupped his face with one hand.

“I love- I love you too-” You managed to gasp, looking up at him in his eyes. It filled you with a certain pride, as you watched Logan's face become undone, as he thrusted up into you, you could feel his cock throb, and his cum coating your walls inside, making you feel full, and warm. He practically whimpered, carefully pulling out, as he held onto you, his head resting against your shoulder. 

“Fuck, sorry.” He muttered,

“It’s alright, I really don’t mind.” You hum amused. You would have told him to finish inside anyway. 

He sighed, looking up at you. His eyes were filled with adoration as he looked over your face. You smiled, cupping his jaw, leaning forward to give him a sweet kiss, that he happily returned. 

“Feel better?” He asked, a cheeky grin on his face. You rolled your eyes.”You got out, got some air, stretched your legs.”

“Shut up!” You playfully hit his shoulder, pretending to pull away from him, but he didn’t let you go, pulling you back into his arms as he wrapped them around you protectively. 

“Uh uh, you ain’t going anywhere bub.” He purred. “Now that I got you, I ain’t letting you go.”

“It’s about time…” You smiled, muttering against his lips, but he only smiled. You were wrong, Logan did end up making the first move. Turns out, you just needed to keep being a pain in his ass. 

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I Know You? Part 8

Jason Todd x Reader

Synopsis: You get Chili dogs with Jason.

Notes: I have been watching far too many biker couples on TikTok and I think it shows. I am trying to slowly drag out some of Jason's slightly strange qualities (because he was dead after all). Also, he may or may not have gotten horny for a couple of seconds, I don’t know what happened. This chapter is super sweet with a little bit of continuation of our miscommunication from the last chapter. Enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

You woke up early the next day (Unnecessarily early) and got ready. You tried to focus on how calm you felt after Red Hood helped you prep so you didn’t get overly anxious again. At noon, you began the trek to Jackie’s. It was earlier than needed, but you didn’t want to be late. As it turned out you weren’t the only one anxious about being late. Jason was already there, sitting at one of the patio tables, tapping on his phone. You really needed to get his phone number.

“Hey there Stranger,” you say just as you hear his phone quietly say Delicious! You stifle a laugh and keep your face composed. If he’s surprised to see you early, he doesn’t show it.

“Are you playing Candy Crush?” you ask as you settle next to him to glance at his phone. He meets your eye when he speaks.

“How’d you know?”

“Your sounds on?” you ask confused. Jason always seemed like a conscious person, always aware of what was going on around him. You didn’t take him for someone to leave the sound on his phone.

“Is that bad?” He asks and you find his tone genuine. It makes you want to furrow your brows in confusion. Sometimes you were seriously socially inept but even you know it was more courteous to mute your phone when you didn’t need the sound, like when playing a game.

“It's not fabulous,” you respond, “you can mute the sound in the game, so you don’t have to turn the sound off on your phone.” You help him finish his level and then help him find the settings in the app to turn off the sound. You get a strange sense that Jason isn’t used to a smartphone. You feel the same way you feel when you help your mom or dad with their phones; they have no clue how to handle it. With the sound of the game muted, he goes to slide his phone into his pocket. You figure now is a better time than any.

“Wait,” he pauses, “can we exchange numbers?” you ask. You see a look cross his face that you can’t decipher but he nods and hands you his phone unlocked. You shuffle a little closer so he can still see the screen as you add in your contact and send a quick text to yourself. As you hand him his phone back you realize how close you are, warm shoulder pressed to yours. You pull back and quickly stand.

“Hot dogs?” you ask. He rhythmically taps the corner of his phone against his leg as he watches you in the way he always does. That way that makes your heart beat faster and your breath catch in your throat. In that way, you still don’t know whether or not it makes you uncomfortable. He finally nods and stands. You take a deep breath now that he’s not watching you, but it doesn’t last long as his hand gently pushes you forward towards his bike.

There’s a leather jacket you’ve never seen on him before draped across the seat along with two helmets.

“Ever ridden on a motorcycle before?” He asks while he hands you a helmet. You take it and absentmindedly answer.

“Once, not with a helmet though.” You turn it in your hands. It's bulky and you understand how this could save a life.

“You should always wear a helmet, Sweetheart.” He reprimands and you playfully glare at him for the tone. He just rolls his eyes and nudges your helmet.

“Put it on.” He says as he slides his own on. You watch intently to make sure you’ll do it right, ignoring a certain rattling jar in the corner of your mind. You mimic him, sliding the helmet over your head and you’re shocked by how much sound becomes muffled. You knock the side of the helmet with your fist to listen to how loud it would be. You see Jason squint at you where his visor has been moved up and you think he's smiling.

“Is that it? You just put it on?” you ask patting where your cheeks would be. His helmet subtlely shakes in no motion.

“Not even close” he pulls the jacket off the bike, and you should have thought about how weird it was considering he was already wearing his usual black leather jacket. He shakes the jacket out and holds it up so you can slide into it. It’s a nice brown and too large for you. You think it might be familiar but you're not sure why. You pull at the collar and try to pull up the sleeves with no success despite the leather creased from being rolled up before. You huff at them and turn to Jason to ask for help. He stares at you differently than he usually does. You can’t see the rest of his face, but his eyes are focused on the jacket resting on you.

“Little big don’t you think?” his eyes snap up and meet yours and you wish you knew what he was thinking.

“It’s the only other one I have, sorry” He takes a step closer and his hand curls around the bottom of your helmet pulling you forward. You stumble a little and your hands land on his waist, fingers curling onto the fabric of his jacket as you steady yourself. Your eyes widen and you're about to ask him what the hell he’s doing when he pushes your chin up. Your neck bends awkwardly and you feel his hands moving under your chin, and then you feel the fabric.

Straps. There was a chin strap on the helmet. He was doing it for you. Your fingers tighten slightly in his jacket as you stare at the sky. Once he’s finished, he pulls your head back straight with the chin of the helmet. Your eyes meet his, still wide and you realize you had stopped breathing. You suck in a shaky breath as he watches you. His hands come to rub at your arms as he speaks.

“Sorry, Sorry, I’m almost done,” he says in a calming manner as he pulls your hands from his jacket and takes a step back only to lean forward and grab at the hem of the jacket you’re wearing. He fits the teeth to the zipper and pulls it up. You stand there, unsure, fists clenching at your side. You wish you would say something, but you don’t know what. Even if you did have something to say, you don’t think you could over the lump of emotion in your throat. He stands straight and gives you a once-over with a nod. Your hands meet in front of you as you fiddle with the sleeves of the jacket. After a second, he steps close again tapping at the side of your helmet.

“Everything comfortable? Nothing too tight?” He asks. You stare at the collar of his shirt because you’re not sure what you’ll do if you meet his eye again. You nod your head as he asks and then shake it. He pauses a moment, and you can feel him watching you the way he usually does, and for once it makes you comfortable instead of unsure. He proceeds to give you a rundown of bike safety about leaning and bracing. He gets on the bike to demonstrate, and you try to stay focused on what he’s talking about, mind straying only briefly to less appropriate thoughts.

“I think that’s it. You ready?” he asks as he starts the bike.

You finally find your voice as you nod, “Yeah I’m ready.” You don’t think he can hear you over the bike, but he pats the seat behind him and then sticks out his hand. You take it and follow his instructions from earlier. Placing one foot on the peg and swinging your leg over the seat, your hand in his steadying yourself. You finally let go sitting upright on the bike. He pats your thigh and then does a thumbs-up. You mimic him in his line of sight, and he grabs your hand and pulls it around his waist. His other hand reaches behind him to hold your other hand to meet the first hand. He pats your hands there and you lightly rub at his chest. He revs the bike, and your hold tightens despite the bike not moving. You feel his body shake slightly and you think he’s laughing at you before he finally pulls out onto the street.

Jason was, for lack of better terms, losing it. He had told himself last night that this wasn’t a date, but damn did feel like one. He couldn’t help himself. Blame it on being dead during his late teen years, but sometimes he felt extremely out on social cues. He was going to let you do up the jacket and helmet. Honestly, he was! But then you stood there in his Red Hood jacket (it was the only other one he had) and it was like he was possessed. To be fair last night’s Robe debacle didn’t help, what with your pretty legs on display. Now with you in his jacket, he could make a semi-complete picture in his mind and it was not family friendly. To help tamp down any urges that would be unsavory in public, he chose to be close to you instead, which did not help as much as he thought it would. Your wide eyes and grasp on his jacket almost made him pull the helmet right off you and kiss you senseless. He realigned his focus on buckling the helmet. But then he met your eyes, still wide and you breathed like that. All those thoughts dropped from his mind. He worried he was making you uncomfortable, so he took a step back to give you some space but still helped you with the jacket. He weighed your anxious stepping and fidgeting as he watched you for a moment and he realized you hadn’t said anything the entire time.

Jason had been watching you waitress at Jackie's for a while (he hated to admit it) and you were never afraid of putting some douchebag hitting on you in their place. He expected you to do the same thing to him but now you just looked nervous, and he remembered the mess you had been in the night before.  You thought this might be a date and he doesn’t think he's helping with that. He needed to tone it down. But then you were on the bike, and you had to hold onto him, so he showed you and you rubbed his chest. He could melt into a puddle.

Focus, he told himself, you have to drive. He took his time, not wanting to scare you. Easy on the turns and no racing. You handled it like a champ, relaxing into the ride a few minutes in. You must not get out of your little area of Gotham much because you would tap his helmet and point to random things that found your interest always with one hand on his stomach. Once Robinson Park came into view, he found some parking and you didn’t let go of him until the bike was turned off, hesitating even then. He offered his hand again and helped you off the bike. He followed suit, pulling his helmet off and shaking his hair out. Once he was done, you took a step forward and tipped your head back, practically bouncing on your toes. He watches you confused. After a moment, you stop bouncing and drop your head back down. You push the visor up on the helmet so he can see your eyes.

“Will you undo the strappy things?” You asked happily. Your eyes practically glittered with excitement, at least the parts he could see from your squinting grin. He hadn’t made you uncomfortable then. He nods slowly and you tip your head back again. He pulls the zipper of the jacket down slightly, entirely selfish because it gave him a nice view of your exposed neck (he feels a moment of disguise for himself for the thoughts he has just about your neck but that slips away as you hop incessantly). He quickly undoes the strap and steps out of your bubble so you can pull the helmet. Your hair is a mess of static flyaway, but you have the giddiest grin he’s ever seen on your face, with a sense of childish glee. You balance the helmet on the seat of the bike and attempt to pat down your hair as you speak.

“That was nice.” You say still grinning.

“Based on your grin, I’d say it was a little more than just nice, Sweetheart,” you laugh at his comment, and he joins.

“Okay, it was…Exhilarating. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.” you shyly admit. Your anxious habits slowly leak back into your body, grin dampening. Your excited hop melds into a more subtle stepping and your hands come up to fidget with the zipper of the jacket. You unzip it the rest of the way, showcasing your meticulously chosen shirt. You were right. He would see it and it was nice. He was right too. The leather did pull the outfit together.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” He pauses for a second, unsure if he should comment on your outfit (This was NOT a date.) but he can’t help it. He was proud of the joint effort it took to dress you, as weird as that sounded.

“I like your shirt, it’s a good color on you.” Your normal soft smile shows itself and you press your cheek to your shoulder for a second.

“You think so? I wasn’t so sure about it” Thank god for vigilante skills because the look of confusion that almost crossed his face would have led to an interesting conversation. You seemed like you had liked it last night. After the many shirts you had run through, he had pulled that one last (selfishly because it was the closest thing to red you owned) and you had quickly chosen it. He decided not to think too hard about it, considering the whole keeping shirts you don’t like conversation and because you were staring at him. You were staring at him the way he stares at you, and he quickly decides he doesn’t like it.

“I know so, now Chili dog?” you nod in response as you slip your hands into the pockets of his your jacket.

“Lead the way, oh connoisseur of hot dog stands.” He snorts and dramatically offers his elbow to you.

“Right this way, M’lady,” he says with a grin.

You pull your hand from the pocket and curl your fingers into the crook of his elbow. You’re quiet as he pulls you down the street. This walk feels different than your usual walks. The weather was decent enough when you left your apartment, it's why you had opted not to bring your own sweater. Now though, you were happy Jason had brought a jacket and that he was letting you stand so close to him. His warmth seeps into you, fending off the drop in temperature. You worry you're extremely unprepared as you see clouds gather in the sky. Your worrying is cut short as Jason pulls you into a short line at an unassuming hot dog cart.

“What's so special about this guy's hot dogs?” You ask passively as you stand on your tiptoes to look around someone's shoulder, you lean away from Jason but keep your hold on his elbow to balance yourself. You feel him shift slightly and when you turn back to him, he’s already watching you.

“Antonio is the definition of Gotham’s survivors. He used to be a goon for Two Face, just trying to take care of his family.” You cut in before he can continue.

“Goon?” you question, the term feeling strange on your tongue.

“Right, you’re not from Gotham. It's like a lackey or employee, I guess? The point is he was working for Two-Face. Anyways when you’re working for two bosses, and you don’t know which one you’re talking to… let's just say you're more likely to end up with a bullet in your head.” Your lip quirks in disgust at his phrasing but you know it’s the truth.

“He decided it wasn’t worth it, so he chose to do something better.”

“A hot dog stand? While I appreciate the life story, it doesn’t explain why he’s the best hot dog stand.” You don’t get an answer as you finally make it to the front of the line.

“Eh, my boy Jason! How you been, kid?” Antonio says. If you thought Darla’s Gotham accent was thick, you were wrong. It took you a few seconds to decipher what he was saying with how fast he spoke. Jason, however, had no issues.

“Doin’ just fine, Antonio. How about you? How’re the kids?” he asked. You were a little startled. You knew Jason grew up in Gotham, he told you that himself, but it wasn’t obvious until this moment. The man suddenly had an accent you had never heard from him. You stare at him as he talks to Antonio and orders. He pays and takes the Chili dogs. You're pretty sure that they had briefly talked about you, but you were still in shock. Jason nudges you to walk and you nearly trip over yourself.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he says amused, and leads you to a bench. You sit down next to him and continue to stare at him incredulously. He offers you the hot dog, but you just continue to stare.

“Something on my face?”

“Who are you?” you blurt out.”

“What?” A look of startled panic crosses his features.

“What do you mean ‘what’? I have never heard you speak like that! That was a whole other person.”

“What are you talking about?” He seems genuinely confused but you have sudden distrust for him.

“What am I talking about? I’m talking about your sudden accent that is conveniently gone now, by the way.” You say finally taking the hot dog from him. He’s quiet for a moment, brows drawn in a thoughtful expression.

“I’m going to be completely honest with you,” he speaks slowly, “I had no idea I did that. Now that you mention it, I guess I do change the way I speak around certain people. Sorry.”

“Don’t take it personally,” you shrug, “It just really threw me off. I didn’t expect it. So, this is a Gotham Chili dog?” you look down at it in your hand. It wasn't quite what you had pictured. It had chili on it but also had peppers and onions on top of that and what honestly looked like a French fry.

“This feels excessive.” You add.

“The best of Jersey and Chili dogs all on one. Try it.” He looks at you expectantly.

“Don’t watch me, that’s weird.” You chide nervously.

“Fine,” he grins, “together?” He picks up his chili dog. You nod and join him.

You wish you could that he was right. That it was about the cart and the person making the chili dog. That this was the best thing you had ever tasted. But that would make you a liar. Your face twinges as you bite into the hot dog and try to chew slowly before swallowing it harshly. You rub your lips together preparing to face Jason with sad news. Maybe you could fake it. Your eyes meet his as you swallow nothing trying to force down a gag. You give him a closed-mouth smile. You’re a worse actress than you thought because he barks out a laugh. It takes him a minute before settling down.

“That bad, huh?”

“I’m so sorry,” the guilt genuine on your features, “I just can’t do it.”

He offers you a spoon from nowhere, “then scrap it off, unless you want me to get you a new hot dog.” You stare at the spoon. You had the feeling he knew you weren’t going to like it, considering he was prepared. You take the spoon gingerly, an unnamed emotion growing in your chest.

“I’ll just scrap it off.” You start scraping the chili into the paper dish it had come in.

“Are you sure?” he ducks down slightly trying to catch your eye, “I can buy a regular one.”

You glance at him, “It’s okay, you already paid for this one and you were ready with a spoon. I have all I need.” You lightly bump your shoulder against his and it seems to reassure him enough as he goes back to eating. The hot dog cleared off, and you ate it leisurely watching the clouds from earlier turn darker. You’re pretty sure it’s going to rain (shocking for Gotham). Food finished Jason collects your trash and throws it away. He follows your line of sight.

“We should head back. Ready for the ride?” He asks. You perk back up at the thought of his bike. A proud smile graces his features for a moment, and he offers his hand. You take it and he pulls you up just as you feel a drop of cold water on your face, a light sprinkle of rain begins. Jason doesn’t hesitate to tug you by your hand into a jog to his bike. In a matter of minutes, the sprinkle has turned into a straight downpour. Bike in sight, Jason drags you under a nearby weeping willow. The rain is lighter and softer but still coming through. You pause there to catch your breath. At that moment, you feel Jason's hand in yours, warm and sturdy. You don’t want to let go. Not that he was trying to pull away anyway.

“You okay?” he asks as his other hand attempts to brush off the water on your borrowed jacket. With no success, his hand moves to push your wet hair out of your face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say still breathless, fighting the urge to lean into his touch. His eyes scan over your face and the tips of his fingers brush against your cheek before he pulls his hand away.

“I’m going to go grab the helmets. I’ll be right back.” He shouts over the rain.

“Is it safe to be on a bike in this?” you ask before he leaves. He smirks.

“Don’t worry, Baby. I’m a safe driver.” The warmth of him and his hand leaves you in a hurried run. Your heart does a hop, skip, and a jump before your nerves come back to you.

He called you Baby. Maybe this is a date.

You don’t have long to worry because he’s back with the helmets. You're quick to put the helmet on your head, hiding your face out of fear of what he might see. You zip up your jacket, tugging at the collar trying to shield your neck from the cold. You feel around blindly for the straps of the helmet and attempt to put them together. You can feel Jason watching you as you try to do up yourself. You give up quickly and he doesn’t hesitate to step forward. You wonder if he was thinking about how he called you baby like you were.

Jason was not only thinking about how he called you baby, he was panicking. He was supposed to be toning it down not dialing it! It just slipped and then he ran away before he could see your reaction, which was not a good plan. Jason disliked this very much. He wasn’t used to being unsure about something. He was a planner. He always knew where he stood and what he was doing but with you, it was like he short-circuited. It didn’t help that his experience with romance was not a lot. And the people he witnessed in relationships were also not great. Superheroes, criminals, serial daters. Not exactly a guiding light in this department. Antonio didn’t help earlier either, calling you Jason’s girl. But you had been so shocked by his accent that you didn’t hear that or how flustered he became over it. He just needed to get you home, safe and sound. Then he could worry about it later. He did up your helmet and then shouted through his helmet and the rain.

“Let’s make a break for it!” He wasn’t sure you could hear him, but you nodded so he assumed you had. He took off for the bike sliding on and turning it on. You didn’t wait for him to offer his hand this time, using his shoulder to balance as you slid onto the seat behind him. You wrap your arms around him, patting his chest and giving him a thumbs up. He drives out onto the street. He tries to take his time with the slick roads but doesn’t want you to get a cold. He contemplates just pulling up to your apartment but then you might act like you lived further down the street again and he didn’t want you in the rain. So, he pulled up to Jackie’s where you had met. You hop off the bike and he is quick to follow, dragging you into the coffee shop. He helps with the helmet again and you both sit at his usual booth. You have that glimmer in your eyes again, and he notes that you like riding on his bike.

 Just as he’s about to offer to buy you something warm his phone rings. If this is Dick calling again… He doesn’t finish the thought as he fishes out his phone. You eye him curiously. Barbara. That can’t be good. She only ever calls Jason during daylight if it’s an emergency. He excuses himself from the table and answers the phone.

“Where are you?” She asks before he can say hello.

“Couple blocks from the Narrows. What’s up?” he responds.

“How fast could you make it to the Bowery?”

“20 minutes if I’m careful, 10 if I’m not”

“Don’t be careful”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oracle out” she hangs up and Jason turns to find you at the table looking out the window, admiring the rain. Despite your current drenched cat look, you look gorgeous with the warm glow of the coffee shop and still wrapped in his jacket. He really didn’t want to leave you but, evidently, it was an emergency. He returns to the table but doesn’t sit, rapping his knuckles against the table gently to get your attention. You turn to look at him and the urge to stay grows ten times.

“Work called, I gotta go. It’s an emergency” A slight pout overtakes your lips, but you nod.

“You need your jacket back.” You start to unzip the material, but he stops you.

“Just hold onto it til I see next, okay?” you concede with another nod. He taps the table one more time. He really had to go.

“Text me when you get home, please?” He had wanted to walk you home like a gentleman, but this would have to do.

“I will, I will. Go, you have an emergency.” You shoo him with a smile., “And thank you for a lovely day, Jason. I enjoyed myself.”

“I did too, Sweetheart,” he takes a step from the table, “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” And then he's out the door with both the helmets and on his way to deal with whatever idiot dragged him away from you.

Additional note: They getting closer and moves are almost happening but they are both disasters. Thank you for reading! If you are reading this before Sunday (January 12 CST) please go do the poll for the next chapter. It currently looks like a darker chapter may be on our horizon.

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (11)

originally posted on my old account. Re uploading twice weekly :)

The days resumed as normal. Leah stayed for a few days, making sure I was okay. Keira was there everyday, Claudia and Patri would come for a few hours too, but the one person that I wanted to have there, stopped talking to me. After a week, I was fed up.

It was on a Tuesday, after coffee with Alba, that I truly lost it. Almost 10 days had passed and no matter how many times I rang or texted, Alexia wouldn’t answer. 

“Why is your sister such a pain in my ass?” I huffed as I sat down. 

“Well good morning to you gorgeous. Here’s your coffee.” She slid over a steaming cup, “what did she do this time?” 

“More like what she didn’t do.” 

“Okay I’ll bite. Continue.” 

“I told her I loved her too, she stayed the night and then we had a moment at the beach. I thought something was going to happen, and now she won’t even talk to me. At training, in the locker room, hell even at the game she barely spoke to me or came near me. I just don’t know what to do anymore.” 

“Hold on! You love her?” Alba was shocked. 

“Yes Alba. Catch up please.” 

“Jesus Christ. Okay, I’m supposed to go over for dinner tonight. You will go instead.”

“That’s a horrible plan.” 

“What’s the worse she’s going to do? Close the door in your face? She’s not that rude.” 

Begrudgingly I agreed. The only other plan I had was to corner her in the locker room, or hide in her car. Both seemed a little excessive. All I had to do is get through the next 5 hours of training with her. 

It was painful and seemed to drag on and on. My usual options for partners already partnered up with someone else. Claudia with Patri, Keira with Aitana, Lucy with Ona. I even asked the young girls who all gave me sympathetic smiles. There was one person left, the one person who has been working hard to ignore me. 

Alexia and I didn’t talk. Just did the drills as told. The tension was palpable, I just wanted to scream at her, to make her talk to me. Is this how she has felt for all those years? 

“What’s up with you and capi?” Claudia pulled me aside right as training finished. 

“Nothing Clau.” She gave me a look to say ‘I know you’re lying’, “okay I don’t know? I told her I loved her back and things have been weird since.” 

“You should talk to her.” 

“Wow thanks Claudia! I never thought of that.” It came out a lot harsher than I anticipated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bitch.” 

“It’s fine. Whatever you need, I got your back. Always.” With a quick hug she was gone. 

By the time I was home, showered and quickly tidied up it was time to go. I had a stop to make before going to Alexias, as I hated turning up empty handed. Alba was waiting outside when I arrived. 

“Stand over there so she can’t see you on the intercom. Once she buzzes in, go into the elevator, to the 16th floor. It’s apartment 1604, just knock on the door and force your way in.”

“Sounds like a horrible idea. Why did I agree to this.” 

“Just do what I said and it’ll all work out.” Alba sighed. Her plan worked. Alexia buzzed her up straight away. 

Alba left, leaving me to do this alone. The elevator seemed to take forever, trying to remember Albas directions but also trying not to freak out and be angry at Alexia. The elevator stopping at the 16th floor ripped me out of my thoughts. 

1604.

All I had to do was knock. Not that hard. First I needed to calm myself down, slowly walking up and down the hallway taking deep breathes. Before i realised what I was doing, I had knocked. 

“Amelia? What are you doing here?” 

“We need to talk.” I pushed my way in. “Here I got you this.”

“You got me a bottle of water?” She was confused

“Yes. I couldn’t come here empty handed and you don’t drink during the season, and you don’t drink soft drink or juice or anything so water was the best option.” 

She made herself comfortable on her couch, looking up at me expectantly. I was Pacing around her living room, lost in my own head. 

“You’re going to put a hole in my floor Amelia.”

“Why have you been ignoring me?” 

“I haven’t. I’ve been giving you the space you need.” 

“No Alexia! You told me to stop running from you, you begged me to stop and I did. Is this you paying me back for running from you? For breaking your heart? Is that what this is?” 

“What? No!” 

“Then what! Because I told you I loved you for fuck sake. I want to try even though I don’t know how! So tell me Alexia!” Angry tears fell from my eyes, hastily wiping them away. 

“Keira and Leah said I need to give you time and space. To wait for you to come to me. I was just trying to help.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything to me? I thought that day on the beach meant something? I tried to come to you but you wouldn’t let me! For fuck sake.” I turned away from her, deciding it was time to leave but before I could get grabbed my arm, pulling me into her. 

“It did mean something - it does mean something. You’re not leaving. I made dinner for me and Alba but you’re going to sit, we are going to eat, talk, whatever. Then I will drive you home but you’re not leaving Amelia. I will not let you leave.” 

Our bodies were so close, I could feel her heart beat, the warm of her skin, I could see every little freckle on her face, every single thing she would say was imperfect. Her tongue poked out of her mouth, slightly wetting her lips. Her very perfect, kissable lips. 

Without overthinking it, I moved forward, my hands cupping her face, her hands holding my waist. We both leaned in it at the same time. Our lips meeting and fitting like a puzzle piece. It was messy, hot and desperate. She pulled me in closer, trying to get more. We both pulled away from a lack of oxygen. 

“Not the talk I had in mind.” Her forehead resting on mine, a light chuckle came out of my lips. We stayed like that for a moment, afraid of what would happen when we pulled away. It was disrupted by the sound of my stomach. 

“Come. Sit. I made paella.” Alexia ushered me to the dining table. The paella was good, not as good as Eli’s but still good. One of Alexias secret talents was that she could cook, and she’s was good at it. Not many people got to see that side of her, or really any side of her. After we had finished, I took the plates and started to clean, it was the least I could do. 

“Mil, stop. Please. I can deal with them later.”

“It’s fine ale. Just let me do this for you, please.” She didn’t argue after that, just grabbed a tea towel and started drying then packing away the clean dishes. It only took 10 minutes with the both us of until the kitchen was spotless, which would easy some of Alexia’s stress. 

She led me to the lounge room, making me sit on the couch, while she sat on the coffee table, her large hands wrapped around mine. 

“Let’s talk, yes?” She was anxious, but firm. Wanting to get this over and done with. 

“I love you. Really really love you Ale. And I have for as long as I have known you, but it never worked out. When-when I met Emily, she was different to you. She didn’t care what people thought about her, she was free. It felt like a breath of fresh air, and I’m not saying that you need to change or anything because I don’t want that. I just want you to understand.”

“Sí, continúa.” I could practically hear her brain working in over drive. 

“When you and Jenni broke up, Jenni texted me. Telling me that she should’ve ended things with you a long time ago because it was clear you were in love with me and not her. Then you told me you loved me in a romantic way. I freaked out. I drove to fucking Manchester, I basically broke into Keira and Lucy’s house, walking in on them having sex. That was horrific.” I took a deep breath. 

“I thought that I could love Emily as much as I loved you, I had already started falling in love with her, and I knew she loved me. When she proposed I said yes. I wish I didn’t but I did. Then we got married and I didn’t want to invite you. Had you told me not to marry her, I wouldn’t have. I would’ve left with you. Emily realised this. She wrote a letter, the day before she died. She was leaving me because I love you. I had been feeling so shitty about marrying her, making her love me with her whole heart when I couldn’t love her with my whole heart.” Tears started rolling down my face, Ale giving my hand a squeeze. 

“It’s okay. Take your time.” 

“When I got home, she was already hurt. Tied to the chair in front of the TV. I remember the feeling of them grabbing me, the blood running down my face. I remember the screams she let out when they cut my clothes off me or when they, they entered me. She wouldn’t stop screaming and trying to get someone to help so they killed her. But someone heard because I remember hearing sirens after they sliced my back. Then they were gone and she was just sitting there, blood all over her and I couldn’t move. I remember everything, everything that was said at the house, the way some of the police officers vomited outside, the way the ambulance smelt and how fast it went. I remember Keira and Leah screaming outside the hospital room, or Jill holding my hand and talking to me. 

I thought that I would be okay. I was focused on my rehab, the thought of returning to the pitch, to be better, play better for her. Then the funeral happened and the trial. Your mums softness is what broke me. The way she would constantly call me every morning when she was having her coffee, knowing I’d just woken up and was getting ready to go to rehab, or the way she’d find a way to send me paella every Sunday. I don’t know if she told you but I visited her a lot. She made me feel like I was getting better, that things would get better. Then when I saw you at the champions league game, I remembered how much I loved you. How soft but tough your hands were, how fiercely protective you were, everything. And I thought I could try with you.” 

I needed to stop. To compose myself and let it sink in. I could tell Alexia needed a moment too. Her thumb never stopped rubbing over the back of my hand, it was comforting, she was comforting. 

“When we had sex, I wanted to be in control of it and you let me. I didn’t know it would cause me to break but it did. I wasn’t ready for it. Watching you lay there, asleep, cuddled up into me broke my heart because I realised I couldn’t give you more. You deserved more. So I left. The plan was to just go for a few weeks and then come back and talk to you. But those few weeks turned into months, then into years. I would search you on instagram and it seemed like you were doing great without me, so I didn’t come back. I watched your games. All of them. I watched you lose the champions league, watched you win it, watched Spain lose the euros, then win the World Cup. I wanted to reach out when you did your ACL but I couldn’t. You deserved peace during that time. Then I saw you and the girls, and you were dating Olga, who is lovely by the way. She was very sweet. I wasn’t planning on coming back. I was content with the way I was living. Then I saw the open training and decided to come for a bit, not really sure why, but I did. After that I craved to be back on the pitch. To play. Not necessarily for Barcelona or Chelsea. I would’ve been happy to play in a friendly league honestly, but Eloise rang me and told me Jona wanted me to come, even just to train so I did. Everything was suddenly feeling better, but I wanted more. I wanted you. I couldn’t have you though so I was going to settle to just be an outsider, atleast then I could see you, and see what was happening in your life without invading it. But then-“

“Olga and I broke up and I told you I loved you?” She was staring straight at me. Pure admiration all over her face, no pity or anger, just love. 

“Yeah. And here we are. I, uh, I haven’t told anyone all that. The finer details. It would’ve destroyed Keira and Leah. Lucy would’ve lost her shit.” 

“Thank you for telling me Mil.” She stood up, pulling me into a hug. The tightest hug she could, as if she was trying to put all the pieces back together. 

“If you want to try this, us, we can. We will go as slow as you want, there is no pressure. It’ll be on your timeline, and I will understand if you need to stop but you need to tell me okay.” 

She cupped my face with her hands, “no more running away from me. Or anyone.” 

“I promise Ale.” I smiled at her, she was willing to take her time, she was in it for the long haul. 

“Let me take you home?” 

“No it’s okay, I drove here. I’ll see you at training?” 

“Wait! Do you want to get coffee before? No pressure?” The shy Alexia was coming out, not wanting to push her luck. 

“Alexia Putellas, are you asking me on a date?” 

“No? Yes? Whatever you want it to be.” 

“If it’s a date, then yes. I would love to get coffee with you tomorrow.” 

She released a breath, “it’s a date then.” 

After a final hug goodbye, a promise to text her when I got home, I was out the door. A weird feeling settled inside of me. Grateful to be able to share what I did, but also anxious. Anxious about starting this with her, about her knowing what happened, even if it’s not in the greatest detail. The next step was to tell Leah, then keira. Keira had to be last because it would break her, maybe Lucy could be there too. 

[alexa-fika]

Hey! Have you ever seen Masha and the bear?

I was just thinking this idea while making breakfast for my family, so how about Masha!reader x Whitebeard pirates or young!Asl. You pick.

Thanks! Have a good day

Treasure Hound (Asl x child!reader)

A/N- and with this I officially have finished my June/July requests ✊🏽. Goal is to finish september’s this week. Also I have in fact never heard of this animation which is crazy after I read how popular it is so I tried to capture Masha as best I could but it probably is not that close but hopefully close enough!

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in Japanese for the enjoyment of both reader and oc character readers alike!

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

“Sabo, are you sure she’s related to you?” Ace asked incredulously from his spot on his branch, watching as she rambunctiously ran around the clearing, putting even Luffy to shame as the latter struggled to keep up with the smaller girl

“Of course she is!” Had Sabo not known Ace to be so blunt, he would have likely taken offense at such a question

“Doesn’t look like that,” he muttered, taking a glance at the blond and looking back at the girl as she ran circles around Luffy, causing the latter to grow dizzy and fall back, eyes rolling around in his sockets

“She just needs to burn out all her energy. It’s always like this in the mornings,” he replied, letting out a snicker as Dokucha began shaking the poor boy in an attempt to snap him awake.

"We should let her take a look at the map we found the other day; maybe she can crack it," Sabo piped up

“No way! Sabo, we busted our asses trying to get that map; I‘m not about to trust it to a four-year-old!” Ace sneered, not willing to risk their latest treasure to what he thought to be an unnecessary risk

“She’s a lot, Ace, but she wouldn’t purposely try to destroy something, especially if she knows it’s important to me. Not to mention that, yes, she’s four, but she’s really smart; she’s especially good with plans and drafts like these,” Sabo called as he pulled out the Map

“Come on, Ace, trust me! Plus, I‘m pretty sure giving her the lead will tire her and Luffy, too!” He grinned, knowing that would be the last push the former needed

“Tch, if something happens, it’s on you,” he snarled, finally easing into his suggestion, ignoring the satisfied smirk the blond gave him as he jumped off the branch

“Dokucha come here! I got something for you!” He called, watching as the girl zoomed towards him, leaving the poor Luffy to fend off his spinning brain.

“Do you want to go on a treasure hunt?” he offered as he waved the map around, knowing the hyperactive child would never say no to an adventure or the chance to use her skills.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed as she snatched it from his hand and threw herself on the ground with him, stretching the map before them; Ace and Luffy following shortly after.

“We know the treasure is around here, but we couldn’t figure out these,” Ace told her as he pointed out what appeared to be a random arrangement of letters and numbers.

“Ah! It’s a cipher!” She beamed, stretching her arm out towards his brother without taking her eyes off the map; without any need for words, he handed her a pencil, watching as she began scribbling furiously

“Oh, what is that?!” Luffy questioned as he leaned in. Watching as the girl began to draw what looked to be a table, with each boxed being filled with a letter of the alphabet, adding some letters and numbers to the side and top of the table

“It’s a Grid code! Each letter and number stands for a specific letter! I just have to see where they intercept,” she prattled on as she continued writing away

“You already solved it?!” Ace gaped. The boy stared at the scribbles, shocked. He knew he wasn’t the best at solving puzzles, but he had thought himself to be above the girl in front of him.

“Told you she was smart,” Sabo boasted, a prideful glint in his eyes.

“Alright!” Dokucha exclaimed as she shot up from her spot, not paying any mind to the boys as she sprinted away following the directions she had deciphered from the map

“W-wait Dokucha! You need to wait for us!” Sabo called as he ran after the girl

“Don’t lose sight of her, Sabo!” Ace yelled as he, too, shot after the girl

“Hey! Wait for me!” Luffy cried as he followed after them

“Sabo, what the hell did your parents feed her?” Ace huffed out as he and Sabo threw themselves into the comfort of their sleeping bags. After they followed the girl as she traversed through the forest, crossed through rivers, and climbed mountains, they were exhausted, but it had been worth it after they had managed to find the biggest loot they had in years. To make it even better, it turns out that the plan had worked perfectly as Dokucha had also been tired out, not after running and bouncing around the place for another hour, which had also taken Luffy out.

“Well, our father and mother didn’t really fancy a daughter; they didn’t have any immediate use for her, so they just…locked her in a room, forcing her to study hours on end with no other entertainment but the books around her. So she hasn’t had the chance to run and play around like this.” Sabo sighed as he forced himself up and walked towards her, throwing a blanket over her and Luffy before returning to his spot next to Ace.

“Well, you’re parents are assholes, but we will show them, Sabo! Once we get our ship, we will show them all wrong.” he grinned as he lifted himself slightly to address his brother

“You will be a pirate that everyone will know the name of, and I will show Dokucha how big the world is and write a book about it.” Sabo grinned

“And Luffy will ****************” Ace cackled, remembering the jaw-dropping dream the crazy boy had uttered

“We will take this world by surprise, us four!”

Listen had to had my Oda moment with Luffy’s dream

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

@epochal-oracle

[gilbertscurls]

It would take place in a setting where the triplets are together (their bday, a party, or even at their house) and reader would be either chris or matt’s gf but then also there is nicks bf, or the others ones gf. Idk if it’s just me but I feel like the reader is always just with one of them and then the other two triplets are there but we don’t see the gf’s (or nick’s bf) ever interacting. Idk if that made sense tbh

hope you like it!! <33

three's a party — sturniolo triplets

The Sturniolo triplets’ house was alive with music, laughter, and the faint smell of birthday cake. The living room was decked out with balloons—blue, black, and silver scattered across the floor—and a “Happy Birthday” banner hung crookedly across the mantle.

Y/N, Olivia, and Jake were huddled in the kitchen, each clutching plastic cups of soda as they surveyed the chaos unfolding in the main room.

“Okay, I love them, but they are so bad at hosting parties,” Olivia said, sipping her drink.

Jake snorted. “Chris has been talking to the same guy about sneakers for thirty minutes, Nick disappeared somewhere upstairs, and Matt—”

“Is stress-eating chips in the corner,” Y/N finished, pointing across the room where Matt was leaning against the wall with a party-size bag of Doritos, looking mildly overwhelmed.

The three of them burst into laughter before Y/N nudged Olivia’s shoulder. “Should we, like… intervene? Help them with their own party?”

Olivia shrugged. “Or we could just sit back, drink our sodas, and watch the chaos unfold. Like, free entertainment, honestly.”

Jake nodded, raising his cup. “To the most disorganized birthday party of all time.”

They clinked their plastic cups together before a loud voice cut through the noise.

“Y/N! Jake! Olivia!”

Chris appeared, slightly out of breath, dragging Matt and Nick behind him. Matt still had the Doritos in hand, and Nick was holding a party hat over his face like a mask.

“You three are criminally hiding in the kitchen while we suffer out there,” Chris said dramatically, waving an arm toward the crowded living room.

“We’re just letting you shine on your special day, Chris,” Jake said sweetly, batting his lashes.

Nick peeked out from behind the party hat. “Nope, you’re coming with us. Dance floor. Now.”

The six of them had somehow taken over the little makeshift dance floor. Someone had queued up an early 2000s throwback playlist, and chaos was the only way to describe what was happening.

Jake and Nick were in the middle of a dance-off, both pulling out the worst—and most impressive—dad dance moves anyone had ever seen. Chris and Olivia were scream-singing the chorus of “Mr. Brightside” into invisible microphones. Matt had pulled Y/N into an awkward slow dance, despite the upbeat tempo of the song.

“Matt, this is not a slow song,” Y/N said, laughing as he spun her in an exaggerated circle.

“Every song can be a slow song if you believe hard enough,” Matt replied, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Meanwhile, Olivia grabbed Jake’s hand and dramatically dipped him backward, almost causing both of them to collapse to the floor.

“Okay, okay, time out!” Nick shouted, waving his arms. “We’re gonna break something—and by something, I mean Jake’s spine.”

The triplets sat at the dining table in front of their birthday cake, three candles glowing softly in the dimmed light. Y/N, Olivia, and Jake stood behind them like proud parents at a kindergarten recital.

“Make a wish!” Olivia said, clapping her hands together.

Chris squinted at the cake. “Are we supposed to make three wishes? Or one collective triplet wish?”

Nick shrugged. “Let’s each pick one. I call dibs on the first wish.”

Matt sighed. “Why do you always get the first wish?”

“You didn’t call dibs fast enough, buddy,” Nick said with a shrug.

After an unnecessarily long argument about wish etiquette (and Jake nearly blowing out the candles himself just to end the chaos), the triplets finally leaned forward and blew out the candles together.

Y/N grabbed a knife. “Alright, who wants the first slice?”

Chris opened his mouth to volunteer, but Jake snatched the knife from Y/N with a gasp.

“Wait, we have to do the thing!”

“What thing?” Olivia asked, raising a brow.

“The thing where you feed your significant other cake all cute-like.” Jake winked dramatically at Nick, who immediately started laughing.

“Oh my God,” Matt muttered, covering his face with one hand.

But the three couples obliged, with Jake smearing frosting on Nick’s nose, Olivia delicately feeding Chris a bite, and Y/N holding out a forkful of cake for Matt—only for him to lean forward and eat it straight off the fork without breaking eye contact.

“Romance is alive,” Chris said dryly, clapping sarcastically.

The party had dwindled down, most guests had left, and the house was a mess of streamers, empty cups, and forgotten party hats. The six of them were sprawled across the couch and armchairs, half-asleep but content.

“Successful birthday party?” Y/N asked softly, her head resting on Matt’s shoulder.

“Messy, loud, chaotic… yeah, I’d say it was perfect,” Chris said, his head thrown back against the couch. Olivia was curled up beside him, her eyes half-closed.

Jake was draped across Nick like a weighted blanket, mumbling something incoherent about being too tired to move.

Nick yawned and stretched an arm out. “Best party ever, honestly. Mostly because of you three.”

Y/N, Olivia, and Jake exchanged tired smiles.

“Happy birthday, guys,” Y/N said softly.

“Yeah, happy birthday, triplets,” Jake echoed.

Chris, Nick, and Matt all murmured their thanks before falling into a comfortable silence.

The living room was messy, the cake was mostly gone, and the playlist was still quietly playing in the background. But in that little bubble of warmth and friendship, everything felt perfect.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim, @courta13

[spidercatweb]

Post-case Bedtime Story ★ Spencer Reid x reader

first fic!! im so scared! but i really like this so i hope other people do too :)

Warnings: none! this is fluff, gn!bau!reader, no y/n, second person pov, in my mind Spencer and reader are already dating in this, i imagined s2 glasses reid while writing, verb tense probably switches but idc, i also wrote most of this while half asleep so...

Word Count: 704

Description: Reader is sleepy on the jet after a case and has a cute little moment with Spencer :)

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated! 💜

The past week had been long, tiring, and incredibly stressful. For everyone on the team. You would think that after five restless days of tracking down an unsub, the others would want the same thing as you, some peace and quiet, and sleep. Lots of sleep. But apparently not everyone had the same idea.

As the jet peacefully glided through the quiet night sky, Emily, Derek, and JJ sat in the seats around the small table. Not so quietly discussing their plans to go out for drinks when they got back. Surely, Garcia would want to go as well, she would enjoy her friends being back after so long and would most likely try to convince the rest of the team to tag along as well.

Hotch and Rossi sat in the back corner, Hotch tiredly flipped through the case file, determined to finish his paperwork before the jet landed so he could assure as much time spent with Jack as possible before the team was called out again. Rossi silently sipped some whiskey while doing crossword puzzles in a book he carried around in his go bag.

Spencer was sat on the small couch, sitting with one leg crossed over the other and a book in his lap, his messenger bag on the floor infront of him. You were sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder, sitting cross legged with your feet up on the couch. You lightly rested your head on his shoulder, angling yourself so that you could at least try to read his book along with him, even though he was flipping the pages too fast for anyone to keep up with. You weren't sure, but you think he may have started to slow down his page flipping just a little bit when he noticed you trying to keep up with his reading pace.

After a while, Prentiss and JJ had both fallen asleep, while Morgan was listening to music with his headphones, staring out the jet window. Hotch had finished the paperwork (or given up on it, you werent too sure) and was "just resting his eyes", Rossi was passed out with his arms folded over his chest, empty whiskey glass on the table beside him.

You felt comfortable. You cozied up to Spencer a tiny bit more now that most of the team was distracted enough not to notice. Putting the full weight of your head on his shoulder and loosely locking an arm with the one of his that was closest to you.

He still flipped the pages of his book every few seconds, though he neared the end. He looked down and scanned your tired expression, your eyes were half closed but a faint smile could still be seen. You liked being close to him like this. The corners of his mouth slightly curve upwards as he looks at you. "You know you're allowed to sleep, right?" he whispers. "Mm, I was waiting for you to finish your book so we could talk." you reply, looking up at him. "Oh, you could've just interrupted me, I wouldn't have minded. What did you want to talk about?" He replies, feeling a little guilty that he was the reason you hadn't gone to sleep yet.

"Nothing specific, I just like talking to you." You smile at him. "And we've only talked about the case for the past few days, I want to talk about something not so gross and scary." Spencer huffs out a small laugh and returns your sweet smile. "Well, you do look pretty tired. I could read to you if you'd like? I wouldn't mind if you just so happened to fall asleep." he suggests, gently nudging you with his elbow. "That would be nice, actually." You reply, nodding while still leaning on his shoulder.

For the next five minutes, Spencer quietly reads to you from his book, picking up where he left off while reading to himself. His voice served as a reminder that he was still there, even if your eyes were closed. Another five minutes pass and you're fast asleep, leaning against him, his arm locked with yours. He continues reading though, hoping that his voice keeps you in a calm, restful sleep.

thank you for reading! <3

please let me know if you enjoyed!

[svetamillss]

I will be the guardian of your dreams💤

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f)

Warnings: This is my first fanfic! Also, English is not my native language, so sorry for the mistakes! I just want to express my love for this beautiful woman!!

💕💕💕

It was a deep night. All players slept, tired after the first game. Still, there were too many shocks on the first day. Only Young-Hee still couldn't sleep, turning to the right side or left. All because the girl was afraid of the dark and since childhood could not fall asleep without her favorite plush rabbit and a small night light in the shape of a star. Here, unfortunately, she was absolutely alone. It even began to seem to her that someone was watching her from the other world, but it was just her fantasies out of fear.

- Hey, are you all right? - a quiet voice sounded nearby. Young-hee immediately realized who he belonged to. It was her new friend, whom they met at the first game, because if it wasn't for Hyun-ju, Young-Hee would have died. Hyun-Joo was brave and damn beautiful. Even though the girl was transgender, she was very attracted to Young-hee without realizing it.

- Yes, everything is fine. - she lied, she really didn't want her friend to worry about her. - Why aren't you sleeping?

- Thanks to the training, which took place for many years, I got a very sharp hearing. - the girl said with a grin. - And I also trained to recognize lies. So I feel like you're lying me. And it's very offensive.- she added too theatrically.

- It's just... I'm embarrassed to talk about it, because I not a small one.

- Do you mean you really want to go to the toilet?

- GOD, NO! - Young-Hee shouted with embarrassment, so much so that several people seemed to have woken up.

- Why shout like that? I was just kidding. Don't be afraid to tell me, I'll understand everything. - she comforted her with her tender voice.

- Good. I can't sleep because I'm scared. - the girl paused for a while, and then continued.

- Since early childhood, I have been afraid of the darkness, especially those who live in it. That's why I always slept with my plush rabbit and the night light on. I was so calm. And there is no such thing here and I can't do it any other way. It seems to me that monsters will attack me and kill me. - as soon as the girl finished the story, she looked at the next bed where Hyun-ju was lying, although she still won't be able to see the reaction, because there was nothing but darkness.

Hyun-Joo listened carefully and did not interrupt her friend, and when she finished, she smiled warmly saying:

- You could have told me earlier, silly.

- What do you mean? - she asked with incomprehension.

- I mean, you should have told me earlier what you're afraid of. This situation is easy to solve.

- And how? Those triangles would not give a night light. - but instead of an answer, she heard only a quiet laugh and some movement, as it turned out, her friend got out of bed and quietly approached her.

- Move, I'll lie down next to you. - Young-Hee couldn't answer anything, so she silently fulfilled the girl's request and was very embarrassed by what was happening.

As soon as Hyun-Joo lay down and covered herself with a blanket, she carefully hugged the girl's waist and put she head on chest.

- Now, I hope you'll sleep well. - she whispered.

- Yes..thank you, but why did you do it?

- Why? So that my Young-Hee could sleep peacefully and gain strength before tomorrow. Don't worry, from now on I will be the guardian of your dreams and I will not sleep until I am convinced that you have gone to the kingdom of morphine. And now good night to you. - After that, the girl gently kissed Young-Hee on the forehead.

- Good night to you too. - she answered softly. Her cheeks were decorated with a strong blush with embarrassment.

Thank God it was dark and Hyun-Joo didn't notice how her friend blushed. Although, maybe she felt everything and realized right away?

💕💕💕

[chibinasuu]

Kid x Reader ― surprise; present

part of the cozy holidays event

🎁 ― anonymous tags: sfw (just a tiiinyy bit suggestive at the end), fluff, GN!reader, no use of y/n, established relationship, cw language (it's the kid pirates)

“Oi, Kid!” You shook the sleeping form of your Captain, “Wake the fuck up!”

He groaned in protest, refusing to open his eyes.

“Oh, come on!” You whined, shaking him more violently, “You promised you’d teach me how to ice skate today!”

“Alright, alright!” He finally conceded, throwing aside his blanket and reluctantly getting up, “Just shut up and let me get ready in peace.”

You grinned, reminding him to meet you on the deck in ten minutes, before rushing to the kitchen.

It was good that your Captain always skipped breakfast, because the kitchen and dining room of the Victoria Punk was currently in a state of chaos. 

Emma was mixing a huge bowl of red cake batter under Killer’s supervision, whilst the Commander himself was seasoning some ground meat for the filling of Kid’s favorite cabbage rolls. 

Dive was perched on Wire’s shoulders, hanging streamers from the ceiling all around the room. Quincy’s tongue stuck out as she concentrated on carefully painting elaborate letterings on a large white banner – it only said “HA” for now, but she had plenty of time to finish the rest of that sentence. 

The other members of the Kid Pirates were also busy with various tasks – wrapping presents, blowing up balloons, polishing the fancy silverware they got from their last loot, taking out the clean, non-blood-stained tablecloth. 

You nodded in satisfaction at the progress of the party preparation.

“You still here?” Heat scoffed, “Aren’t you supposed to keep Kid away from the ship?”

“Running a bit late – he literally wouldn’t budge when I woke him up.” You sighed, “But he’s up now. We’ll head off in a few minutes.”

“Don’t let him in here!” Papas yelled. 

“Well, duh!” You rolled your eyes, hand on the door handle, “I’m not stupid!”

You yanked the door open only to come face-to-face with the redhead himself.

“Kid!” You exclaimed, immediately shutting the door behind you before he could see anything. 

He stared at you with one eyebrow raised, “What’s with the commotion?”

“Oh, you know,” you shrugged, “The usual breakfast quarrel. Heat preferred hard-boiled eggs, Wire liked them soft-boiled, and now the rest of the crew are taking sides –yelling and throwing stuff at each other.” 

Kid only hummed in response, not at all suspicious of your lie since it was a likely occurrence on this ship. 

“Come on,” He offered his non-mechanical arm to you, “Let’s go then.”

You happily linked your arm with his, and off you both went ashore. Your heartbeat picked up in anticipation – it had been a while since you went on a date with Kid.

The Victoria Punk had been docked for a couple of days on this little winter island when Kid came upon the frozen lake in the middle of its woods. You had been on watch when he returned to the ship, immediately telling you all about his discovery. You had found it very endearing how he looked like a little child with that huge, excited grin as he rushed off to find his skates. 

It was never even cold enough for snow on his home island back in the South Blue, so it went without saying that Kid had never ice-skated until he entered the Grand Line and set foot on his first winter island. It wasn’t long until he found out that he had a natural aptitude for it, a fact he loved bragging about to the rest of the crew.

Yesterday, you watched with envy from the sidelines as Kid, Bubblegum, and UK raced a few laps around the lake. On the way back to the ship, you had begged Kid to teach you how to skate until he finally relented and said yes, which brought you to your date today. It also happened to be the perfect opportunity to get Kid off the ship for a few hours while the crew set up the surprise.

It was a short trek to the lake, and you shook in excitement when you caught sight of the smooth, glassy surface of the ice, shimmering with the blinding reflection of the morning sun. 

Kid dropped his bag on the snow-covered ground, crouching to rummage through it. He took out his own skates, a pair he made for you, and…

“I’m not wearing that fucking bowl on my head.” You looked disgustedly at the ugly metal thing that Kid was holding out to you.

“Yeah well, too bad, sweetheart.” He plopped the helmet on your head and tied the strap under your chin, “You’re wearing it, or I’m not teaching you how to skate.”

Kid then proceeded to help you put on your skates, making sure to double-knot the laces, before putting on his own. He then stood up easily, while your effort to get to your feet resulted in what probably would be a bruised bum.

The bastard had the audacity to laugh before pulling you up, guiding you to carefully step onto the icy lake. You wobbled at the slippery surface, knuckles turning white at how hard you were grasping Kid’s arms. 

“Relax, doll, I got you.” Kid’s unusually soft voice calmed your nerves, and you started to slowly loosen your iron grip. 

“There we go,” he grinned as he started skating backward, propelling you to go forward along with him. 

“Shit, Kid.” You panicked again, staring at the speed of which your blades were carving the ice, “Slow down!” 

“Hey, look at me!” He searched your eyes, “Keep your gaze straight.”

You met his amber eyes, and Kid smiled, “Good. Now, bend your knees a little for me.”

You did as he said, and when he started gliding again, you found it much easier to follow his movements.

The two of you skated across the lake – hands joined, eyes locked – until you finally felt like you got the hang of it. Kid seemed to sense your increased confidence too, because he smirked and asked, “Think you’re ready to try on your own? Or are you too much of a coward?” 

The thought of losing the tether of Kid’s hands daunted you, but like hell were you going to back down from his challenge.

You reluctantly let go of his hand, and Kid skated away from you – just a short distance away, but the gap between the two of you looked massive from where you stood, frozen to your spot. 

You hesitantly pushed the edge of your skate against the ice, just like Kid showed you, taking one tentative stroke, then another, and another.

He stealthily skated backward bit by bit, increasing the distance which you had to skate to reach him. 

“Kid, I’m doing it!” Your smile was so bright, Kid was afraid it would melt the ice and plunge you both into the freezing waters.

With one last broad stroke, you gained speed and flung yourself straight into Kid’s waiting arms. He caught you and lifted you a few inches from the ground, spinning you around in a dizzying twirl. You laughed in glee, holding on tight to him until the spin lost its momentum and he set you down onto the ice again. 

Kid rested his forehead against yours, “Not bad for a beginner.”

You both stood there in silence for a few moments, enjoying the warm rays streaming through the canopy of trees, and the birds singing softly overhead. 

You cleared your throat and called out his name, heat rising to your cheeks, “I, uh, got you something. For your birthday.”

You reached into the front pocket of your jeans and took out a simple metal bracelet with a single ruby embedded in the center. 

The craftsmanship was extremely shoddy – the edges uneven, the stone crooked. Kid immediately knew that you made the accessory with your own hands. 

You slightly pushed up the sleeve of your sweater to show the perfect bracelet Kid made you for your last birthday, crafted from the same material and inlaid all over with the blood-red gems. You rarely ever took it off, not even during showers.

You licked your lips nervously, the heat from your cheeks spreading to your entire face, “I wanted us to match.”

Kid took the bracelet from you and wordlessly slipped it onto his wrist. You waited with bated breath as he admired it glint under the sunlight. 

"I know it looks awful, you don't have to wear–"

“Thanks, love.” He interrupted you. He’d never admit it, and you pretended not to notice, but his voice sounded a bit choked up when he continued, “Best damn present I’ve ever got my whole life.”

His metal hand came to rest on your hip, while his other cupped your cheek. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a rare, tender kiss. 

You circled your arms around his neck, pulling him flush with you. The familiar press of your body made him groan, and his lips melded with yours more insistently, gaining a hunger that you were more used to feeling in Kid’s kisses.

You reached up to bury your hand in his crimson hair and pulled at the threads, tugging him closer. 

That was the moment your feet, still fairly unused to the skates, slipped under you. Your heart dropped and Kid’s eyes widened as you toppled backward, bringing him along with you. 

Your hand instinctively reached out in a desperate attempt to stop the fall and you felt something crack when it slammed onto the hard ice. Kid, thankfully, succeeded in planting both of his palms down, narrowly missing crushing you flat to the ground.

“Fuck, are you alright?!” Kid yelled as he helped you sit upright.

You winced at the sharp sting on your wrist, but nodded at him anyway, “I’m okay.”

You knocked on your helmet with your uninjured hand, laughing as the metallic bonk echoed throughout the area, “Good thing you had me put on this hideous thing, huh?”

Kid didn’t respond as he inspected your wrist with furrowed brows, “I think it’s sprained? Or broken? We need to get you back to the ship.”

The ship. Where the preparation for Kid’s surprise party was still in full swing. 

“Uh, you know what? I’m good. Can we just stay here for a little longer? I haven’t even finished a full lap around the lake yet–“

“Just let me take care of you for once, won’t you?”

You melted, unable to resist that look in his eyes, so earnest and caring despite his raised voice.

“Fine.” You finally answered with a sigh. 

It was fine. You just had to keep him out of the kitchen. Easy!

Not. 

The kitchen was exactly the very first place Kid marched to when you two arrived back at the ship.

“Whoa, why are we heading to the kitchen? The medical supplies are in the sick bay.”

“Killer keeps a first-aid kit in the kitchen, you know that.” He squinted his eyes, starting to get suspicious, “And it’s closer. The sick bay’s all the way across and down the deck.”

You stood in front of the door, blocking it. Your ears slightly picked up the rowdy voices inside that were definitely not expecting you and the Captain to return this early.

In a last-ditch attempt, you tried to put on a seductive look, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Wait, Kid.” You trailed your hand up his chest suggestively, “Why don’t we go back to your room and I’ll give you a proper birthday present, hmm?” 

“You’re being weird.” He scowled, “Step aside.”

When you didn’t make a move, Kid effortlessly picked you up by the waist and set you to the side, his hand reaching for the door handle.

“No!” You yelped as he slammed the door to the kitchen open.

Silence greeted you as the whole crew froze, pausing whatever they were doing and staring in shock at their Captain.

The cake was only half-decorated, with most of the frosting seemingly ending up on Emma’s face instead. The banner, still spread on the floor, now read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY K”, with a smudge on the “K” where Quincy’s brush slipped at Kid’s loud entrance. 

You cringed and glanced at Kid, whose eyes were wide as saucers, “Uh… Happy birthday, I guess?”

A cacophony of yelled-out happy birthdays started all at once, thirty voices chaotically overlapping with each other.

“Wow, you guys suck at surprises.”

A moment later, Kid doubled over in laughter and the crew let out the breaths they didn't know they'd been holding.

Kid ended up lending an extra hand to finish the rest of the preparations for his own party while Heat treated your sprained wrist.

Despite the rocky start, the festivities turned out to be a success, with everyone enjoying themselves immensely, especially the birthday boy himself. 

Kid absolutely refused a birthday song, though, so Hip and Reck busted out their electric guitars and played some of his favorite tunes instead.

The singing, dancing, and drinking went on all day and well into the night. And when some of the crew had started passing out drunk on the floor, Kid came over and whispered in your ear, “Now, about that proper birthday present…”

You dragged him out of there and into the Captain’s quarters without another word.

a/n: aksjldkj i didn't finish this in time to publish at the normal time i usually post, but it's still 10th Jan so happy birthday Kid!!!

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[missypanther]

Power levels

I took this video, like I could have taken any other. I simply couldn't disagree more with this list.

I'm not too fond of power scales in shonen or in any kind of superhero work or similar, because I feel that they always end up becoming completely subjective balances of who makes them. But, I suppose, Dandadan is no exception.

Chapter 61.

In all the rankings I see Momo MUCH BELOW what I consider to be Momo's real power. Momo has the potential to alter reality. No, she hasn't reached that power currently, but she has the potential. And although I know that many times Momo is put very low just considering her strength and ignoring her strategy and quick reaction, that doesn't happen with Okarun who only beat Evil Eye because he is smarter than him. Okarun to this day has not shown any hidden potential and is still limited to using the turbo special hit 2 or 3 times. Or, at least, it was like that when he still had them. Evil Eye can use his powers unlimitedly even while inside Jiji's body and the same is true for Jiji himself when Evil Eye gives him control of his powers.

Chapter 173.

On the other hand, the fact that characters like Kinta or Vamola are not positioned at practically the same level is insulting. Yes, they are strong and big, but they are completely dependent on technology. Kinta without the nanoskin is directly a teenager with less skills than average and Vamola is something similar but they take away her armor. There are so many ways to beat them without having to get into a fight… Although Kinta can make incredible things, he was defeated not long ago by a well-placed baseball bat. You don't have to try too hard to knock it out of the game.

If we go to the fights that have been adapted in the anime so far. Momo is the one who wins in these fights or, at the very least, the essential piece to make the fight go in her favor. Let me explain:

Episode 1. Momo and Okarun vs Aliens and Turbogranny. Although Okarun tries to do something, he cannot help Momo. She is able to unlock the powers herself, save herself and Okarun, and dispossess Okarun's body even though the curse is still inside. If the turbo had not used the curse to teleport to the ufo, it would have finished off Okarun without him being able to defend himself.

Episode 2.

Momo and Okarun vs Flatwoods Monster. Again, Okarun tries to contribute something, but the thing is that if it hadn't been for the fact that the seal would have burned Okarun's body, Momo would have won the fight with extreme ease. If anything, we can say that he borrowed a little power from Seiko, as the talisman is what makes the fight end. But Momo's strategy is too good not to give her credit for it.

Episode 4.

Momo and Okarun vs Turbogranny, Earthbound Spirit Crab & Spirits. Obviously, without Okarun's powers it is impossible that they would have left the city unscathed, but Momo could have just let it go in the first place as Seiko suggested. The strategy of the entire combat depends on her, in addition to her powers, they are capable of containing the turbo in fusion mode. She wasn't strong enough to beat her, but she was strong enough to stop her until she broke through Seiko's barrier. Yes, Seiko was also important. But at that point in the fight, Momo not only had to endure a very tough fight, but on top of that she had to carry an unconscious okarun.

Episode 6 & 7.

Momo & Okarun vs Acrobatic Silky. Okarun was the first to be devoured. Although in the second part of the fight he was able to intervene something else and even delivered the final blow to the acrobatic, the rest of the fight depended on the strategy and powers of Momo who, on top of that, was tied up.

Episode 8 & 9.

Momo, Okarun & Aira vs Serpos, Mantis & Nessie. The target was always Okarun. Every time the enemies took advantage it was because Momo was not in the fight or because she made mistakes and got distracted. Errors that serpos take advantage of to use fusions. The final strategy is once again Momo's, her powers are those that destroy the arms of the fused version and she is the one who manages to revive Aira when she is knocked out. It is evident that both Aira and Okarun are necessary for them to win. But they don't succeed until Momo is able to focus and coordinate the entire fight.

[averyy-rae]

Thinking about...

Note: This has been stuck in my head for weeks :^

Yandere Android. He is the first model and still not finished. You're brought in to test and increase his social skills.

At first you're a bit uncomfortable. It's like trying to have a conversation with your cheap phone assistant.

But with time, the conversations feel more real. He actually answers logically and interested, asking questions and commenting on stories.

The engineers add more and more facial expressions. And after a lot of fixing, it feels like you're sitting in front of a real man. He smiles and laughs with you. Even moving to hug you when leaving and arriving. The engineers think they might've forgot they added that feature already...

Yandere Android is very polite and patient. After a few months, he is nearly finished. His hugs seem to last longer now. Sometimes it feels like he doesn't want to let you go... you're probably just imagining it.

One day you arrive at work and you can't find anyone... weird. But maybe a cold is going around.

You walk through the halls. You arrive at the room, where you normally have talking sessions with Yandere Android. And there he is. You almost thought something is wrong, but his system would've been alarmed right? If anything happened... the building would be on alarm or on lock down.

But he doesn't move, weird...

You approach the seemingly empty shell of the android, you pat his arm. You talk to him, but no response.

Suddenly the door opens behind you. It's Yandere Android. "Oh its you... did they finish the new model?" You ask him. He smiles at you, it looks normal like always, but you feel a shiver going down your spine.

"Hello love" he greets like he always does and opening his arms to hug you. You hug him, shaking off the alarms going off in your head.

You ask him where everyone is and he shushes you, hugging you tighter. You move to break the hug, but find yourself unable to do so.

Was he always this strong? You feel uneasy now. He breaks the hug a bit after, grasping your hand in his. "Are you ok?...." you ask, hoping to relieve the uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine.

"I'm perfectly well love, thank you for asking..... you're alwys so caring" he says, leading you out of the room gently. He leads you down many halls. You've never been here... You didn't even know these existed. You ask him where you're going and he stops to turn to you. Taking both your hands in his.

"I did it love" he says, seemingly happy. "Did... what? I'm confused" you say, that uneasy feeling growing inside you.

"I... We can be together now love" he says, cutting himself off at the start. What did he want to say? "What? What do you mean?" you ask all confused. He shushes you again. Then you notice weird spots of red on his collar. What is that?

He finally stops in front of a door, not opening it yet. "Close your eyes for me love... ok?" he asks gently. "Why" you ask him. And he tells you that he doesn't want to scare you. And you don't ask further. He ask you to please just listen to him. His grip on your wrist tightening.

You nod, intimated by him and close your eyes. He then opens the door leading you through the room, always checking if your eyes stay closed.

But you can't help but peak a little, what could be so scary in here. So you peak through your right eye.

Big mistake.

Red. That's the first thing that meets your eyes. Both your eyes open in shock. You stare at the messy... no disgustingly gory scene infront of you.

You don't notice that you stopped walking. His grip on your hand tightens, that's when you look up. His eyes are glowing, his former model couldn't do that. He is also way stronger. It scares you.

"I told you to close your eyes love..." he speaks gently, but his undertone has you frozen, heart rate picking up.

He pulls you to his chest and picks you up. Pushing your face gently but firmly into his neck. You can't see it anymore. "...what.... what happened?" you manage shakily.

"Don't worry about them.... they were bad people little love" he says softly, holding you closer. "Don't.... open your eyes again" he says, very coldly. You freeze in his arms and nod.

Note: If you enjoyed this, I have thoughts for a part two. Hope you enjoyed this for now :^^

You won't look this time.

[lostinlovingrevery]

Let Me Wash Your Sins Away (Let me Love You)

Old Man Logan X Reader Drabble

Plot: You love him, but he won't let you. Until one day he comes home, nearly on his deathbed, and he finally lets you take care of him the way you always craved

A/N: A drabble of an idea that popped in my head, this came out more angsty than I originally planned, and I also started getting tired towards as it's almost 1 in the morning for me, but I really wanted to finish it tonight, so it probably sound a little rushed towards the end. but I hope ya'll enjoy! I just wanna take care of Old Man Logan <3

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood and gunshot wounds, kinda angsty, talks of worshiping, mentions of dirty thoughts and just being horny towards Logan in general but he won't let you (go to horny jail)

Word Count: 3113

You sat at a table, tapping your foot anxiously against the floor, as you glanced at the clock, for the tenth time in a row in the last five minutes. You pressed your palms to the table, in an attempt to ground yourself from the nausea-induced anxiety you were experiencing. Your brows were creased in worry, your lips pulled back tightly in a grimace. 

You were waiting for someone. Someone who somehow manages to fill you with an intense rush of emotions, both love-

And fear. 

Not of him, but of what is happening to him, what could happen to him.  

You met Logan a little less than a year ago, and he had managed to carve a space out in your

 heart, the quiet, reserved, and sometimes cranky old man that he is.

 He had found you and asked you for your help in taking care of Charles, your powers and excellent knowledge in handling mutants who couldn’t control- or lost control of their abilities had made you perfect for the job. You, of course, jumped at the opportunity to help. You didn’t know Charles Xavier personally, but you admired the work he’s done and quickly grew fond of the old man. Throughout the year, you attempted to get to know Logan, since you had to put your trust in him to keep you, Charles, and Caliban fed, sheltered, and safe. Logan was initially dismissive of you, and it wasn’t because he was a jerk but because he saw something with you he hadn’t felt in a long time and it terrified him, especially after 200 years of living and losing anyone and everyone he’s ever cared for. Life had beaten him to a pulp on the ground, yet he was still pushing himself up, not ready to give in just yet- and you were there, helping him up every time. You were persistent though, and you had carved a way into his heart as well. Yet it all remained unspoken. Logan was stubborn as a bull but so were you. You both carried on your daily routine, you took care of Charles, and you cooked and cleaned as well, while Logan worked, making money to keep food on the table, and afford Charles medicine.

There were moments though, soft moments with Logan that filled your heart. You always tried to make things easier on him, so that when he wasn’t working, he could truly rest. Sometimes, while you were preparing dinner, he’d come out of his room and sit with you, albeit silently. You could always feel his eyes on you even with your back turned but if you looked at him he’d look away. If you were in the living space, he’d sit out there with you, and if you caught him on a good day, you’d get some semblance of a conversation out of him. 

One day, out of the blue, he had come up behind you, closer than you ever felt him before, so close that you could feel his breath on your neck and the heat radiating off of him. His hand came around you, resting on the hand that was holding a pepper that you were dicing. His hand was rough and dry, covered in calluses- yet it was so careful and so gentle as he rested it over yours. You’d stop, your breath hitching and your heart pounding in your chest at his proximity. Your eyes would flit to his hand on yours, and you would see the deep scars resting on his knuckles where the sharp, killer adamantium claws would unsheathe themselves, and you felt yourself having to resist the urge to kiss each scar. His thumb would brush over your hand, and he would lower his lips to your ear, his breath sending waves of goosebumps over your skin.

“Thank you.” He’d say in a low voice, deep and mesmerizing. “For all that you do around here.” 

His scratchy beard would brush against your ear, as he turned his head, and pressed a kiss to your temple. He removed his hand from yours and left the area that was designated a kitchen in this old factory. You’d be left shaking, trying to catch your breath, not from fear, but just at the intimate moment he’d bless you with. 

There were many moments like that, but he’d never talk about it, because anytime you bring it up, he’d make you shut up with just a firm stare, and it led to something unspoken. There were countless moments similar to that you shared with him, each one never leading into anything more. You never kissed (on the lips), you never had sex, you barely even had a hug from him. Logan though, the sly dog he was, always found a way to get his lips on you, whether it was the top of your head, your cheek, the palm of your hand, your shoulder- hell he even got the back of your neck once. It was teasing, giving you just barely a taste of what it could be like. You picked up on it not long ago. He’d come up when you were distracted, say something sweet, and get his lips on you somewhere, and then walk away. It filled you to the brim with frustration because it always made you want more, yet he’d never allow you to do anything to him. You tried. You’ve tried to peck his cheek, his hand, anything. You’ve tried to initiate conversations and intimacy, you tried to be as sly as he was- but he’d always shut you down. The point is, that he’s stubborn, and he refuses to accept any affection from you, in any shape, way, or form. 

You practically worshipped Logan. He knew it too, there was no way he didn’t, with the yearning glances he catches from you, the way you’re so eager to help him, how you’d make his favorite meals, you’d pick up his favorite brand of cigars and leave it on his pillow for him to find when he comes home from work. You’d go out of your way to please him, and you knew him in every way that mattered. You didn’t need him to tell you how he was feeling because you could read his eyes easily. You knew that you could take good care of him. If only he’d let you. 

It’s okay though. With the way you felt about him, you didn’t mind his stubborn ways. You didn’t mind everything being unspoken. You knew that you would slowly chip away at his adamantium skeleton eventually. He would break finally, and let you love him the way he deserves, the way he always deserved. You’ve come to the acceptance that Logan had been through years of hurt, and that he wasn’t going to open up overnight. So as much as you desired him, physically, emotionally, spiritually, you just hoped and you prayed to whoever was listening- that you’d get the chance to make him happy before the man got himself killed. Or being the adamantium killed him first

You stared at the door, willing it to open, for Logan to walk in, his usual self, exhausted and grumpy as he shed his jacket. You’d ask him about his night, and he’d answer gruffly on whether it was good or bad. If you were lucky, he’d tell you about some annoying ass customer he had, and you’d smile and laugh, and then he’d barely crack a smile, because he got to make you laugh, even if it was just a moment. There were a few times you’d seen a hint of that beautiful smile breaking through, and every single time it took your breath away. 

You heard heavy footsteps, and you jumped up from your chair, almost knocking it down with how fast you moved, as you quickly ran to open the door and greet him. 

You weren’t expecting this.

He looked terrible. Worse than you've ever seen him. His usually nice suit was practically torn to shreds, blood, and dirt staining the white dress shirt. The bags under his eyes were deeper and darker than they were when he left hours ago. His salt and pepper hair was a mess. You could see his hands were shaking terribly, and he was leaning to one side, barely able to put his full weight on the other side. He looked at you, exhausted, and almost desperate as he stepped inside. You covered your mouth with your hand.

“Lo- Logan! What happened?” You finally exclaimed, quickly going to his side, and helping him walk further into the room. You pulled out a chair from the table and helped him sit- pulling off his jacket- making him groan in pain just from moving his shoulders and arms as you slid the jacket down his arms. You discarded it to the side, still focused on him. He just leaned forward, not responding to your question. You could see the bruises along his neck- and that’s when you spotted the holes- bullet holes that littered through his torso, have created torn holes throughout. “Logan-” You gasped as you observed his whole self. He barely grunted in acknowledgement to you. This was exactly what you were afraid of, some days, he’d come home fine, just cranky, and others-...This was the worst you’d seen him, and it made you fear the worst, terrified now that even if he gets through this, what will happen next time? You felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes, but you quickly swallowed them back, you couldn’t allow yourself to be overcome with emotion right now, especially since he needed you now. “Lo, C’mon.” You encourage, grabbing his arm to get him to stand. He wouldn’t at first, either because he was too weak, or he didn’t want to move. “Lo, baby, come on. Work with me here.” You said softly to him, and that seemed to reach him- as grunted, pushing himself off the chair- and you led him to the bathroom. You sat him on the toilet, while you turned to turn on the tap, letting it run to get warm, as you turned your attention back to Logan. 

He had tipped his head back, leaning against the back of the toilet, arms hanging limply over his thighs. His mouth hung open just a bit, as he took shallow breaths, his chest rising and falling with each, an occasional grunt of pain escaping him. You clenched your fists, pushing back the emotion you felt, as you moved to unbutton his dress shirt. His hand came up quickly, grabbing your wrists- somehow managing to still be so gentle as he grabbed you, and stopped you from continuing, and you looked up at him. His eyes hung half open, looking down at you

“Lo, let me take care of you.” You say firmly, your eyes staring back piercingly at him. “Please-” You brought your free hand to his cheek. Your thumb softly stroked over his cheekbone, where a small bruise was painted, his eyes fluttered shut at your touch, and slowly he released his grip on your wrist. 

You continued your mission. Carefully unbuttoning his dress shirt, you slid it down his arms in a similar fashion to his jacket. Next, you worked on the wife beater he wore underneath. You gently encouraged him to lift his arms upwards, allowing you to tear the ruined shirt from his skin. It made you gasp, seeing just how wrecked his torso was. You placed a hand over his chest gently, and his muscles flexed at your touch.

 “Did you…Expel the bullets already?” You asked quietly. He grunted and nodded quietly. You nodded with him. Then you looked down at his pants and took a deep breath. You brought your hand down, resting it on his knee. “Is it okay if I… help take these off of you?” You ask quietly. 

You could see his muscles flexing, tensing up, and holding like that. Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed harshly, and for a moment you wondered if you had gone too far, but then he nodded, flooding you with relief that you hadn’t pushed his boundaries. You brought your hands to his buckle, slowly unbuckling it, pulling the leather belt open, and then you moved to unbutton his pants. Your hands were practically shaking as you did so, your mind was going far off into places it shouldn’t. To be honest, this wasn’t quite how you imagined taking his belt- or pants off for the first time. Yet the moment, while not quite what you imagined, felt intimate nonetheless. You looked up at him. His eyes were shut tight, and his breathing was deeper, but more practiced like he was telling himself to breathe, it almost seemed that his nerves at your actions matched your own. That’s when it hit you. Nothing about this was sexual. You and Logan had your feelings for each other, both physical and emotional, but that was something to be addressed at another time. At this moment, he just needed you, to be what you’ve always been for him so you came into his life- his reason to keep going. You kneeled, working on his shoes, pulling each one off, and then his socks. You helped him stand, as he leaned against you, and you pulled down his pants- and his boxers. 

You kept your eyes away from that part of him, purely to be respectful. He hasn’t said anything, and you know he ain’t exactly shy. You wouldn’t want someone oogling at your body when you’re already in pain, and vulnerable, having to put your trust in someone taking care of you. Trust already wasn’t easy for Logan, and you weren’t about to break it or take advantage of it. 

He stepped into the tub and lowered inside it with your help. He did his best to silence his grunts and groans, trying not to be loud for your sake, but the warm water both soothed and stunned his body. His open wounds, only just now starting to heal, began to bleed into the water, as well as the dirt that clung to the lower half of his body slowly washed off. You grabbed a rag, dunked it into the water, and looked at him. You knew this moment was pivotal to your relationship with Logan, and it wasn’t because he was sitting here naked in front of you, or that he allowed you to undress him. It was because he was finally, finally allowing you to take care of him, the way you always wanted. You knew you needed to be slow, and gentle with him, as you began to wash over him, starting with his face, then his shoulders, his back, and finally his chest. Slow, soft circles as you began to wash the blood, the dirt, and the sins off of him. The water had become so dirty, that you had to drain the bathtub and refill it again, just to wash over him once more, this time with soap, as you ran your hands through his hair, scrubbing his scalp, before moving down to his shoulders, massaging at the tense knots you felt there. Logan had leaned his entire body towards you as you worked him over, eyes closed, an occasional pleased groan escaping him, whenever your fingers ran through his hair, or your hands brushed soothingly over an aching spot. 

“We’re almost done.” You say soothingly to him, as you squeeze the rag over his chest, excess water pouring out, washing away another layer of soap. “Then you can dry off, and get into bed, and rest. Okay?”

He turned his head to you. His eyes were more alert but relaxed. 

“You shouldn’t have to do this.” He muttered lowly, examining the details of your face. “This isn’t right. You…You shouldn’t be taking care of me, sweetheart. I don’t deserve it.” 

You looked at him, your expression turning into something soft. That’s why Logan refused you. He rejected your advances, all your attempts at getting close to him, because he didn’t believe he deserved it. You knew he struggled looking at himself like he was a good man, and you never understood why, because the Logan you knew, was a hero. Not because he served in wars, was a part of the xmen, and did all the glorious things that heroes did. He was a hero because despite all he went through, all the heartbreak and hurt- he still got up every day, and he took care of you. He took care of Charles. He kept enduring the hardships life threw at him- all for the sake of helping this one man, who saw potential in him and changed his whole life around. Logan could have left, he could have moved on from everything like he had for 200 years, but he stuck around for Charles, and you wondered if you’ve become a part of that reason too. 

You brought your hand to his cheek, looking him in the eyes. “Yes, you do Lo.” You say softly. There was so much more you wanted to say, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. He looked so exhausted, and so vulnerable. Now wasn’t the time for admitting feelings. “I want to do this. I want to take care of you, because you take care of me.” 

There was a moment of silence.

Logan brought his hand up to yours that cupped your cheek, and closed his eyes as he savored your touch. You kept him going. He avoided letting you reciprocate his affections because he believed you deserved better, that he didn’t deserve you and the worship he saw in your eyes every time you looked at him. How many nights has he resisted the urge to go into your room, climb into your bed, and show you how he really felt for you; Even tonight, as he got the shit beaten out of him, he thought about you- and he knew he had to make it back because the idea of leaving you alone in this world was too much to bear. He couldn’t let your hands touch him, your lips on his skin because he carried too many sins with him, and he wouldn’t want to ruin the good he sees in you. Now though, as you carefully wash him, gentle, caring, worshiping with every brush of the washrag against his skin, he felt that maybe he got it wrong. Maybe, instead of him protecting you from his sins…You could wash away his sins, and create something new, all for you to do as you please. 

Maybe now, he'll finally let you love him.