#i know it’s not much of a big deal for someone

[thepolyamorouspolymath]

In 2012, healthcare was all over the US election debate bc Obama care was new, and I had 4 kids and chronic conditions in the family in every direction and I'm sitting at a party, talking about it to this 22 year old, doing shots with him as he explained how he didn't really get why it was being made such a big deal, and I'm like yeah, bc you still have your parents insurance and bc you're 22 so probably in pretty good health overall. Do you know how much it costs to have a baby? To vaccinate said baby?

(It was awesome until half my friends decided we must be hooking up bc we were talking for hours... in full view, 5 feet apart about a damn policy debate which isn't generally considered sexy.)

But no, that part never occurred to him, because he'd been taught, like all Americans NOT TO HAVE ANYTHIJG OCCUR TO HIM. It's not that Americans inherently lack empathy, because they don't. It's that from birth on we are told not to worry our collective pretty heads about anything because our country is special and perfect and a shining city on hill bullshit and of course there must be things to help people who need it!

I'm one of the most politically aware people I know, and have been for decades. And I regularly still find myself forgetting to ask "what state do you live in?" When someone has a problem because Illinois has problems but they have more help than a lot of places.

[suiana]

yandere peacock x humming bird darling? :3

dont know about the humming birdbut i can DEFINITELY do peaCOCK yandere

in a world of demihumans, male peacocks are known for their bright and vibrant feathers. it is said that these feathers are usef to scare predators away and to attract any potential mates. however, in a society where looks are becoming more of the main focus, male peacocks have started to just use their flamboyant feathers to appear, well, more flamboyant. especially that one, your neighbour.

he's a flamboyant man, that's for sure.

he moved in next door and you haven't really saw him much. that was, until, he heard your singing and went 'holy crap, you're a beautiful singer'. well actually, you don't know if he said that. but he only started showing interest in you after you caught him standing outside the door to your karaoke room.

conveniently enough, that was when he started showcasing his... army of feathers, passing by your door several times as other neighbours complained about him blocking up the whole damn hallway. you live in a tiny apartment complex after all. that meant tiny hallways and little to no space to walk if someone decided to spread his feathers and pace up and down a certain door.

you don't know what to do except tell him you're not interested repeatedly. because let's be honest, do you really think this guy is gonna leave even after you reject him? he's just going to come back for seconds and say that he's simply showing his feathers because they're beautiful! not because he wants to woo you...

that definitely didn't happen already. yup, definitely not.

"𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓰𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓸𝓾𝓼..."

"good morning."

a quiet sigh escapes your lips as you lock your front door like you always do. lately though, you think that your door might be broken. it's always open whenever you return from your job. did you not lock it tightly enough? also for some reason there's always a hint of expensive floral fragance in the air. were you hallucinating? maybe a neighbour just bought some flowers?

well whatever, you'll just get a locksmith to see to your lock soon. maybe this weekend? as for the floral scent, it's no big deal. the scent is rather pleasant so you don't mind.

"heading to work, beautiful?"

you nod your head. yeah... another day of work at your boring job. you're really wasting your potential as a hummingbird demihuman. you could've been a famous singer by now!

orrrr... maybe not. you'd lose all your privacy if you became famous. no way in hell did you want that.

"be careful my pretty, i heard there's been a ton of accidents on the road these days. wouldn't want my neighbour to get hurt now, huh?"

oh how considera-

and there he was, flashing his damned feathers at you as a mysterious sparkle flashes around him. this... this stupid golden light that seemed to shine down on him, illuminating his godly sculpted features even more.

what a damn adonis.

no, he's more like narcissus. always admiring his beauty. you swear you've caught him staring at himself in a mirror store before while out shopping. that was one hell of a time.

you deadpan at him for a moment, just staring as he strikes pose after pose, body carefully twisted in such a way that would show off not only his feathers, but also his slender body. he's gorgeous, you have to admit that.

"have a good day neighbour."

"𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰- wait what? you're leaving already?"

your peacock neighbour deflates IMMEDIATELY, lips turning down into a pout as his feathers grow soft, falling down behind him. do his feathers act like a dick? you've always wondered that. they get hard and erect and soft sometimes. maybe you should ask him that someday.

"yeah, i have work dude. i'll be late if i stall any longer."

you waste not a single second before leaving him behind to pout childishly as a dark aura envelops him. you swear you even heard him mutter something about showing your boss who's in charge. what a weirdo. how would he even know who your boss is? dumbass.

what a weirdo your neighbour is, am i right fellas? definitely don't want him as your secret stalker, that's for sure! haha!

[y3sterdaysproblem]

⤷𝙛𝙬𝙗!𝙘𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚

 ⤷ 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ; 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤!𝘧𝘸𝘣!𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘹 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤!𝘧𝘸𝘣!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

{texts above are relevant to story}

cw: alcohol consumption

“chris!” you exclaim excitedly as you see the familiar blacked out bmw pulling up on the curb, pulling yourself up from the stairs you sat at outside the house you somehow ended up at. you were under the impression you and your friend would just be at her house, but when you ended up at a party with a bunch of unfamiliar faces, you knew you had to get somewhere you knew to ride out your drunken state.

he’s not even out of the car when you’re running up to the car and to the passenger door, trying to pull it open but failing miserably. “hey, chill,” chris says to you as he circles around the car, pulling the door open for you. “how much have you had to drink?” he questions as he watches you flop into the seat, the whole car wobbling from the force.

“umm,” you drawl out, turning your head up to look at him, eyes unfocused and darting around. “i’m not sure! maybe… nine drinks?”

chris’s eyes widen in shock as he looks down at you, noticing how hard it was for you to lock eyes with him. “nine drinks?” he asks, desperate to clarify.

“maybe more,” you mumble with a small shrug. “can we get like… taco bell or something?”

chris sighs and shuts the door on you, coming back around to the driver’s side and getting in. once he’s settled, he turns back to look at you again, seeing the messed up hair on the top of your head and the way your clothes seemed a little disheveled. he wonders for a split second if your state was fully to do with alcohol, or if somebody had put something in your drink without you noticing.

“yeah, we can get food,” he says, but doesn’t make any effort to move. “did someone slip something in your drink?”

“what?” you say, slinging your head around to look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “think my drinks were just really strong.” you finally say when you process his words.

“okay,” chris nods, eyes scanning over your face to see if you were alright. “are you gonna throw up or anything?”

you laugh and wave a hand at him dismissively, shaking your head. “no!” you say, reaching forward to place your hand on his chest. “you know i’m not a bitch.”

chris laughs and grabs your hand, bringing it back over to your own lap. “didn’t say you were a bitch, just asking if you need a bag or something. don’t want you puking in my car.”

you narrow your eyes at him and turn your body in your seat, crossing your arms. “you called me a raging bitch the other day,” you huff, raising your eyebrows sassily.

he’s not having any of it, not wanting to play into your confrontational switch, so he turns his body back to the steering wheel and puts the car in drive, pulling away from the curb. “because you were being a raging bitch,” he says calmly, eyes scanning over the road as he sets out on the route back to his place.

“what, because I wasn’t with you?” you ask defensively, feeling heat starting to rise up your neck, getting worked up over something that wasn’t even a big deal. “am I supposed to ask you for permission every time I want to fuck somebody else?”

chris’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel, jaw tensing at your words. he had to remind himself that you were only saying all of this because of the alcohol, but part of him wanted to fight back, wanted to put you in your place. “definitely not,” he responds lowly, eyes locked in front of him. “you really need to stop and think about what you’re going to say next.”

you scoff out a laugh and roll your eyes, turning back to sit straight in your seat, arms still crossed as you stare out through the windshield now as well, eyes still trying to focus on the road as it disappeared under the car. “still want food,” you mumble, lips pursed in a childlike pout. “you’ll get your food, just sit there and be quiet,” chris responds, reaching forward to turn the volume up to drown out anything you might say. you wanted to protest, but the heavy weight on your eyelids started to take over, and within the next minute you were asleep.

it felt like seconds had passed when the passenger door was being opened and chris was reaching down to touch your shoulder, shaking you lightly. “hey,” he said softly, trying to rouse you awake. “dude, get up,” he says louder, shaking you harder. you let out a groan as you come back to your senses, forcing your eyes open once again. “come on, let’s go inside so you can go to bed.”

you take another couple of moments to ground yourself and remember where you are, but you eventually swing your legs to your side and use every surrounding method of support to help you out of the car, feeling drunker than you did when you first got into it. “I feel awful,” you mumble once you’re standing in the driveway, reaching your hands up to rub over your face. chris just laughs and shuts the door before he wraps an arm around your waist and guides you up towards his apartment, his grip on you tight to keep you standing straight.

after stumbling up a couple flights of stairs and leaning on the wall while he unlocked the door, you both finally make it into his place and you immediately try kicking your shoes off, groaning when they don’t slip off with ease. chris chuckles at you again and crouches down to grab your foot to stop you, unlacing your shoes for you. “you’re a fucking mess,” he comments, straightening back up once both of your shoes were off, taking in your appearance.

your hair looked tangled from running your hands through it, and the way that it fell in front of your face made him realize you weren’t even aware of how messy it looked, your purse hadn’t even made it inside, left to spend the night in his car, and your makeup was smudged all around your eyes, already looking days old.

“you’re a mess,” you shoot back, bringing a hand up to poke him in the chest. “I am just… fucking…” you look down at yourself and groan, hands coming up to claw at your top. “get me out of this fucking corset.”

chris grabs your hands and pulls them away from your shirt, turning your body to guide you into his room. “alright, we’ll get you out of these clothes and you can pass out, yeah? sound good?”

you nod, more to yourself than anything as you walk into his room, immediately pushing away from him and going towards his bed, falling onto it face first. chris shuts the door behind him and comes to stand next to his bed, reaching down to rest a hand on the bare part of your back. “do you want to take your clothes off or sleep like this?” he asks, leaning down a bit so he could hear your muffled voice against his comforter, but between your slurring and your mouth buried in the blankets, he couldn’t make out your response, so he carefully rolls you over as to not jostle your stomach too much. “what’d you say?”

“off,” you repeat in a moan, laying limp on the bed with your head tilted to the side, eyes still closed.

“okay,” chris responds, his hands reaching out towards the button on your jeans. your head immediately pops up and looks down at his hands, then his face.

“woah, woah, woah!” you exclaim, reaching down with one hand to push his away frantically. “i’m drunk, chris!”

chris looks up at you with one eyebrow raised, moving to rest both hands on your thighs, your skin touching through the large rips in the fabric. “uh huh,” he nods, sliding his hands back up your hips. “which is why i’m taking your clothes off so you can go to bed,” he tells you in a slow, calm voice, like he’s explaining something to a little kid.

“oh,” you say in understanding, flopping back down onto the bed. “am I sleeping here?” you ask him as you feel his hands starting to undo your pants again.

“yeah,” he answers, pulling your jeans down and off of your legs, leaving you in your panties and a corset he can’t even begin to understand how to remove. “gotta keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t puke on your back or something.”

“ew,” you answer, eyes staring up at the ceiling, providing no help for chris as he undressed you. he reaches down and scoops his arms underneath you to pull you into a sitting position, to which you groan in disapproval. “wanna lay down.”

“I know, but I need to get this… fuckass shirt off of you first.” chris is clueless as he stares down at it, although he doesn’t mind the view too much. he sees what look like latches at the front of the shirt, and he can’t help but wonder why somebody would wear this to go out drinking unless they expected to sleep in it that night. “i’m about to just cut this shit off of you.” he huffs.

“no!” you whine, reaching out to grab his shirt while you tilt your head up to look at him, eyes pleading. “don’t cut my clothes pleeease,” you drawl, tugging on his shirt. “i’ll show you how to take it off, c’mon, you’ve taken my clothes off like a hundred times.”

he couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head in disbelief at your words, but then he agrees and gestures to the corset, ready to learn. “alright, show me then.” he says, taking a step back to watch. you look down at the corset and groan a bit, hands coming up to squeeze the sides together. “just… push it… together… and undo it.” chris watches for a moment, and he thinks he understands, so he steps back up to you and starts to unclasp your shirt, eventually getting it off and leaving you on his bed in just your underwear. you gasp in a deep breath at the relief and flop back down, eyes closing instantly. “so much better,” you breathe out.

chris tosses the corset on the ground and keeps his eyes locked on you, trailing over your body. he admires you in a way he doesn’t think he ever has before, taking in your vulnerable state and recognizing the level of trust you must have in him to not only ask him for a ride, but to lay here so drunk you couldn’t even undress yourself and know that he wouldn’t do anything to harm you. it sent a shiver down his spine, and he had to pull his eyes away from you before he thought too hard about it, turning towards his dresser to grab a shirt for you to sleep in.

he walks back to his bed once he finds an old shirt that he knew fell past your hips, seeing you curled up on your side and most definitely almost asleep, if you weren’t already. he reaches down and pulls the shirt over your head, maneuvering your body through the shirt until he pulls it down on your torso, covering you up. you’re pretty malleable like this, so he grabs your body and slides you up on the bed and under the blankets, finally letting out a sigh of relief when you’re tucked in.

chris runs his hands over his face for a moment before he turns and gets himself changed as well, which just consisted of taking off the clothes he had thrown on to pick you up, leaving him in just his boxers. he debated sleeping on the couch, or the floor, or anywhere that wouldn’t be in your line of fire if your body decided to throw up, but ultimately he talked himself into just sliding into bed next to you, making sure to keep his distance on his side of the mattress.

his efforts didn’t last long, though, because not even a few minutes after he laid down, you were turning your body to face him and scooting closer until you could wrap your arm around his waist and rest your head on his chest, letting out a small sigh of contentment.

chris is taken aback at your action, his arm that’s now around you extended out in discomfort, not knowing what to do in this situation. you guys weren’t cuddlers, it wasn’t a part of your routine when you would sleep together. lay in the same bed and catch your breath, sure, but cuddling was never in the cards, so he couldn’t help the way his heart picked up at your newfound closeness. it almost felt more intimate than being inside you, like you guys had crossed a line he didn’t even know was drawn.

you let out another soft breath, nuzzling your face further into him as you settled in, not noticing his disconcertment. “chris?” you mumble suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. he hums, letting you know he’s listening. “if you just let yourself open up, you’d be a really good boyfriend to somebody someday.”

your words are clearer than they have been all night, and it makes chris’s ears ring and his face go pale, though it’s undetectable in the dark bedroom. he doesn’t answer, unable to find a good enough response, and he deems it unnecessary when he hears small snores coming from your parted lips, like you hadn’t just said something that was going to send him into a spiral for the remainder of the night.

he finally lets his hand come down and rest on your back, staring at the ceiling as he thinks over what you said, trying not to focus on your body weight resting on his, and the way your manicured hand sat peacefully on his stomach while you slept.

you’d be a really good boyfriend to somebody someday.

he found that hard to believe.

a/n: they’re becoming REAL

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga @pip4444chris @chriss-slut @yourebeautifulqueen @watercolorskyy @courta13 @craftycrafter26 @meg4-matt44

[formerplumi]

USED A SUA IMG IN ONE OF YOUR BATFAM POST imagine a luka reader. the family desperate to reach you and due to lack of memories of what You were like since they all neglected you, started just making shit up about you. yes, of course youre angelic, kind and so darling to them! youd never hurt a fly and your soul is such a forgiving one... until they look you up online properly and see you gay baiting someone to get them shot

- prologue

PAUSE anon you cooked, omg. (for those who don't know who luka is i've put a very small summary of his character right at the end.)

honestly i've just been using sua as a poster girl, but a reader with luka's characteristics is so interesting... after being relocated from your "father's" underground business dealings to gotham to live with your real family, it'd be natural to stay reclusive because of the change in atmosphere.

i imagine a luka-ish reader would try to socialise more with the family than the current insert, but their attempts would be unmeaningly unsettling. an innate feeling would rise in the batfam that didn't make them dislike you, per say, just unintentionally avoid you.

you can't be much bothered with it, since even in your previous living conditions, there'd be people who liked you, and people who didn't. you knew how to work around it

so you redirect your focus. you'd been treated like an adult as you were being raised, so you had your goals and motivations figured out at this age already. for a handful of years in the manor, you'd work to keep up the fame you'd built up with your old "father", fame that slightly dissolved after your sudden disappearance from the screens; your escape from the industry.

eventually, when you decide to move out to perhaps further your prospects and influence, there's a buzz in the media at the sudden reappearance of the angle-voiced child star who was taken off the big screens after their "father" got involved with court dealings.

this is probably what eventually alerts the family to your absence in the manor, and in the shame that they couldn't notice it without the help of a third party, they scrounge around in their memory for good exchanges with you. just to have some semblance of the kid who wandered around aimlessly in the house. the kid they shooed away without ever actually shooing them away.

when they find nothing; they try to make stuff up. "angle-voiced child star", so you must've been soft-spoken, sympathetic, angelic person too, right? yeah, yeah you must've been a darling... how could they be so ignorant of you?

their shame somewhat morphs their unease at your old attempts to talk to them, into a shy child's timid want to talk to a new family in a new area, without any help whatsoever.

oh you poor, poor little kid.

i imagine it wouldn't be too difficult for them to find content of you, since your net-presence sky-rocketed after returning to the music industry. but ohh just imagine their surprise when they get access to an underground website streaming some sick stage-show human trafficking project, and see you there?? whatever are you there for? doesn't your fame generate a fortune? what in the world would you need to be on this... show for?

idk how the "getting them shot" thing could play into any other place other than a dark-web game show tbh. maybe they don't initially recognise that the videos up there are for such a thing, only after seeing you walk away from an applauding audience, get surprised by the sound of a shot and the image of your opponent lying dead on the stage ground, do they bother to investigate the ordeal. but this time, as vigilantes, and not failed family.

they'll just... save you along the way, yeah? 'save' you.

luka is a character from a series called alien stage, and you can find the episodes uploaded on youtube by vivinos. luka's established as a well known, famous character within the alien stage 'tournament', who's participated in the whole thing before, and has a significant amount of aliens/audience rooting for him.

his character on it's own looks beautiful, and is dubbed "prince" by his fans, but on his first appearance in round 5, he is portrayed as somewhat unfeeling and manipulative.

better characterisation is provided on alien stage's official accounts, with comics and patreon uploads. the "father" i refer to in the above imagine is referring to luka's alien owner.

[taxi-cab-to-slowtown]

can I add to this? I have horrible intrusive thoughts. Just goddamn awful some days. It’s like a voice in my head telling me to hurt myself in the worst ways possible and I CAN’T TURN IT OFF.

When I have a mental break where my depression is horrible and I’m actively feeling like self-harm, it’s much harder to ignore the intrusive thoughts. One day I was in a really bad place but I needed to go to the store because I missed dinner at the dining hall. I went to my friends and asked them if someone would come with me. They all told me “you have a car you can drive” but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that i wasn’t sure if my brain said “swerve into this ditch and blow up your car” I would be able to stop it. When I tried to explain that i didn’t know if i could stop my intrusive thoughts they said “just buy a milkshake it’s not that big of a deal.”

THIS is why it’s so damaging for people when you make light of ACTUAL MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES. When you say “I let the intrusive thoughts win” when you show off your red hair. An intrusive thought is not an impulsive thought and those with intrusive thoughts are ACTUALLY HURT by what you’re doing.

I need more people to actually read and listen to bipolar people discussing our own experiences because there's no reason i should have to spend an entire documentary series about elisa lam (who was bipolar) watching random youtubers say "Her behavior didn't make sense! Her mental illness had nothing to do with it!" about things that are all incredibly fucking common symptoms of bipolar disorder

[rafeysdeer]

dizzy (aka clumsy reader x protective jason)

civil!reader x jason todd

prompt: jason and his really clumsy girlfriend who is so used to her bruises from simply bumping around, that she forgets that it's not exactly the usual for other people to walk around with bruises. jason who isn't exactly happy to see his girlfriend hurt and makes it his new mission to take care of her.

a/n: that one i think it looks really cute, i'm also a really clumsy person, so it was pretty easy to come out with this one, him taking care of her was just so cute, i can sleep better knowing that they got eachother, anyways, english is not my first language, hope you guys enjoy it 💗

Jason was used to bruises and injuries, part of the job he chose, but he didn't expect that on a cold thursday night, he would find his girlfriend with a bandaged wrist and bruises all over her body, some that even looked old. He expected even less that she would give him a bright smile and run to hug him as if everything was normal, what he didn't know was that bruises and a bandaged wrist were just everyday nonsense for the clumsy girl.

"Honey, what happened to your wrist? Did someone hurt you?" he asks, carefully picking up her injured wrist to take a look, a worried expression on his face, his brow furrowed as he studies it. "Oh, it's nothing, I just got distracted and fell on it, it's okay."

And Jason looked at her face with a huge question mark on his face. "Did you fall on your own arm?" he said looking more and more confused. "Yeah? It was no big deal, really, I've had worse. Come in, i made hot chocolate" she said with the brightest smile on her face, as if she didn't have a fractured wrist.

He followed her into the apartment, the confusion never leaving his face as he slowly closed the door and followed her into the kitchen. Before he could even reach the cozy kitchen, he heard a soft groan of pain, followed by a muttered curse.

He rushes into the kitchen, afraid that she was hurt, even more hurt. And he was right, when he came inside, he found two colorful mugs of boiling chocolate with small marshmallows on the counter, some of the very same hot chocolate spilled around, and his girlfriend, with the hand that was not bandaged, under the cold running water of the sink, with a light burn on the torso of her hand.

"Love? What happened?" he asks, getting closer to her so he can see the injury more clearly. "Nothing serious, Jay, just a lil' burn, i'll be fine, just give me a minute to clean it up." she says, smiling and looking really calm for someone who just burned her own hand.

And as she moves to grab the rag to clean everything up, she bumps into the counter, holding onto it to steady herself, and it hits him, something finally clicks. All the times he watched her get hurt, bump into something or someone, get burned, fall awkwardly, it's too many to count.

She made a joke or two about being a distracted person and clumsy, but he didn't realize how much until now.

He smiled slightly as he watched his girlfriend try to balance the two mugs, knowing how this would end terribly, taking the mugs from her hand. "Honey, go sit on the couch, I'll take these." He noticed her frown, already starting to protest. "You don't have to do this, Jay, I want to help." But he was already interrupting her. "Sweetheart, please, you're going to help me by going sit on the couch." She huffed slightly but went anyway, sitting down and waiting for him to come right behind with the mugs, he put the mugs on the coffee table and went towards the bathroom to get the burn ointment.

And from that point, it just became a routine, her clumsily hurting herself, him taking care of her right after, and at some point it was like he had a sixth sense of when she was going to get hurt, being a vigilante also helped a lot with his reflexes.

So, they were walking down the street and she tripped? His arm was around her before her body could even dream of falling. They were cooking and she was cutting something? The knife was out of her hand before she could cut herself, and he told her to do something safer, like opening the dough.

And just like that, it became something of his, caring for her and looking out for her, knowing how to take care of her when she got hurt, and knowing how to stop her from getting hurt, and for that, she was eternally grateful.

[cauldron-of-oddities]

If this is Jinx's official (travel) map, I love it.

Most important:

Zaun (and Piltover) - Chez Jinx - house or home of Jinx, surounded by the sun and clouds and, most importantly, hearts 💖 - She still thinks of it as home, so I have good hope she'll go back. (And back to Ekko and the firelights and connect to her sister again)

And the travel lines go to and from Zaun several times, so maybe a drop-in isn't that rare. A cycle of travel, drop in for a kiss (let me dream) from Ekko, and then cause some mayhem for Vi and Cait to deal with and then travel again.

As for the rest? Love and have to laugh at her opinions, and if she's been to these places, it says a lot about her experiences.

Noxus - des mechants - bad guys - just no - there's an image of a square headed vampire (at least he has fangs) and angry scribbles - this was clearly not a good time.

Freljord- mega trop - mega too much - probably froze her butt off (her sense of fashion is no good here), trolls and who knows what else (I'm certain someone with more lol knowledge can add) She might have had fun making a snowman or two.

Demacia - bling bling and snobs - no translation required, what it says on the tin. There's a diamond there too, why do I have the feeling she's wanted for theft? I am guessing she had a blast causing chaos and left when she deemed them all party poopers with their heads stuck up in their pompous asses. (and a google search for prout prout informs me they're farts)

Targon - trop loin??? - too far??? I can't guess here. Has it been deemed too far or has it gone to far?

Shumira - hmmm, ok. - thoughtful, there's a cactus and a spiky critter. An interesting experience? Think she might have found some lore on Janna?

Ixtal - jungle magique - magical jungle - stars and a potion bottle - feels like she enjoyed it for what it was, probably got her curious mind buzzing, if how she was with hextech is anything to go by.

Shadow Isles - Habitants Maudits - Cursed inhabitants - ghosts and gravestones and all that creepy stuff - doesn't feel like she liked it there more like - yuck creepy, interesting but not for me. (and maybe looking 'death' and a curse like that in the eye is a deeply unsettling thing)

Ionia - trop calme - too calm - there's a sleeping head there, sheep, and a game of x&o. My guess is that she was bored, good for a nap, but too much looking for balance. Reading the info about Ionia, though, there should be quite the under current of tension - or is this prehaps hinting that Noxus has not invaded yet?

Bilgewater - Pirates - with a big giant heart. Yeah, I think she had a blast here. It's also where the drawn ship is headed. Free to indulge in more of her chaotic behaviours, picking uo bounties, pestering/ running from bounty hunters, hanging out at the bar. Jup, good time. I have been informed that she'd probably get along with several of the inhabitants and possibly make friends.

[echo-riot]

An: I saw someone else do a Jock! vi x reader and…I wanted to try a go at it too^^

Original idea: @loaksky (THEY ARE SOO GOOD AT WRITING YOU HAVE TO CHECK IT OUT, my writing isn’t half as good as theirs is-)

Title: Chemistry Off the Ice

Synopsis: High school chemistry takes on a whole new meaning when you’re paired with Vi, the school’s cocky hockey star, for a lab assignment. Known for her bad-girl reputation and irresistible charm, Vi makes it her mission to break down your walls. Despite her relentless flirting, you’re determined to keep things strictly academic—until a drunken night at a party and unexpected late-night confessions begin to blur the line

Featuring sassy banter, undeniable chemistry, and dramatic promposals, Chemistry Off the Ice is a slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers romance with plenty of fluff and heart.

Warnings:

• Swearing and mature language

• Brief mentions of underage drinking

• Themes of self-doubt and emotional vulnerability

• sexual content

• Over-the-top high school shenanigans

||———————————————————————||

The fourth-hour bell rings, signaling the start of chemistry, and you drag yourself into class with all the enthusiasm of someone heading to a dentist appointment. Mr. Tails is already at the front of the room, fiddling with his projector and trying to shush a few kids laughing in the back row. You glance at the empty seat beside yours, silently praying it stays that way for the rest of the period.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor breaks your illusion of solitude. You look up to see her. Vi strides in with the kind of swagger that makes her the star of every room she enters. Her magenta hair catches the fluorescent light as she tosses her bag on the counter and slouches into the seat beside you. She’s all sharp angles and cocky smirks, her light gray eyes scanning the room like she owns it.

“Alright, class,” Mr. Tails announces, clapping his hands. “We’re partnering up today for the molar mass and reaction rates lab. Take a good look at the person next to you—they’re your partner for the week.”

Your stomach sinks.

Vi leans back in her chair, folding her muscular arms behind her head. “Looks like we’re stuck together, huh?”

You force a tight smile, already regretting every decision that led you to this moment.

The lab instructions are written on the whiteboard in Mr. Tails’ barely legible scrawl, and you jot them down in your notebook while Vi lazily flips through the chemistry textbook.

“Alright, so first we’re figuring out the molar mass of this compound,” you mumble, tapping your pencil against the page. “I’ll handle the math if you grab the materials.”

Vi raises an eyebrow, her grin teasing. “What, don’t trust me with the calculations?”

“I trust you as far as I can throw you,” you shoot back without thinking, and Vi laughs—a low, rich sound that catches you off guard.

“Fair enough.” She pushes herself up from her seat, heading to the supply station.

You watch her for a second longer than you mean to. The way she moves is all confidence, like she knows exactly how to hold the world’s attention. You snap out of it when she returns, setting a tray of beakers and compounds on the counter with a loud clatter.

“Happy now?” she asks, leaning on the counter and smirking at you.

“Ecstatic,” you mutter, focusing on the measurements.

As the lab progresses, you realize something unsettling: Vi is smarter than you expected. Much smarter.

When she’s not leaning in close and murmuring flirty comments, she’s solving calculations in her head faster than you can write them down.

“You multiply the molarity here,” she says, pointing to your notebook, her finger grazing yours. “Then divide by the volume of the solution.”

You blink at her. “How do you even know that?”

Vi grins, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Guess I’m full of surprises.”

You hate that she’s right.

Her sharp intelligence only makes her insufferable flirting more irritating. Every few minutes, she tosses out some line designed to make you stumble.

“Careful,” she says, her voice low as you measure out a solution. “You spill that, and we might have to do mouth-to-mouth.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re not as charming as you think, you know.”

“Really? Tell that to half the girls in this school.”

There it is—the infamous player reputation. You’ve heard the stories: Vi breaking hearts left and right, leaving a trail of lovesick admirers in her wake. It’s almost impressive how shameless she is about it.

“Look,” you say, setting down the pipette with more force than necessary. “Can we just focus on the lab? Some of us actually care about passing this class.”

Vi raises her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. No need to get all worked up, princess.”

By the end of the class, you’re more annoyed than anything else.

Sure, Vi’s chemistry skills are undeniable, but her constant smirking and relentless teasing have you itching to escape. When the bell finally rings, you start packing up as fast as possible.

“Hey,” Vi says, stopping you with a hand on your notebook. “Same time tomorrow?”

You glance at her, noting the way her light gray eyes seem to catch the light, the playful edge to her grin.

“Unfortunately,” you mutter, pulling your notebook free.

Vi chuckles, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Looking forward to it, partner.”

As she walks out of the room, you shake your head, trying to figure out how someone so infuriating could also be so good at chemistry.

You’re not looking forward to tomorrow. Not even a little.

~~~

The next day in chemistry, you walk into the classroom with a sense of foreboding. As much as you’d like to think otherwise, the prospect of spending another hour with Vi feels less like an academic exercise and more like a test of patience. You take your seat, flipping through your notebook, and brace yourself.

Right on cue, Vi saunters in, late as usual, her bag slung lazily over one shoulder. Her light gray eyes scan the room before locking onto you, and that trademark smirk spreads across her face.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite lab partner,” she drawls, dropping into the seat next to you with an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Miss me?”

“Like a toothache,” you reply without looking up.

Vi chuckles, leaning on the counter and invading your personal space just enough to be noticeable. “You’re funny, you know that? It’s cute.”

“Funny isn’t what you’re going for, though, is it?” you retort, finally glancing at her. She’s wearing that same cocky grin, the one that probably works on every other girl in school.

“Depends,” she says, her voice low and teasing. “Is it working?”

You roll your eyes and turn back to your notes. “Not even close.”

As Mr. Tails starts explaining the second half of the lab, Vi leans closer, her breath warm against your ear.

“So, what’s it going to take?” she murmurs, her tone dripping with confidence.

You blink, caught off guard by the question. “What’s what going to take?”

Vi shrugs, her grin widening. “To get you to like me.”

You snort, louder than you mean to, earning a sharp glance from Mr. Tails. “I don’t think you can handle rejection, can you?”

Her eyebrows shoot up, feigning offense. “Rejection? From you? Oh, come on. Everyone likes me.”

“Not me,” you say firmly, meeting her gaze head-on.

For a split second, Vi looks genuinely surprised, like the concept of someone resisting her charm is completely foreign. Then her surprise shifts into intrigue.

“Alright,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “Challenge accepted.”

You groan, already regretting engaging with her.

The lab itself is straightforward enough, but working with Vi is anything but simple. Every step of the process is punctuated by her relentless teasing and over-the-top attempts to impress you.

“You know,” she says, carefully pouring a solution into a beaker, “I think we make a pretty good team.”

“You mean because I’m doing all the work?” you reply, adding a precise amount of compound to the mix.

“Nah,” Vi says with a grin. “Because I’m making this fun.”

You pause, glancing at her. “This? Fun? For who?”

“For you, obviously.” She winks, and you roll your eyes so hard it’s a miracle you don’t strain something.

By the halfway point of the lab, you’re ready to snap. Vi’s relentless flirting is like an itch you can’t scratch, equal parts annoying and distracting.

“Why are you like this?” you ask, exasperated, as you scribble down your results.

“Like what?”

“Like…” You gesture vaguely at her, searching for the right words. “This. All the flirting, the smirking, the—”

Vi grins, cutting you off. “The charm?”

“More like the ego,” you shoot back.

“Ouch.” She places a hand over her chest, feigning hurt. “You wound me, partner.”

You snort. “Somehow, I think you’ll survive.”

Eventually, you can’t take it anymore. You set down your pen, turning to face her directly.

“Look, Vi, I’m just going to save you some time here,” you say, your tone firm. “I don’t sleep with players.”

For the first time, Vi’s confident grin falters. It’s brief, barely noticeable, but you catch it.

“Players?” she repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” you say, crossing your arms. “The whole school knows your reputation. Short flings, casual hookups, leaving girls heartbroken—sound familiar?”

Vi doesn’t deny it. Instead, her grin returns, but there’s a new edge to it. “So, what, you’re saying you’re immune to all this?” She gestures to herself, her voice dripping with mock disbelief.

“Completely,” you reply without hesitation.

Vi leans closer, her gray eyes narrowing in challenge. “We’ll see about that.”

You roll your eyes again, turning back to the lab. “Good luck with that, Casanova.”

Despite her frustration, Vi seems more determined than ever. For the rest of the lab, she tries every trick in her playbook: complimenting your intelligence, cracking jokes, even pretending to mess up the experiment just to get your attention.

Nothing works.

By the time the bell rings, she’s visibly annoyed, though she hides it well.

“Same time tomorrow?” she asks, her tone almost mocking as she packs up her stuff.

“Unfortunately,” you reply, mirroring her words from the day before.

Vi chuckles, shaking her head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

As she walks away, you can’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. Vi might be used to getting her way, but you’re not about to make it easy for her.

~~~

On the third day of your forced partnership in chemistry class, Vi’s persistent charm offensive reaches new heights. You walk in, coffee in hand, determined to endure another hour of her relentless teasing without snapping.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Vi greets as soon as you sit down. She’s already there, twirling a pen between her fingers like some kind of suave protagonist from a bad teen drama.

“Morning, headache,” you reply dryly, taking a long sip of your coffee.

Vi smirks, undeterred. “Damn, you’re spicy today. Didn’t get enough sleep? Thinking about me all night?”

You shoot her a deadpan look. “The only thing keeping me up was imagining ways to escape this lab without getting detention.”

Vi laughs, a low, throaty sound that somehow makes your pulse quicken despite your best efforts to stay immune to her. “You’ve got jokes. I like that about you.”

“And I like silence,” you retort, pulling out your notebook. “Think you can manage that for once?”

For the first half of the lab, Vi is surprisingly focused, finishing her portion of the work faster than usual. You suspect she has an ulterior motive when she leans back in her chair and grins at you like she’s just scored the winning goal.

“So,” she begins, stretching out the word like she’s savoring it. “There’s a party at Ekko’s tonight. You’re coming.”

You glance at her, unimpressed. “That wasn’t a question.”

“Exactly,” Vi says, leaning forward. “Because I already know your answer.”

You snort. “Oh, do you? Let me guess—‘Hell no?’”

She shakes her head, that cocky smirk never faltering. “Wrong. It’s ‘Hell yes.’”

You raise an eyebrow. “And why, exactly, would I want to go to some sweaty, overcrowded house party?”

“Because,” Vi says, leaning even closer, “you’ve been working so hard trying to resist me. You deserve a night off.”

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a wonder they don’t get stuck. “Vi, I wouldn’t go to a party with you if my life depended on it.”

“Okay, but what if Ekko’s life depended on it?” she counters, grinning.

“Then I’d send flowers to his funeral,” you reply, turning back to your notes.

Despite your initial refusal, Vi somehow convinces you by the end of class. Maybe it’s the way she flashes you that infuriatingly charming smile, or maybe it’s the realization that you really could use a drink after dealing with her all week. Either way, you find yourself standing outside Ekko’s house later that night, already regretting your life choices.

The party is exactly what you expected: loud music, red Solo cups, and a mix of people you vaguely recognize from school. Vi finds you almost immediately, appearing at your side with two drinks in hand.

“Look who showed up,” she says, handing you one of the cups. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“I’m here for the free alcohol,” you reply, taking a cautious sip. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Vi grins. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart.”

One drink turns into two, then three, and before you know it, you’re blackout drunk. The night becomes a chaotic blur of questionable decisions and ridiculous antics. At one point, you challenge someone to a dance battle despite having zero rhythm. At another, you climb onto the coffee table to deliver an impassioned speech about the superiority of cats over dogs.

Vi, to her credit, stays by your side the entire time, equal parts amused and exasperated.

“You’re a mess,” she says, catching you when you nearly trip over your own feet.

“I’m a delight,” you correct, poking her in the chest. “And you love it.”

Vi chuckles, steadying you with an arm around your waist. “Sure, whatever you say, lightweight.”

By the end of the night, you’re slumped against Vi, mumbling incoherent nonsense about the IRS.

“You can’t take me home,” you slur, wagging a finger in her face. “The IRS will find me. They’re watching.”

Vi stares at you, torn between laughter and concern. “Uh, okay. Noted. So where am I supposed to take you?”

“Nowhere!” you declare dramatically. “I live… nowhere. I’m a ghost.”

“Right,” Vi says, clearly fighting to keep a straight face. “Looks like you’re coming to my place, then.”

You don’t protest, too busy mumbling something about the government tracking your movements.

When you finally reach Vi’s house, she’s surprisingly gentle as she helps you inside. Her cool exterior cracks just a little as she guides you to her room, trying not to panic.

“Alright, sit tight,” she says, rummaging through her dresser. She pulls out an old hockey sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, holding them up like they’re some kind of offering.

“Clothes,” you mumble, staring at her like she’s just solved world hunger.

“Yeah, clothes,” Vi says, crouching in front of you. “Think you can manage to put them on, or do you need help?”

You squint at her, as if weighing your options. “Help,” you decide, flopping back onto her bed.

Vi freezes, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Uh… okay. Cool. No big deal.”

She moves carefully, trying to maintain her usual nonchalant demeanor as she helps you out of your party clothes. Her hands are steady, but you can feel the tension radiating off her as she avoids looking directly at you.

Vi stops short as her eyes catch on the lacy fabric beneath your party clothes. She stares for a second longer than she should before snapping her gaze away, her ears burning as red as her hair.

“Uh…” she clears her throat, fumbling with the sweatshirt in her hands. “Fancy.”

You crack an unsteady smile, still far too drunk to process her awkwardness. “You like ‘em?” you slur, wiggling your eyebrows in an exaggerated manner that sends Vi into a full-blown tailspin.

“Just… just shut up,” she mutters, her voice tight as she tries to focus on anything but the fact that she’s helping you undress while you’re wearing the kind of lingerie she thought only existed in movies.

Her fingers brush against your shoulder as she pulls your dress up and over your head, and she freezes again. You’re too out of it to notice how tense she is, but her jaw is clenched so hard it’s a miracle she doesn’t crack a tooth.

“This is fine,” she mumbles to herself, determined to keep her cool. “Totally fine. No big deal.”

“Big deal,” you echo, your words slurred but teasing. You grin up at her lazily. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not blushing,” Vi snaps, her voice a little too sharp as she yanks the sweatshirt over your head. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You hum in response, unconvinced but too sleepy to argue. “Mmm… you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Vi groans, her head tilting back as if begging the universe for strength. “God, you’re impossible.”

“Admit it,” you mumble, your voice muffled by the fabric of her sweatshirt as she adjusts it on you. “You think I’m hot.”

She doesn’t respond right away, which surprises you. When you glance up at her, her expression is guarded, her usual cocky smirk nowhere to be found.

“Just… go to sleep,” she says finally, her voice softer than usual.

You frown, reaching out clumsily to poke her cheek. “You didn’t deny it.”

“Because you’re drunk,” she says, gently pushing your hand back down to your side. “And you’re not gonna remember half of this tomorrow.”

You pout, sinking back into the bed. “Maybe I will. And then I’ll remind you.”

Vi rolls her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitches in a reluctant smile. “Sure, sweetheart. You do that.”

She tucks the blankets around you carefully, her hands lingering just a little longer than necessary. For someone who acts so tough, she’s surprisingly gentle, her movements almost reverent.

“Goodnight,” she says softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face again.

“Goodnight,” you mumble, your eyes already drooping closed. “You’re still blushing.”

Vi doesn’t respond, but the flush on her cheeks deepens as she sits back, watching you fall asleep. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she lets out a quiet sigh.

“Yeah,” she mutters to herself, her voice barely audible. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

As you drift off to sleep, Vi sits on the edge of the bed, watching you with a mix of fondness and exasperation. She may act like she’s got it all together, but tonight has definitely thrown her off balance.

“Damn,” she mutters under her breath. “What the hell am I getting myself into?”

~~~

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the pounding headache, a dull, persistent throb that feels like someone’s taken a sledgehammer to your skull. The second thing you notice is the faint smell of detergent and something sharper—hockey gear?—clinging to the fabric covering you. You blink, squinting at the sunlight filtering through unfamiliar curtains.

You’re in a room you don’t recognize, dressed in an oversized hoodie that nearly swallows you whole and a pair of equally massive sweatpants. It takes your sluggish brain a few seconds to piece it together, but the faint memory of Vi’s smirking face and her cocky voice filters through the haze.

Oh, no.

The door creaks open, and you flinch, pulling the blankets up to your chin like some kind of shield. Vi strolls in, a cup of water in one hand and a small packet of painkillers in the other, her hair still messy from sleep. She’s wearing a tank top and boxers, her toned arms on full display, and there’s a smug grin plastered across her face.

“Morning, trouble,” she greets, her voice far too loud for your current state.

You groan, burying your face in the pillow. “Kill me.”

“Nah, I’m not that cruel,” she teases, setting the water and pills on the nightstand. “Here. You’ll need these.”

You glance at the offering suspiciously before reaching for the pills, your movements slow and deliberate as if the slightest wrong move might shatter you entirely.

“What the hell happened last night?” you mumble, downing the painkillers with a grimace.

Vi leans against the wall, crossing her arms. “Let’s see… You got blackout drunk, tried to fight a lamp, insisted you were in witness protection when I asked for your address, and then passed out in my car. That about sums it up.”

You stare at her, mortified. “I did not try to fight a lamp.”

“Oh, you did,” Vi says with a laugh, pushing off the wall to sit at the edge of the bed. “Called it a ‘government spy.’ Honestly, it was pretty convincing. I almost believed you.”

You groan again, covering your face with your hands. “Please tell me I didn’t embarrass myself in front of everyone.”

Vi grins, leaning a little closer. “Not everyone. Just me. And maybe Ekko. And, uh, half the party.”

“Vi!” you wail, throwing a pillow at her. She dodges easily, her grin widening.

“Relax,” she says, holding up her hands. “It’s not the end of the world. No one’s gonna remember half the shit you did anyway. Well, except maybe me. You’re kinda unforgettable, y’know?”

You narrow your eyes at her, but the way her grin softens into something more genuine makes your stomach do an unwelcome little flip.

Before you can dwell on it, there’s a knock at the door, followed by a deep, gruff voice. “Vi, you up?”

Vi’s expression shifts instantly, her grin fading into something more guarded. “Yeah, Vander, I’m up.”

The door swings open to reveal a large, burly man with a thick beard and a face that looks like it’s seen more than its fair share of fights. His eyes flick to you, still bundled up in Vi’s clothes, and his eyebrows raise.

“Another one?” he asks, his tone teasing but not unkind.

Your face burns, and you sit up straighter, trying to look at least a little dignified despite the hoodie hanging off one shoulder.

“She was drunk,” Vi says quickly, her ears turning pink. “I couldn’t just leave her.”

Vander chuckles, crossing his arms. “You’re a real saint, Vi. Always takin’ in strays.”

You bristle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “I’m not a stray,” you snap, a little sharper than you intended.

Vander raises an eyebrow, clearly amused, but he holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. My mistake.” He glances at Vi. “Just keep it down, alright? Powder’s still asleep.”

“Got it,” Vi mutters, waiting until Vander’s gone before turning back to you. “Sorry about that.”

You shake your head, still feeling awkward but grateful for the distraction from your hangover. “It’s fine. I should probably get going anyway.”

Vi frowns, but she doesn’t stop you as you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, wobbling slightly. She’s on her feet in an instant, steadying you with a hand on your arm.

“Whoa, take it easy,” she says, her concern breaking through her usual cocky exterior. “You sure you’re okay to leave?”

“I’ll be fine,” you insist, pulling away from her touch. “I just… I need to go.”

She doesn’t argue, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—disappointment, maybe?—that makes your chest tighten.

“Alright,” she says softly. “Let me at least drive you home.”

You hesitate, then shake your head. “I’ll call someone. Thanks, though. For, uh, everything.”

Vi watches you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before stepping aside to let you pass. “Anytime, trouble.”

The nickname makes your stomach flip again, but you push the feeling down, focusing instead on making it out of the house without further embarrassment.

As you step outside, the morning air cool against your skin, you can’t help but glance back at the door. You tell yourself it’s just to make sure you didn’t forget anything, but the truth is harder to ignore.

You don’t know what’s more frustrating—the fact that Vi’s cocky grin is still burned into your mind, or the fact that some part of you doesn’t want to forget it.

~~~

The first day back at school after the disaster of crashing at Vi’s place is hell. Not because of the homework or the typical high school bullshit, but because you can feel Vi watching you from across the hallway. Her sharp gray eyes practically burn holes in the back of your head every time you pass her locker, where she always seems to be leaning with that stupid, cocky grin.

You’ve made a decision—a firm, unshakable decision. Whatever happened at her place, it’s not going to happen again. Not the teasing. Not the casual flirting. Not her annoying tendency to worm her way into your thoughts without even trying.

You’re keeping things strictly platonic. Strictly professional.

Unfortunately, chemistry lab doesn’t make that easy.

You’re already seated at the lab bench, flipping through your textbook and pretending not to notice the sound of Vi’s boots as she strolls in late, as always. She drops her bag with a dramatic thud next to your stool and slides into the seat beside you.

“Morning, partner,” she says, her voice low and playful.

“Don’t call me that,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the page.

“What? We are lab partners,” she says innocently, leaning back in her chair. You can hear the smirk in her voice. “I mean, unless you’re asking to switch. You’re not ditching me, are you?”

“No,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Good.” She scoots her stool closer, her shoulder brushing against yours. “’Cause I’d hate to lose the best lab partner in school.”

You glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “Are you actually going to help with the lab this time, or are you just here to steal my notes again?”

Vi grins, leaning in slightly. “Depends. You gonna let me copy off you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Aw, come on.” She tilts her head, her grin softening into something almost charming. “I’ll make it up to you. Buy you lunch or something.”

You snort, turning back to your book. “I’d rather not get food poisoning, thanks.”

Vi places a hand over her chest, feigning offense. “Ouch. That’s cold.”

The teacher starts explaining the experiment, sparing you from coming up with a response. You focus intently on the instructions, ignoring the way Vi keeps fidgeting beside you—tapping her pencil, spinning her stool, drumming her fingers on the table.

It isn’t until you’re halfway through the lab, measuring out a solution, that Vi finally seems to settle down. Or so you think.

“You missed a drop,” she says, her voice low and close to your ear.

You jump, nearly spilling the beaker, and glare at her. “Jesus, Vi. Do you have to sneak up on me like that?”

She leans back, looking smug. “Just trying to help. Teamwork, remember?”

“I’m doing fine on my own.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” She gestures vaguely at the lab setup. “You’re really nailing the whole ‘one-person team’ thing.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to your work, determined not to let her get to you. But it’s hard to ignore her. The way she leans in just a little too close. The way her voice dips when she’s teasing you. The way she smells faintly of sweat and mint gum, a combination that’s annoyingly distracting.

The experiment drags on, and by the time you finish, your nerves are completely shot.

“Alright,” the teacher announces, clapping her hands. “That’s it for today. Don’t forget to clean up your stations.”

You start packing up the equipment, barely acknowledging Vi as she stands and stretches, her hoodie riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of toned stomach.

“See you tomorrow, partner,” she says, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

You don’t respond.

The next few days follow the same pattern. You keep your distance, only speaking to Vi when absolutely necessary. She, on the other hand, seems determined to make things as difficult as possible.

“Need help with that?” she asks one day, her tone laced with fake sincerity as she watches you struggle to balance a tray of lab equipment.

“No, thanks,” you say curtly, not bothering to look at her.

“Suit yourself.” She shrugs, leaning back against the lab bench with a lazy grin.

Another day, she “accidentally” knocks over a bottle of water, splashing your notes in the process.

“Whoops,” she says, not looking the least bit sorry.

You scowl, grabbing a paper towel to mop up the mess. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re fun to mess with,” she says cheerfully, handing you another paper towel.

By Friday, you’re at your wit’s end. You’ve been ignoring her flirty remarks, dodging her attempts to get closer, and shutting down her teasing as quickly as possible. But no matter how much distance you try to put between you, she keeps finding ways to get under your skin.

It all comes to a head during lab when she decides to take over the experiment without asking.

“Vi,” you snap, watching in horror as she dumps half a bottle of reagent into the solution. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Helping,” she says with a grin, giving the beaker a little swirl.

“You’re going to blow us up.”

“Oh, relax. I’ve got it under control.”

You snatch the beaker out of her hands, glaring at her. “Stop messing around. This is serious.”

Her grin fades, and for the first time all week, she looks genuinely frustrated.

“Why are you so damn uptight all the time?” she asks, her tone sharper than usual. “It’s just a stupid lab. Lighten up.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so uptight if you actually took anything in your life seriously for once,” you shoot back.

The room goes quiet, the tension between you crackling like static electricity. Vi stares at you for a moment, her jaw tight, before grabbing her bag and storming out of the room.

~~~

It’s one of those days where everything feels off, like the world’s spinning just a little too fast, and you’re stuck in the middle, trying to catch your breath. You’ve been dodging Vi all week—more than usual—and it’s starting to catch up with you. The tension in chemistry lab, the way you both keep avoiding each other’s gazes, and her frustrated silence every time you shut her down.

So, when the bell rings for lunch, you’re quick to dart out of the classroom, your thoughts a little too loud and messy to focus on anything else. The back alley of the school’s the closest thing to peace you can get, and you sneak around the corner, lighter in hand, a cigarette already dangling from your lips.

It’s not like you’re trying to be reckless; you just need something to calm the nerves, to block out the chaos of the day. The air’s cold, biting at your skin, but you don’t care. You’ve been feeling like you’re on the edge lately, and the smoke? It’s the only thing that makes it feel a little better, even for a second.

You lean against the brick wall, exhaling the smoke slowly and watching it curl into the air. Your thoughts start to drift, but not for long.

You hear the footsteps before you see her. The telltale heavy thud of boots you’ve grown all too familiar with. You freeze, the cigarette halfway to your mouth, but it’s too late. Vi’s already rounding the corner, and you can’t just pretend you didn’t hear her.

“Nice spot,” she says, her voice low and teasing as she crosses her arms, leaning against the opposite wall. “Didn’t think you were the type to sneak away for a smoke break.”

You don’t answer right away, flicking the cigarette butt to the ground and stepping on it with more force than necessary. The last thing you need is to get caught, especially when she’s here.

“Can I help you?” you ask, your voice colder than you intended.

Vi just smirks, walking closer. “Yeah, actually. I’ve been wondering when you’d stop being such a pain in the ass.”

You roll your eyes, pushing past her toward the exit, but she’s quick—too quick—and she’s blocking your path before you can make it two steps.

“Not so fast.” Vi grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “We need to talk.”

You stare at her, trying not to let the frustration you’ve been hiding all week show. You know where this is going. She always has a way of pushing when she wants something, and right now, it’s you. But you can’t give her what she wants—not when you’re still trying to figure out why she keeps coming back in the first place.

“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” you say, pulling your wrist out of her grip. “You should probably get going before you get caught.”

Vi isn’t backing down, though. She steps forward again, her eyes narrowing, her usual smirk gone. “You’ve been acting like a real dick lately, you know that? You’ve been pulling away from me, avoiding me, like I’ve got some kind of disease or something.”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Maybe you should take the hint, then. I’m not some idiot you can just string along for fun.”

She steps even closer, her face now only inches from yours, her voice quiet but intense. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

You hesitate for a moment, biting your lip. The words are harder to say than you thought they’d be, but they’re there, pressing against your chest like a weight you can’t shake.

“Vi, I’m not like the other girls you mess with,” you finally mutter, avoiding her gaze. “I’m not someone you can just hook up with and forget about. I’m not… I’m not some notch on your belt, okay?”

Vi’s eyes soften for a second, and for the briefest moment, you almost believe she might understand. But then she scoffs, shaking her head.

“Is that what you think?” Her voice is laced with disbelief. “You think I’ve been—what? Playing with you this whole time?”

You shrug, trying to hide the hurt you’re suddenly feeling. “I don’t know, Vi. Maybe that’s just what you do. You get bored, and then you toss the girl aside. I’m not interested in being part of that.”

There’s a long pause, and for a second, you almost think she’s going to walk away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. But instead, she grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Listen to me,” she says, her voice low and serious. “I wouldn’t have spent all this time with you if I didn’t give a shit.”

You stare at her, the words sinking in, but you can’t bring yourself to believe them. You want to. God, you want to. But there’s this nagging fear, this little voice in the back of your mind telling you that you’re just one more in a long list of girls who will end up discarded once she gets bored.

“I don’t need a pity party,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Just… leave me alone, Vi.”

You pull away from her, but Vi grabs your wrist again, this time with more force.

“Stop running,” she says, her tone harsh. “You think I’m just playing with you? You think I’m gonna toss you aside like that? After everything we’ve been through?”

You look at her, your chest tight with emotions you don’t want to deal with. “You’re not gonna change. You’re the same as all the others. You only want one thing, and then you’re done. So, no. I’m not doing this, Vi. Not with you.”

Her grip tightens, but she doesn’t say anything at first. It’s like she’s waiting for you to take it back, to say something that will make her think you’re not serious. But you don’t. You can’t. The fear of being just another girl who gets swept up and tossed away is too strong.

With a final, frustrated sigh, Vi releases your wrist, stepping back. “Fine. If that’s how you want it.”

You turn to leave, but then she calls out, her voice softer this time. “I’m serious about you, y’know. You don’t have to be scared of that.”

You don’t respond. You just keep walking, the weight of her words pressing down on you with every step. You try not to let it get to you, but damn, it does. You’re already second-guessing everything, wondering if maybe you’ve messed up by pushing her away.

But it’s hard to shake the feeling that, no matter what she says, you’re still just another girl who’ll get forgotten when she gets tired of you.

Later that night, you’re lying in bed, the room dark and silent, but your mind’s racing. Vi’s words echo in your head, over and over again: “I’m serious about you.”

You roll over, staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to do with the emotions that have suddenly surged through you. You’ve always kept your guard up—kept yourself distant, safe from getting hurt. But now? Now you’re not sure if that’s even possible. You’ve pushed her away, but maybe… maybe you’re wrong about her. Maybe you’ve been looking for excuses to protect yourself instead of just taking the leap.

You can’t stop thinking about her. About what she said.

“Stop running.”

And for the first time in a long while, you’re not sure if running’s the right thing to do anymore.

~~~

You’ve just about had enough of the monotony of chemistry class when Vi slides into the seat next to you. Of course, she’s late—Vi always is. You try not to notice how she somehow manages to look effortlessly badass even in the midst of a boring class. Her magenta hair is a little messier today, a few strands of it falling over her sharp eyes, which glint mischievously. She sits down, slinging her bag onto the floor with a heavy thud.

“Yo,” she greets, her usual cocky smile plastered on her face as she casually throws a glance your way. “You ready to mix some shit that’ll probably blow up in our faces?”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you grab your lab materials. “You’re something else, Vi. Always ready to burn the school down.”

“Only if I’m bored,” she retorts with a wink. “So, how’s the chemistry of our little ‘thing’ going?”

Your heartbeat stutters a little as you meet her gaze. You know exactly what she’s talking about. Yesterday’s confrontation in the bathroom is still fresh in your mind. The look on her face as she cornered you… that spark of determination mixed with frustration, and the vulnerability that she tried to hide.

You try to shake the memories off as you start setting up your experiment. You can’t let it mess with your focus. Not now. Not here.

“I’ve been thinking,” you finally say, voice low enough to avoid attracting the teacher’s attention. Vi quirks an eyebrow, leaning in slightly as she catches the shift in your tone.

“Oh? What about?” she asks, her voice casual, but there’s a hint of interest beneath the surface.

You take a deep breath. “About what happened yesterday… in the alley. With me pulling away and all that.”

Vi’s eyes soften for a moment, her usual playful mask slipping. “Yeah?” She leans back in her chair, watching you carefully, as if waiting for you to say what’s been on your mind.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” you continue, trying to keep the nerves at bay. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared, Vi. Scared of being just another girl you hook up with and toss aside like the rest. I’m not some notch on your bedpost, you know?”

There’s a pause as Vi stares at you, her gaze intense. The playful grin is gone, replaced with something more serious, something you weren’t expecting to see. The room feels a little colder as the silence stretches between you two.

“I get it,” she finally says, her voice a little quieter than usual. “I’ve fucked up, okay? I’m not proud of it. But that’s not what this is, not with you.”

You roll your eyes, half-expecting her to pull one of her cocky, smooth-talking moves. But when she meets your gaze, you see something in her eyes—something real.

“I’m not promising I’m perfect,” she adds, her hands resting on the edge of the table as if she’s about to lean in, to make her point. “But I’ll be damn sure I don’t make you feel like you’re just another hookup.”

You’re not entirely convinced. You take a long, slow breath, processing everything she’s said. Maybe she’s sincere. Maybe she’s not. You don’t know for sure, but you sure as hell aren’t about to let her off the hook so easily.

“Alright,” you say, looking her dead in the eyes. “I’ll give you a shot. But my rule still stands.”

Vi tilts her head, a glimmer of confusion crossing her face. “Rule?”

You nod, leaning in slightly, matching her gaze. “No sleeping with the player until you prove you’re not just some smooth-talking, good-for-a-few-quick-hits girl. You’re gonna have to earn my trust, Vi. And that doesn’t come easy.”

She grins then, wide and mischievous. The old Vi, the one you’re used to, comes flooding back in full force. “Oh, I like a challenge,” she smirks. “I’ll prove you wrong. You’ll be begging me to take you to bed before you know it.”

You roll your eyes, though there’s a warmth creeping up your neck. “We’ll see about that. But, no. I’m serious. You need to work for it. You need to show me you’re more than your reputation.”

Vi leans back in her seat, an exaggerated sigh escaping her lips. “Man, I gotta work harder than I thought. Guess I’ll just have to pull out the charm and start winning you over the old-fashioned way.”

“You better,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “Otherwise, don’t expect to get anywhere near me.”

She laughs, a genuine sound that’s enough to make your heart skip a beat. She may have been a cocky asshole at first, but now, with her little grin and the spark in her eye, you’re starting to see that maybe, just maybe, she’s more than her rep. Maybe you’ve been too quick to judge her.

“Well, alright then,” she says, the confidence returning to her voice. “You’re on. And you’ll see, I’m not like the rest of them. I’m not just gonna walk away from this. I’m sticking around. So you better get used to me.”

You can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe it’s time to let someone in.

The rest of the chemistry lab passes in a blur of Bunsen burners and half-hearted attempts at paying attention to the teacher. But through it all, Vi stays close. A little too close sometimes, but you don’t mind it. Her presence is comforting in a way that you didn’t expect.

At the end of class, as you and Vi gather your things, she bumps her shoulder against yours with a playful grin. “You’re gonna regret this,” she mutters, the challenge clear in her voice.

“I doubt it,” you retort, smiling back. “But you’re welcome to try.”

She winks, clearly enjoying the banter, and for a moment, you think that maybe you’ve made the right choice. Maybe this is worth the risk.

That night, as you lie in bed, you can’t stop thinking about what happened in class. Vi’s words, her challenge, her promise to prove herself—it’s all swirling around in your mind. You’ve given her a chance. You’ve made her earn it, and now it’s up to her to show you she’s more than just a hockey player with a reputation. It’s not just about the physical connection anymore. It’s about trust.

And for some reason, you’re starting to believe that she’ll prove you wrong.

~~~

You hadn’t expected to be here. In fact, you would’ve bet money that there was no way in hell Vi was actually asking for help. You’d seen her breeze through math assignments and talk her way out of any awkward situation without breaking a sweat, but here she was, standing at her front door with a crooked grin plastered on her face.

“You really want me to help you with this?” you asked, one eyebrow raised as you looked down at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand. The last thing you thought you’d be doing today was sitting in her living room, going over an English paper.

“Yeah,” Vi shrugged, her voice a little more sheepish than usual. “I can do math, gym, whatever, but English? Ugh. That shit’s hard. Besides, I heard you’re good at this stuff.” She grinned, obviously trying to play it off, but you could see the hint of genuine concern in her eyes.

“Sure, Vi,” you said with a smirk, pushing past her to step inside. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Vi’s house was a stark contrast to her bold personality—small, homey, and kind of messy, with a hint of charm. The place smelled like baked goods, and a couple of half-empty coffee mugs sat scattered across the kitchen counter. There was a comfortable chaos to it, a lived-in feeling that made you realize just how human she was underneath that tough exterior. The dark gray walls were decorated with mismatched frames, pictures of her and her friends laughing, her sister, Powder, posing next to a trophy Vi had probably won. You could see the pride in her eyes when she talked about her little sister.

“Alright, come on. Let’s get to it,” Vi said, plopping down on the couch and patting the seat next to her, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m trusting you not to make fun of me for my spelling mistakes.”

You threw her a skeptical look but sat next to her anyway. The couch creaked under your weight, and Vi shifted to get comfortable. “You’re lucky I’m doing this for you, Vi.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, pulling the paper closer. “Just get to it.”

You started reading through the paper, trying to suppress a chuckle at how bad it was. The content wasn’t horrible—it was clear she had a decent understanding of what she was writing about. But the grammar? God, it was a disaster.

“This isn’t a high school paper, Vi,” you said, glancing up at her. “It’s a goddamn warzone of commas and run-on sentences.”

She flopped back on the couch dramatically. “Hey, I didn’t pick this class. English is bullshit, anyway. What’s the point of all this crap? They want me to write essays about some old dead guys who probably didn’t even know how to spell.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, and despite yourself, you rolled your eyes. “Maybe if you took the class seriously, you’d pass without me holding your hand.”

She smirked, clearly unbothered. “Hey, I’ve got other talents.”

“Right,” you said sarcastically, pointing to the paper. “Like… this ‘talent’ of turning a page of words into a cluster of bad choices?”

“Shut up,” she grinned, nudging your shoulder with hers. “Just fix it, okay? I’m pretty sure you could get an A for me, and I can’t be bothered to put in all that work.”

You sighed, but a part of you was willing to help. Vi had this way of making you care more than you probably should. You leaned in, scratching out a few of the sentences, rearranging them, and fixing the punctuation like it was no big deal. As you worked, Vi leaned in too, hovering just a little too close for comfort. The occasional brush of her arm against yours made you hyperaware of her presence.

“So, what do you even do for fun when you’re not wrecking your body on the rink?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation light, even as the proximity between you two seemed to increase with every move.

Vi looked at you, her expression turning slightly softer. “I… well, I don’t know. Hockey’s pretty much my thing. I guess I do some shit like play video games with Powder and the guys when we’re not at practice.”

You paused, taking a second to really look at her. The tough, cocky exterior cracked just enough for you to glimpse the person underneath—the girl who was still figuring herself out, who probably felt like she had to put up walls to protect herself. She wasn’t just a jock or the “bad girl” everyone thought she was. No, she had layers.

“You’re a gamer, huh?” you asked with a raised brow. “What games?”

She grinned, her usual cockiness slipping back in place. “Not that you’d understand, but I’m all about the classics. Got an old-school console in my room. You ever played Crash Bandicoot?”

Your eyes widened. “The classic? Hell yeah, I love that game. What else do you play?”

Vi laughed, clearly amused. “You’re telling me you play the same stuff? What are you, a 90’s kid or something?”

“I am a 90’s kid,” you shot back, nudging her. “It’s all about the classics.”

“Damn, I gotta admit, that’s kind of cute.” Her voice was quieter now, almost teasing, as she bumped her shoulder against yours again. “Maybe we should play sometime.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’ll have to beat me first.”

Her eyes lit up with the challenge, and for a moment, you both just locked gazes, the tension thick between you. She was still that cocky, determined girl who wouldn’t back down from anything, but now, you were starting to see the softer side of her—the one that liked the idea of playing games just for fun, the one that didn’t need to be the toughest girl in the room.

“Alright, alright, I’ll let you have that one,” she finally said, returning to her paper. “But I’m telling you, I’m winning next time.”

“Keep dreaming, Vi,” you teased as you finished up her paper, handing it back with a satisfied smile. “All done. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Vi grabbed the paper, her expression still full of playful cockiness, but there was something else in her eyes too. Something warmer. “Thanks, teacher. I guess you’re not totally useless after all.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you said, grinning. “I’m not helping you with the next one. You’ll have to figure that out yourself.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage. You just wait,” she shot back, the flirtatious edge in her voice making your stomach flutter, just a little.

You both sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, each of you catching your breath, your shoulders still brushing lightly from time to time. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t casual, either. It was something in-between, and neither of you seemed eager to break the moment just yet.

“I’ll walk you out,” Vi said, standing up and stretching, her muscles rippling beneath her hoodie. She reached a hand out to help you up, her touch lingering just long enough to make you feel like there was more between you two than you were willing to admit.

As you both headed to the door, Vi stopped for a moment, looking back at you with a soft smirk. “You’re not half-bad, y’know?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Flirting with me now?”

She chuckled, her usual cocky self returning, but there was something in her smile that felt real, more genuine than it had in a long time. “Maybe. But you’ve still got a long way to go before you can outplay me. Just remember that.”

With a wink, she closed the door behind you, leaving you standing outside, the faintest smile on your face.

You couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on between you two. Vi wasn’t like anyone else you’d ever met. She was tough, cocky, and didn’t take shit from anyone. But maybe there was more to her than the surface you’d been seeing.

~~~

The week flew by faster than expected. Vi had kept her promise, sticking to her word about taking things slow and never pushing you beyond your comfort zone. There was a comfort in how she respected your boundaries, the way she seemed to instinctively know when to back off and when to push you just enough to make you want more. It was a quiet kind of intimacy, one built more on trust than anything else. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this comfortable around someone, especially someone like Vi.

The mornings were filled with casual hellos as you passed each other in the hallways, and the afternoons were spent hanging out at her place, doing everything from aimless walks around the neighborhood to sitting in her room, playing dumb games on your phones—like Roblox, of all things. It was ridiculous, but it worked. She’d distract you with her stupid jokes, and you’d laugh so hard your stomach ached. The time you spent together felt like a mix of pure chaos and unexpected moments of peace, and you didn’t want it to end.

One evening, it was just the two of you again, sprawled out on her bed, half-arguing about some random thing you were doing in the game. You weren’t even sure what you were doing anymore; the game was background noise to the vibe that was building between you both. Vi was lying on her back, one arm propped behind her head, eyes glued to her phone screen while you focused on your own. It wasn’t much, just you two existing in the same space. The air was thick with something that neither of you were acknowledging—yet.

“Yo, you’re really bad at this,” Vi teased, her voice rough and playful. You rolled your eyes, smacking her arm.

“Shut up, you’re just mad ‘cause I’m better than you.”

She snorted, flicking your forehead. “Not even. You’re just lucky.”

A beat of silence passed, and her eyes flicked over to you, the playful glint in her gaze turning into something softer. “You’re always so focused on your phone. Like, you never actually pay attention to me.”

You lifted your head, arching an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smirked, her voice dipping lower, teasing. “You’re just distracted. It’s cute, though. But I guess I’ll have to make you pay attention.”

The atmosphere shifted, and it wasn’t because of anything she said. It was in the way she said it, the way her voice softened at the end, laced with a challenge you couldn’t ignore. You felt your heartbeat pick up, the tension hanging in the air, thick with unspoken words.

You opened your mouth to reply, but then Vi was suddenly closer, her phone tossed aside, her hand gently resting on your arm. The subtle touch made your breath hitch in your throat. You swallowed hard, but she was already leaning in, eyes flicking to your lips and back to your eyes.

There was no turning back. You didn’t want to turn back.

And then, she kissed you. Softly, tentatively at first, just a press of lips that sent sparks through your entire body. Her hand found your cheek, gently cupping it, as if trying to pull you deeper into the moment. You kissed her back, slower at first, just savoring the connection, the feel of her lips against yours, the taste of something sweet and unspoken.

But as soon as you let yourself sink into it, something shifted—something raw and desperate. She pulled you closer, her body leaning into yours, and you felt the heat between you both intensify. You had no idea how you ended up this close, how everything blurred into one single feeling. Her hands were everywhere, pressing into your back, your waist, and you could feel her heart beating against your chest.

When she pulled away just a little, her forehead resting against yours, the breathless space between you felt electrified. You didn’t speak, but the world was still spinning in that moment.

“I don’t know what this is,” you whispered, the words barely audible in the quiet space between you.

Vi’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Does it matter?” She pressed her lips to yours again, this time with a little more urgency, as if trying to communicate everything she couldn’t say.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and suddenly, everything seemed so much clearer. She was everything you didn’t expect, but everything you needed. And in that instant, you couldn’t fight it anymore.

“I—” you started, but your words were lost when her hand slid down your side, making your breath catch.

The truth hit you all at once.

You were tired of playing by the rules. Of being cautious. Of hiding behind walls you didn’t need. Vi had a way of knocking them down without even trying, and you wanted nothing more than to be close to her. She’d made the first move, and you weren’t going to pretend like you didn’t want it. You weren’t going to lie to yourself anymore.

“I think you’ve got me,” you murmured, a small, shaky laugh escaping your lips.

Vi pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes searching yours, trying to make sure you were serious. “Yeah?”

Your chest tightened, your pulse racing, but this time, it was all excitement. “Yeah.”

And with that, she kissed you again, more fiercely this time, like she’d been waiting for you to catch up. You didn’t resist; you didn’t want to. And as the kiss deepened, you felt the last of your reservations slip away. You weren’t sure where this was going, but for the first time in a long time, you didn’t care. You were done pretending you didn’t want this. Done holding back.

You blinked at her, still reeling as she pulled back. “Vi…”

“Don’t overthink it,” she interrupted, brushing a strand of hair from your face. Her fingers lingered against your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. “Just…be here with me. Right now.”

It was a simple request, but it carried so much weight. This was Vi, after all—reckless and impulsive Breaking rules was practically her brand. And yet, despite her reputation, despite everything, you believed her.

So you nodded, and she smiled—a real smile, not her usual smirk. Then she kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the connection. Her hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. One of her legs hooked over yours, anchoring you together, and you gasped into her mouth.

“Relax,” she murmured, her lips trailing along your jaw. “I’ve got you.”

The words sent a wave of heat through you, and you arched instinctively into her touch. Her hands roamed your back, fingers pressing into your skin as if mapping every curve. When they dipped lower, grazing the waistband of your jeans, you shuddered.

“Vi…” you breathed, your voice shaky.

She paused, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” she said, her tone serious despite the hunger in her eyes.

You shook your head quickly. “Don’t stop.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. Her lips crashed into yours again, fiercer this time, and her hands slid under your shirt, fingers skimming over your stomach. The sensation was electric, and you moaned softly against her mouth, your nails digging into her shoulders.

Vi chuckled, the sound deep and satisfied. “Thought you might like that,” she teased, nipping at your lower lip before sucking gently.

Your hips bucked involuntarily, and she groaned, grinding against you in response. The friction was maddening, leaving you desperate for more. You tugged at her tank top, needing to feel her skin against yours, and she obliged, pulling it off in one fluid motion.

The sight of her bare chest stole your breath. Her toned muscles gleamed in the dim light, every scar and bruise telling a story of its own. You reached out, tracing the line of her collarbone with trembling fingers, and she shivered under your touch.

“Fuck, your hands…” she muttered, closing her eyes briefly. Then she leaned in, capturing your lips once more as her own hands worked to remove your shirt and bra.

The cool air hit your skin, raising goosebumps, but Vi’s warmth chased them away. Her palms slid up your sides, cupping your breasts as she kissed down your neck. When her teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear, you gasped, your head falling back.

“God, you’re beautiful,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

You couldn’t respond, too lost in the sensations rippling through you. Her tongue swirled over your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak, and you whimpered, your back arching off the bed.

“Vi, please…” you begged, though you weren’t even sure what you were asking for.

She seemed to understand anyway. Her hand slipped between your legs, rubbing slow circles over the fabric of your jeans. The pressure was delicious, and you rocked into her touch, chasing the pleasure building inside you.

“Is this what you need?” she asked, her voice husky.

You nodded frantically, unable to form words. She smirked, clearly pleased with herself, and unbuttoned your jeans with practiced ease. Her fingers hooked into the waistband, tugging them down along with your underwear, and the cool air against your heated skin made you gasp.

Vi knelt between your legs, her gaze raking over you with an intensity that made your stomach flip. “Look at you,” she breathed, her voice filled with awe. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Before you could respond, she lowered her head, her tongue swiping slowly up your folds. The sensation was almost too much, and you cried out, your hands tangling in her hair.

“Shh,” she soothed, glancing up at you with a wicked grin. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

And then she dived in, her tongue circling your clit with expert precision. You writhed beneath her, clutching the sheets as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Her name spilled from your lips in a broken chant, each syllable trembling with need.

Vi alternated her movements, switching between fast, flickering strokes and slow, deliberate ones, keeping you teetering on the edge. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, she slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right and hitting that spot that made stars explode behind your eyes.

“Oh my god!” you screamed, your hips jerking uncontrollably.

“That’s it,” Vi encouraged, her voice muffled against you. “Come for me, baby.”

The command shattered whatever restraint you had left. Your orgasm ripped through you, blinding and all-consuming, and you bucked wildly against her mouth, your cries echoing through the room.

Vi stayed with you through every wave, her tongue and fingers working tirelessly until you finally collapsed, boneless and spent. She crawled up your body, planting soft kisses along your stomach and chest before reclaiming your lips.

~~~

You didn’t sleep much that night. The buzz of Vi’s touch, her lips on yours, was still alive on your skin as you lay there, replaying every moment over and over. You’d finally given in, allowed yourself to trust, and now, the morning after, you were left with the consequences.

The most obvious consequence? The cluster of hickeys on your neck, dark red marks that stood out against your skin like graffiti on a clean wall. You didn’t even realize they were there at first. The heat of the moment had distracted you, and by the time you noticed, there wasn’t much you could do about it. Covering them up with makeup wasn’t an option, so you were left with a bad case of “wear your mistakes like a badge of honor” as you scrambled to throw on a hoodie and pray no one would notice.

But, of course, they did.

As you walked through the hallways of the school, you could practically feel the eyes of your classmates on you. The whispers were subtle at first, but you heard them all. “Look at her neck… is that… is she…?” It didn’t take much to piece together what they were talking about. You hated the attention. Hated how exposed you felt, like everyone could see right through you. And it wasn’t even just the rumors you were worried about—it was the thought of Vi.

What if she didn’t care about this, about you?

You barely made it to your first class before someone asked, “Did you get jumped last night or something?” That stupid, offhand comment sent your nerves into overdrive. Of course, you laughed it off, trying to act like it was no big deal, but inside, you were panicking.

And then there was Vi.

Her presence was like a weight on your chest, but you couldn’t escape it. You spotted her in the hallway between classes, her signature cocky smirk on display, as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She leaned against the locker like she owned the place, her muscles flexing underneath her hoodie. The crowd around her parted like the Red Sea, as it always did. You felt your stomach twist.

The moment your eyes met, she grinned. The mischievous glint in her eye was there, always there, but this time there was something else in it too—a challenge, maybe. A wink, and then she pushed off the locker to walk toward you, the smirk never leaving her lips.

You felt the heat rise in your face as she got closer, but you tried to stay cool. It wasn’t like you didn’t know what she was doing. Vi loved the effect she had on people, the way her mere presence could make anyone feel like they were under a magnifying glass. She was confident, magnetic, but right now, you couldn’t help but feel like you were in over your head.

“You look good today,” she said, her voice low and teasing, completely unfazed by the hickeys on your neck.

You blinked, caught off guard by the casualness of her tone. It didn’t seem like she was embarrassed. You, on the other hand, wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “Uh, thanks,” you mumbled, your eyes darting nervously around, trying to gauge how people were reacting.

Vi didn’t follow your gaze. Her hand found its way to your shoulder, fingers brushing against the fabric of your hoodie, and for a split second, you felt the world fade away. But only for a second. The whispers were still there, and you could feel the weight of their judgment.

“Everything okay?” Vi asked, her eyes narrowing with concern. “You seem kinda tense today. What’s going on?”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to explain the chaos in your mind. “It’s nothing. Just—” You gestured vaguely at your neck. “People are noticing.”

Vi’s smirk softened into something more like amusement, but there was a flicker of something else behind her eyes, something you couldn’t quite read. “So what? Let ‘em talk. They’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” You scoffed. “Of what, exactly?”

She shrugged, unfazed by your sarcasm. “You’re mine. And they can see it. So, if they wanna talk, let ‘em talk.”

That should’ve been enough to ease your nerves. After all, Vi was the star athlete, the girl everyone wanted to be. She was used to attention. She was used to being the one people ogled. You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite—awkward, quiet, out of place in this chaotic world. You couldn’t shake the feeling that your insecurities were written all over your face.

Vi, as if sensing your hesitation, stepped in closer, her hand brushing against the small of your back as she leaned in slightly, her lips just brushing your ear. “I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks, babe,” she whispered. “This thing between us? It’s between us. Got it?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew she meant it. Vi always meant what she said—when she cared about something, she went all in. It was just hard to reconcile that with the way you felt about yourself.

You weren’t like her. You weren’t the center of attention, the girl everyone was drawn to. You were the opposite—the quiet one, the one who spent more time in her head than engaging with the world around her.

Vi was everything you weren’t, but maybe that was what made it work. She had this confidence that practically radiated off of her, and it felt like she was constantly pulling you into her orbit, making you feel like you could be confident, too, even if it was only for a moment.

But deep down, you still couldn’t shake the question: Did she actually want to make this public?

Did she want to be with someone like you, someone who was so different from her? Or was this just another one of her flings, something she’d eventually tire of, leaving you with the pieces of your broken heart?

Before you could dwell on it any longer, Vi leaned back, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips as she straightened up. “You’re overthinking it, babe. Relax. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t feel entirely reassured, but you didn’t have the time to question her further. As much as you wanted to have a heart-to-heart, as much as you needed to know what this really was, the bell rang. Vi gave you a playful shove toward your next class, the kind of shove that told you everything was fine—at least, for now.

~~~

The moment you step through the cafeteria doors, you spot Vi. She’s leaning against the wall with her usual cocky grin plastered on her face, but she’s not just waiting for you. No, she’s got something planned. Something big.

You try to avoid her gaze, but it’s impossible. She’s got that confidence that fills up a room like it owns the place. You swear she has a magnet in her chest that just pulls all eyes to her. And today? Today it’s your turn. You’re stuck in her orbit whether you like it or not.

You try to focus on something, anything, but Vi’s energy is infectious, like a wildfire spreading through the room. And then, it happens.

Without warning, she’s up on top of the lunchroom table, eyes sparkling with mischief as the entire cafeteria quiets down. People start whispering, murmuring about what the hell is going on, but it doesn’t matter. Vi’s got the room’s attention, and she’s loving every second of it.

You’re already cringing, knowing what’s coming. You should’ve expected it. She stands tall, one hand holding a massive poster, the other in the air like she’s about to give a speech.

And then, she says it.

“Hey, (Y/N),” she yells, making sure every person in the room can hear her. “It would be pucking awesome if you’d go to prom with me!”

Your heart nearly stops in your chest. Oh, god. No. This cannot be happening.

The poster reads exactly as she said, written in bold, bright letters: It would be pucking awesome if you go to prom with me with the last words underlined for dramatic effect. And just to make it even worse, the entire girls’ hockey team is behind her, dressed in their jerseys, grinning like maniacs. Some of them are even clapping, egging Vi on, while others are cheering and whooping.

The entire room goes completely still. Not a single sound can be heard, except for your pulse in your ears. You can feel the heat rush to your face as you shrink back, desperately trying to hide behind the nearest lunch table. You’re mortified. Absolutely mortified.

Vi jumps down from the table, her boots making a satisfying thud as they hit the ground. She’s strutting toward you like she owns the place, and you can barely breathe as she reaches into her bag. She pulls out a single flower, a bold, red rose, and hands it to you with that same unbothered grin.

It’s cheesy. It’s ridiculous. It’s… Vi.

“Uh, yeah,” she says, voice low but still carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. “That’s for you, (Y/N). Prom? With me?”

You just stare at her, completely dumbfounded. What the hell is she thinking? What is this? Is she serious? Because if she is, this is… this is a level of public embarrassment you’re not sure you can handle.

“Vi!” you hiss, eyes darting around the room as you clutch the flower in your hand. “What the hell was that? In front of all these people? Are you trying to make me die of embarrassment?”

She shrugs casually, not even fazed by the attention. “What’s the big deal? I like you. I want you to go to prom with me. Why should I hide it?”

You want to yell at her. You really do. The way she’s acting like this is no big deal only makes it worse. But her tone, her sincerity—fuck, why does it make your heart race in a way that makes no sense?

“I don’t care what anyone thinks,” she continues, not even looking around at the still-staring crowd. She’s unapologetic, completely unbothered. “You and me? We’re a thing. And I’m gonna let everyone know.”

“You can’t be serious right now,” you mutter, still trying to process the overwhelming chaos of it all. “This is insane.”

“I am serious,” she says, and her smile softens just a little. “You’ve got to stop worrying about what other people think, (Y/N). It’s us. That’s all that matters.”

You glance at her, unsure of what to make of the vulnerability in her eyes. It’s a side of her you don’t often see, especially not in the midst of all the attention. And then it hits you—maybe, just maybe, this isn’t just some stupid joke to her. She’s actually trying to do something real. She wants you. She wants this to be something more.

“Vi, this isn’t funny,” you say quietly, feeling the weight of everyone’s stares on you. “You can’t just… throw this out there like it’s nothing.”

She steps closer, her grin widening again, that playful glint returning to her eyes. “Yeah, well, if it makes you feel better, I’ll be your personal spotlight for the rest of the day,” she teases, nudging your shoulder with her.

You want to tell her to stop, to get away from the center of attention, but your chest tightens. The thing is, as much as you hate the spectacle of it all, there’s a part of you—deep down—that’s actually touched by her boldness. She wants you, and she doesn’t care who knows about it.

For all her cockiness and bravado, she’s laying it all out there, no apologies, no hesitation.

You glance down at the flower in your hand, the red petals standing out against your clammy palm. You wish you could just disappear, but Vi’s there, looking at you with that grin that somehow manages to make you feel like the only person in the room.

“Okay, okay,” you mutter, trying to keep the nerves from taking over your voice. “I’ll go to prom with you. But you owe me for the public humiliation, alright?”

Vi laughs, loud and unrestrained, before she leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, a brief, soft thing that makes your knees weak. “Deal,” she says with that characteristic grin of hers. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

And despite the chaos, despite the fact that you just agreed to go to prom with the school’s biggest attention magnet, part of you already knows that it’s going to be fucking awesome.

~~~

The evening air is crisp as you stand at the front door, waiting. Your heart is pounding, and no amount of deep breaths is making it better. You’ve been nervously fidgeting for the last hour, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You’ve never been one for big events like this—prom was always something that seemed… unreachable, too perfect. But tonight? It’s not some fantasy. It’s real. You’ve got a hot date who happens to be a badass hockey player with a reputation that could make a lot of people sweat.

You adjust your outfit for the tenth time, just to be sure everything’s in place. Your dress hugs you in all the right places, the color matching the shade of your nervous but excited heart. Your makeup is flawless, you think. And you’re not going to be intimidated by the idea of being next to her. Vi.

Then you hear it—the soft crunch of gravel under tires. You step toward the door, just in time for the doorbell to ring, and you swing it open with a quick breath. And there she is.

Vi. Standing there like she owns the fucking world.

She’s dressed in a tailored suit, the fabric dark and sleek, hugging her athletic frame perfectly. Her hair is slicked back, the magenta strands impossibly smooth, leaving her face more defined, sharper than usual. Her piercing gray eyes meet yours as she takes you in, and for a moment, it feels like everything around you stops. The world might as well be holding its breath for this one moment. You know, for damn sure, she’s doing the same.

“You look… fuckin’ amazing,” she says, voice low, yet the smile playing on her lips says everything.

You blink, trying to collect your thoughts. “So do you,” you manage to say, voice tight with nerves you can’t seem to shake.

Her eyes scan you again, softer this time. “I meant it. Damn, you look so good I’m gonna have a hard time not showing you off tonight.”

Your stomach flutters at her words, but you quickly shove the sensation down. “Shut up. You’re the one who’s gonna make everyone jealous, aren’t you?” you tease, glancing at her with raised brows. You’re not wrong, though. Everyone will be staring at her tonight. That much is inevitable.

Vi steps closer, her body heat hitting you like a wave. “They can stare all they want,” she grins, her voice teasing, yet there’s something in her eyes that’s different—something that tugs at your heart. “But you’re the only one I’m interested in tonight.”

That makes your breath catch.

Before you can say anything else, she offers her arm, a smirk still tugging at the corner of her lips. “C’mon, we’ve got a night to ruin. Let’s go show ‘em how it’s done.”

The ride to prom is a blur of music, half-nervous laughter, and teasing jabs at each other. Vi is impossibly calm, while you feel like a nervous wreck. There’s something about her presence that steadies you, but still, it’s hard to shake the feeling of all eyes on the two of you. But when you arrive, it’s even worse.

The entrance is lined with other couples and singles, all eager to get their first glimpse at the night’s main event. You and Vi walk in, and the moment you cross the threshold, it’s as if the entire room turns to look at you. You can feel every eye on you—mostly on Vi, but you can feel the weight of their stares on you, too.

Vi’s hand is warm and firm against your back, guiding you through the crowd. She doesn’t seem phased by the attention. In fact, she’s loving it. And you can’t help but feel this ridiculous rush—this unexplainable burst of confidence just by standing next to her.

The two of you make your way to the dance floor. The music’s loud, the beat thumping under your feet, and Vi’s grip on you tightens as she pulls you toward her. “Let’s make this night ours,” she says, and her voice is rough with excitement.

You both get into the rhythm, bodies moving to the beat. You find yourself laughing at how easy it is, how the entire room could fall away and it wouldn’t matter. It’s just you and Vi. And for the first time in your life, it feels like you actually belong. You stop worrying about everything and just… feel. Her hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer, her breath warm against your cheek.

You don’t even notice the other couples around you until a loud cheer erupts from Vi’s friends. You glance around, and your heart almost skips a beat—Vi has pulled you in for a kiss in the middle of the dance floor, as casual as breathing. Her lips are soft, yet demanding, her hands firm but gentle as they hold you close.

The crowd’s not shy about making noise. Whistles. Clapping. A few of her teammates shout, “About time!” and the rest of them burst into applause, making you feel like the whole world is in on this moment.

But then it’s just you and her again.

Vi pulls back, her grin as cocky as ever, eyes glinting with mischief. “You’re incredible,” she murmurs, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. Her thumb gently caresses your cheek. You can feel the weight of her words, the sincerity behind them, and it hits you—this night is more than just a celebration. She’s here. For you. And there’s no doubt in your mind that she’s serious about it.

You smirk, giving her a playful shove. “You better stop, you’re gonna make me blush.”

Vi laughs, pulling you closer again, resting her chin on your shoulder. “Let ‘em look. They’re jealous. No one’s gonna have a night like this. It’s ours, babe.”

Later, after the music has died down, and most of the students are either too drunk or too tired to keep going, you and Vi slip away from the chaos. You find a quiet spot outside, away from the flashing lights and the sound of laughter.

The night sky is clear, the stars shining brightly above you. You sit down on the grass, your legs outstretched as you lean back to look at the constellations. Vi sits next to you, her hand brushing against yours.

[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

[hypernova-writes]

The Doctor's Match

Synopsis: The Administrator has decided to finally give Medic some much needed help on the battlefield, despite the male insisting he doesn't need it. But what happens when the Mad doctor finally meets his match?..

Pairing(s): Medic x 10th Class! Reader focused Pairing Name?: Medical Malpractice (Medic/The Nurse), Length: 3.4k words

A/n: GUYS GUYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY THISSSS, I was inspired by some of my fellow writers who are writing fanfics where they make the reader a specific class!! (Speaking of which I HIGHLY suggest the Respawn Malfunction Fic by the lovely the-teufort-nine)

"Ach, I don't really need help Miss Pauling, vhile I appreciate zhe thought—"

Medic was caught off by Miss Pauling's sheepish grin and hand raise. "I know I know, but think about it. You'll have help with surgeries, everyone wouldn't be screaming your name on the battlefield.. unless you like that—"

Medic tapped his glove to his chin. While he didn't necessarily need the help, it would be a great assistance to not have hear everyone screaming "MEDIC" on the battlefield. And to have someone who was on his level, that thought just like him when it came to medicine and other scientific discovering's?

It didn't sound that bad.

But then again, what if this person could be just as annoying as his teammates? What if they didn't help him out as he thought they would? He couldn't risk that!

However, on the flip side...what if they are perfect? They help him on the battles field, they help him with studies that he wanted to conduct. They might even let him experiment on THEM!

He hummed and sighed before dropping his hands to his side.

"Fine, Fine. I vill accept zhis..'help'."

"Good! Cause she'll be here tomorrow!"

Medic didn't have time to process what Miss Pauling had said because she left so quickly, rambling off about finishing finalization before their newest member gets there.

"She?.." Medic trailed off before he left his office to go and join the others in the dining area. Dinner was just being prepared when Scout called out to Medic.

"Ayyeee Doc! You heard about that newbie we getting? Hope he can keep up wit ya!" The rambunctious Boston yelled and Medic only rolled his eyes as he took a seat.

"I can only hope zhat SHE can deal vith the daily stupidity zhat I deal vith each day." Medic corrects Scout and that draws attention from some of the others.

"Oh? So our new help is going to be a Woman?..I pray for her." Spy muttered as he takes a drag from his cigarette. "Wonder what made zhe little lady chose here?"

"Don't kno', but it's best we treat her wit' respect fellas, she could be mighty useful round here when Medic is busy." Engineer chimed in. "Best to have two docs than one."

"Da, Engineer is right. Little lady can make big difference in life or death in battle. We treat her like we treat Doctor." Heavy adds on making Medic nod along.

"Zhere should be nothing to vorry about~, she'll be trained under zhe best!" "That makes me worry even more, I hope she's not a nutcase like you are-" "Vhat vas zhat Scout?" "Nothin'! Nothin' at all doc…"

Medic huffed as he fixed his labcoat. "Zhat's vhat I thought." He muttered before he walked back to his lab. When he walked in, he already saw a second door already installed in his medbay, kinda of similar to the one that led to his private quarters. But it had a different medical like logo. ‘Zhey work fast..” he thought as he decided to go into his room.

He needed to prepare for the new guest coming tomorrow

The mercs were all sitting together after another successful day of kicking BLU ass.

Scout, Soldier, Demoman and Pyro were sitting together, Spy and Sniper were playing cards, Engineer was moving around some things in the kitchen and Heavy was with Medic at a separate table.

Soft humming could be heard coming down the Hallway, along with a suitcase being dragged behind light footsteps. The click of heels against the hard floor of the base echoed, they didn’t really pay any attention to the sounds assuming it was Miss Pauling bringing something that they needed to go over.

That was until they heard the voice.

"Hello there fellas~!"

The guys all lifted their heads to see a woman, dressed in long nurses dress with a pretty white apron over it. She had a matching logo patch to Medic's with a syringe over the cross, she wore pink gloves that went up to her elbows, her hair was neatly tucked back into a low bun with the nurses hat on. She had a big smile on her face as she walked further into the room drawing all attention to her.

"My name is Y/n, and I will be your new nurse around these parts~! Now could someone please kindly tell me who is your head Medical specialist.?"

Scout rolled his eyes before he allowed a sly smirk to come across his face. "I wouldn't call him a professional toots…but he's ova there wit the large guy."

The woman, Who they now know is Y/n, thanks Scout with a pretty smile that had the young male blushing already but Spy knocked him in the back of the head.

“Oi! What the hell was that for??” “You’re making googoo eyes at zhe new hire.” “What? She’s cute! Ow! Seriously man! That hurts! “Zhen stop being such an idiot.”

Medic and Heavy were engrossed in a conversation when Y/n walks up next to them and starts to introduce herself.

“Hello! I was told that one of you was the doctor here, I’m going to guess it’s you sir..” She says pointing to medic. Medic looked her up and down and his heart felt like it was doing tricks already.

She was…beautiful.

She was everything that he had imagined in his head last night. Her beauty, her kindness, and Medic could already tell that a little something…unhinged lay right beneath the surface.

Heavy had to nudge the male because he was just staring at the beauty in front of him. Medic quickly cleared his throat before giving a grin to her.

“Ah yes! Zhat vould be me! I am guessing jou are zhe nurse, yes?” He finally managed to get out, making the woman infront of him giggle as she sits down across from him.

“Yes that’s me! I’ve heard such good this about you! I can’t wait to work alongside you in the field!”

Medic nodded as he leaned on his hand as he listened to her ramble on about how much she loved nursing and how her experience on the field was sure to lighten his load and help him the best way that she could.

As she continued to speak, Medic just nodded along and occasionally added to the conversation. He was so focused on her, he was imagining the two of them in battle together, covering in the enemy teams blood. He couldn’t wait to do the uber heart surgery on her so he could see and feel her from the inside out…

“Medic.”

Oh how beautiful she would look beside him.

“Medic?”

Oh how beautiful she would look underneath him—

“MEDIC”

Medic jumped as he shook his head, Heavy shook his head as he looked at his fellow merc. “You spaced out, Little nurse said she was going to bed.” Heavy states and Medic sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as he apologized to Y/n.

“Oh no no! You’re fine! I know you’re probably tired after this long day..” “Ja..The battle was very…tough.” Medic quickly says, making her giggle. “Oh well I'm not going to stop you, please go and get some rest for tomorrow!”

Y/n then backed away from the two males as she bowed and gave them a gentle wave. "Goodnight fellas! Can't wait to be beside you on the battlefield!" She happily exclaimed before she turned on her heel and left the room finally.

Once she left the room, Heavy looked over at Medic. “Medic is infatuated with little nurse.”

Medic looked at his friend and colleague, rapidly shaking his head. “Vhat? No! She’s just…really..amazing I guess. It’s rare to see someone as interested in the pursuit of science as I am!” He quickly says as he looked away from Heavy, pulling at his collar.

Heavy only chuckles as he pats Medic on his back. “You are terrible liar.”

Was all he said before he left Medic at the table alone to think. And of course, his mind went to the beautiful nurse that just graced their presence. He HAD to get to know her better.

He couldn’t just let her get away with messing with his head like this!

He will do it tomorrow! He would get to know her after working alongside her for the first time! After all, He had to know why a lovely lady like herself would come and work here and let alone be excited to work with someone like him…

Oh Boy, Did he quickly realize why he was so drawn to her.

She. Was. Crazy.

Once the Nurse set foot on the battlefield, that adorable and charming personality that she displayed to the others at dinner the other day was quickly replaced by a wicked bloodlust.

She was taking down the enemy teams left and right, assisting their teammates with a scary accuracy.

And she was smiling while doing it.

Her main weapon? A large syringe, one that he witnessed her stab and spear the enemy team, harvesting their blood and using it almost as some sort of wicked power source. He could've sworn that hearts formed in his eyes as he looked upon her on the battlefield. She didn’t care that she was getting blood on her at all, the way that it splattered across her clothes and she wore it with excited glee.

He was so busy day dreaming that He wasn’t paying attention, leaving him open for a backstab from the enemy Spy when he heard her call out to him.

“DOCTOR BEHIND YOU!” Medic didn’t have time to turn around before he saw the enemy spy...with a syringe needle through his back.

He stood back watching as his body turned to goop, and was collected by the Nurse, seeing it go into her own medivac.

“Are you alright? I followed the bastard after he tried to backstab, Engineer.” Y/n said to him as she offered her hand, helping Medic from the ground.

She holds his hand for a little bit as she checks over him, making sure that he wasn’t injured at all. She places her hand on his chest, making Medic jolt as she did it so suddenly. “Are you alright? Your heart is beating quite fast..”

Medic coughs into his hand before he backs away, nodding at her question. “Ja, I’m okay..Guess my heart rate is up after almost being backstabbed…”

Y/n gave him an eyebrow rise before she accepted his answer.

“Alright..if you say so. Then, Let’s go Doctor. I can hear our teammates screaming for us now.” Y/n turns to leave, expecting Medic to follow.

And follow he did, intrigued as he watched as she pressed a button on her MediVac, watching as she placed her syringe into a slot, and watched as the blood started to bubble and boil, turning into a molten weapon.

Y/n looked over her shoulder at him and gave him a wink before she ran off to go and cater to their injured teammates. Leaving him once again, speechless. He could feel a shiver trail down his spine as a smile broke out across his face.

“Mein..Gott..she's perfect…” He mumbled to himself.

He watched as Y/n reached over to Scout, shooting him with a syringe, the Bostonian yelled in pain before feeling a surging feeling. He suddenly cheered and gave Y/n a high five before running back into battle. Healing syringes, he remembered her talking about it briefly the night before.

She was so giddy and excited to have someone to ramble about her work, that Medic stayed nearly all night with her despite knowing that they had to be up the next morning. But that didn’t matter, seeing her happy, talking about a subject that most would squirm and ignore was all he needed.

God...was he falling in love with his colleague?! She had only been here for a few days, yet the bubbly and giddy nurse had managed to worm her way into his heart in less than a week.

Never has someone made him so weak in the knees whenever they would look his way.

Mein gott was he embarassing—

“ Medic! I need you!” “Coming Mein Nurse!~”

Y/n giggles as she shows off to Medic. Her main weapon, the syringe was used to collect samples, blood samples of the enemy and turn that into boiling liquid, almost like scalding water, giving the enemy team a burning and scalding effect that worked perfectly alongside Pyro.

She had a syringe Gun as well, filled with different syringes of various effects, some that could heal her teammates, some That could burn and melt the enemy skin, it all depended on who she aimed it at, as he saw earlier with her little display on Scout.

“Ahh..could you believe i almost lost my medical License because of this technology, I guess they didn't like me testing on murderers..” She mentioned sparking Medic's interest.

“Vait, jou made this yourself?” He asked and she nodded proudly. “Mhm! Did all the research Myself, I was a bio-chem major before I turned to nursing.” Y/n answered. “Took me a couple months to perfect, nearly burned a hole through my lab floor.

The two of them were walking together and just talking About previous experiments and things that they have done.

“Wait, you stole a skeleton?” “Several actually, it's how I lost my medical license.” Y/n giggled at that, before reaching for his hand. “You know, I could use mine, if..you ever needed..help,”

Medic froze a bit, her hand felt small in his as he grasped her hand, the two of them ended up facing each other.

“Jou..vould do zhat? For me?” “Of course~, Ya know , it's not everyday when you find someone who's so persistent in the pursuit of science like you.” “Oh really now?” “Yes really! It’s the least I could do for making you listen to my rambling about needles for two hours.”

Medic couldn't stop the smile that spread to his lips. “Jou know, I could listen to you read zhe most boring book in zhe vorld and I vould never get tired. “

It was Y/n’s turn to blush as she felt his hand come up to caress her blood soaked cheek. “Oh Medic..you’re just saying that..”

Medic chuckles and he was about to speak again when a loud yell broke through.

“Oi! Doc! Need some Help ova here! Could you stop makin’ googoo eyes wit the nurse!?”

Oh right, they were still in battle.

“Ve'll continue zhis later.” “We shall.”

The two of them readied their gear again as Y/n grasped his hand tightly turning to him with a smirk.

“Let’s go practice Medicine~” She says to him and Medic feels like his body was just lit on fire by pyro as a wolfish grin appears on his face.

When they would reach the enemy team, Y/n would signal to Medic that she was ready and he would nod to her before he would turn on his uber charge. He had only done the surgery on her yesterday, and while he was excited to see how it would work on a new host…

He hoped that it wouldn’t harm her.

Once he activated it Y/n jolted a bit before she started that boiling mass of liquid in her backpack. Medic watched as it was almost like she was spraying hot oil onto the enemy, They moved through the enemy, mowing them down like they were nothing but bugs underneath their feet.

...God did she look like a glowing red goddess...

The entire time Y/n was…laughing, giggling as she used her weapon on the enemy. Giddy as she saw how their bodies basically melted into nothing but BLU goo. It sent a shiver up his spine when she turned to him and gave him that award winning smile with a wink

He watched as the rest of their team came in to help capture the final point, most of them careful to step over or around the various piles of goo around the point.

The Uber charge wore off and Y/n squealed with glee before she ran up to Medic and grabbed his shoulders. “Oh my GOD that was AMAZING!!” She screamed with delight, once again catching Medic off guard.

“Ach..it vas nothing, it vas most—” Medic didn’t get to finish his sentence before he felt himself being dipped, and a pair of lips being pressed against his own.

Medic turned a bright red as his glasses fogged up. He felt light headed and when she finally let him up, they were declared the winners as they had successfully claimed the last point. When he regained himself, Y/n was standing infront of him with a big smile on her face as if she didn’t just KISS HIM.

“Did jou just–” “Yes i did. Would you like me to do it again?”

Medic looked back as he saw his teammates already heading back in, talks of celebrating and what they were going to eat in the air. Medic chuckles as he lifted the nurse into his arms.

“Ja, I vould…but if forgive me if i’m greedy and vant more~”

Now it was Y/n’s turn to blush as Medic carried her back inside to continue their own little form of celebration for winning.

“Man, I don't know if it's a blessin’ or a curse we got that nurse!”

Scout groaned as he knocked back a bonk! Atomic Punch, Engineer, who was playing cards with Demo and Soldier, tilts his head.

“What makes ya say that boy? I think it's great the Doc has himself A lovely lady that can keep up with him.” He chuckles as he turned back to the card game, watching as Scout took a seat with them.

“That's the problem! They are both nuts! I overheard them talking about doing surgery on each otha’ to put their hearts in each otha's body! That's weird!”

“Well, Son, that might just be their form of love-” “Then i pray dat form of love neva finds me!"

Engineer laughs as Demoman pats His back. “Aye lad, are ya still mad that the doc almost let you die because he was flirtin’?

“No! I'm just sayin’! They are weird!” “He's definitely still upset!” “I agree with Engineer!” “Course ya do Soldier! You prolly don't even know what we're talking about!”

Y/n and Medic were definitely closer after that battle, they were wrapped around each other's fingers. Always around each other.

When they had mission debriefing, she was sitting in his lap.

When it was time for their checkups? They were definitely giving PDA.

Speaking of which, the duo walked past them heading to the door.

Scout groaned in frustration before he looked up seeing Medic walking with Y/n. “And where are yall headin’ Out to? Ain't dinner about to start?”

Y/n smiles as she hugs Medic's arm. “Luddy has prepared a picnic for us~! We're going outside to enjoy each other's company, and talk about medical stuff~”

Medic nuzzled her forehead. “Ja, mein liebling and i vill be busy for the rest of the night, so please don't have any medical emergencies, jou might not like what you walk into.”

The duo laughs together as Medic leads her outside, opening the door and closing it behind them, leaving their coworkers To go back to what they were doing.

“Ugh..disgusting!” “Sounds like you're jealous sonny.” “How!? Jealous of what?” “Affirmative! Sounds like you are jealous that he has a proud American woman!” “Is she even bloody american?” “Course she is! That woman is a pure blooded American soldier!”

The four men ended up bickering about this, while Heavy who was coming from the kitchen quickly interjected.

“Lets just be happy Doctor has met match.” He started. “Means no more experimenting on us when he has a willing participant. She is perfect for him. Just a crazy as doctor.”

The others went quiet and Scout, the main one who was making a fuss crossed his arms. “I guess tons of fun ova’ here is right.”

Heavy rolled his eyes at Scout before taking a seat. “Deal me in. Besides. Tomorrow is ceasefire. Doctor is gonna be busy with little nurse.”

“What do ya mean by dat?” “I think you know what I mean.” “You could've jus’ Left us in the dark with that info Son.” “if I had to suffer listening to doctor ramble about it, you do too.” "NONSENSE THEY ARE JUST DISCUSSING BATTLE STRATEGIES" "Yea if strategies included fucki- OW WHERE IN THE HELL DID YOU COME FROM YA SPOOK!?" "I've been here zhe entire time, could you all please just deal zhe cards and not talk about what our doctors are doing."

GAHHH FINALLYYY ITS DONNNEEE

I plan on writing more with them, so be prepared for more Medical Malpractice— but until then, please be safe and take care of yourselves!

[revelboo]

could we perhaps get some more Ironhide scraps when you have the chance??? fantastic work as always!!! every new chapter has my looking at my phone or computer like this:

Sure! 🤣

Hold Me Down Pt 5

Ironhide x Reader

• “You understand you’re just stealing from yourself, right?” That deep, rumbling voice makes you flinch guiltily, caught in the act of stuffing your pockets full of candy, packets of jerky, and granola bars from the big box he’d carried in after the bot with the glowing panels on his head had set up a little berth and a tiny bathroom on the corner of Ironhide’s desk for you. And you suppose it could be worse. Your tiny habitat isn’t in a cage at least, but you still feel like a prisoner. “That’s yours. Your food.”

• “Then I can take it,” you counter, chin lifting as he vents at you. You really think he doesn’t know what you’re up to? Loading up on food. And he’d watched you walk the perimeter of his desk while Wheeljack worked, looking over the edges. Already plotting escape and honestly, he’d be more than happy to allow you to run back to wherever you call home. Let you be someone else’s problem, except for the fact that you know about them and might run your mouth. And he’s sure you would just for pure spite. So unfortunately, you’re his to deal with.

• “Look, darlin.’ I’m responsible for you like it or not.” Planting a big hand on the berth near you, he leans in and you’re proud you don’t flinch back. “And unfortunately for both of us, I can’t just let you escape.” There’s an overwhelming urge to bean him with a candy bar now that you realize he can’t actually hurt you. It’s against the rules. And you grin up at him, eyes narrowing.

• “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, chin lifting as you bare your little teeth at him. Feeling bold? Leaning closer to make your head tip back to not break contact with his optics, he prods you gently with a servo in the chest and still almost accidentally knocks you down. Not at all surprised when you slap his servo. “You can’t touch me.” But you don’t sound that confident anymore and it’s his turn to grin at you.

• “Darlin,’ you’re my ward. Mine,” he growls, poking you again and you grab onto his servo with both hands. And his grin falters some, optics drifting to your hands when you don’t let go to keep him from prodding you a third time and knocking you on your butt. “Whether you like it or not,” he adds. Like he expects you to just lay down and roll belly up. Admit defeat and play at being his pet. Ward. Whatever he wants to call it. Too bad for him you’ve dealt with much scarier people.

Previous

[rinsthighsweat]

They enter your room while you're changing

Rin, Sae, Shidou, Isagi and Nagi | masterlist

۶ৎ Rin Itoshi

Rin is the epitome of stoic focus, but even he isn’t immune to awkward situations.

His first reaction is pure instinct—he freezes, his gaze immediately snapping to a neutral spot on the wall to avoid looking at you.

Despite being used to seeing teammates change, your presence makes this different and oddly unsettling for him.

He mutters a quick, cold apology like, “My bad. Didn't know you were in here,” and walks out briskly without a second glance.

Internally, Rin is irritated—partly at himself for walking in and partly because he can't shake the minor embarrassment from seeing someone he respects in such a vulnerable state.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Sae Itoshi

Sae is calm and composed even in awkward moments, rarely flustered by anything.

When he enters and sees you changing, his first response is an indifferent glance and a neutral comment like, “Oh. Didn’t realize.”

His nonchalant attitude stems from years of experience in locker rooms, but there’s a flicker of politeness in how quickly he turns away and gives you privacy.

Sae doesn’t overthink it. Once he's out of the room, he moves on as if nothing happened—he’s got bigger things to focus on, like perfecting his play strategy.

However, if he notices you're embarrassed later, he might quietly mention, “Relax, I didn’t see anything,” just to ease any tension.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Ryusei Shidou

True to his chaotic personality, Shidou’s reaction is anything but subtle.

He smirks as soon as he realizes what’s happening, leaning casually against the doorframe instead of immediately leaving.

“Whoa, looks like I walked in on a show,” he teases, winking playfully without a care.

Despite his antics, Shidou respects personal boundaries when necessary. After a few seconds, he laughs it off and finally exits the room, though not without a final, cheeky remark like, “Next time, send an invite.”

He finds the whole situation amusing and will probably tease you about it for a while but knows when to drop it if you seem genuinely uncomfortable.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Yoichi Isagi

Isagi is quick to turn red with embarrassment the second he realizes what’s happening.

His polite instincts kick in, and he stammers an apology like, “Oh, crap! Sorry, sorry—didn’t mean to!” while immediately averting his eyes.

He practically trips over himself trying to back out of the room, fumbling to close the door behind him.

Even after leaving, he’s still flustered and mentally berating himself for the awkward encounter.

Later, he might approach you nervously to apologize again, assuring you that it was an honest mistake and that he didn’t actually see much. His sincerity is evident in how earnest he is about clearing up the situation.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Seishiro Nagi

Nagi is often too lazy to react dramatically to most situations, and this is no different.

He steps into the room, blinks slowly when he realizes you’re changing, and tilts his head with mild confusion. “Oh. You’re changing?”

His nonchalant demeanor might come across as insensitive, but it’s genuinely because he doesn’t see what the big deal is.

After a brief pause, he shrugs and calmly turns around, walking back out without a fuss.

Nagi won’t bring it up again unless someone else mentions it, in which case he’d probably just shrug and say, “Yeah, stuff happens.” The awkwardness doesn’t linger for him because he sees it as just another minor inconvenience in life.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Sweet, subby boy Aemond would love full body massages. I know it.

You're so right Anon, so right.

Happy, sweet, kinda fluffy and non-explicit NSFW sub!Aemond below the cut. Enjoy lads!

I'm convinced that Aemond actually just ADORES being pampered and treated very softly? But only from you of course. If anyone else tried to help him or pamper him he would see it as insulting and like the person is belittling him.

But when you do it he just feels so nice? Once he starts to relax around you and you start to guide him more when you're alone then he really starts to unwind with you.

(Sidenote: a big part about Aemond finding that comfort and safety with you is actually about ensuring protection and security for him from others? You stop servants from entering your chambers with him unless they are scheduled or are called, you get sheer fabric to hang over the windows so people can't see in from outside, maybe even move your quarters to the most remote part of the keep. For him, especially because of the brothel incident, his emotional security stems from physical security in the sense of not feeling vulnerable when he starts to let his guard down. Okay anyway back to the point of the ask...)

It takes you a while to realise that Aemond enjoys being pampered because of how closed off he tends to be? For the longest time Aemond would stiffen the moment you touched him and almost seemed touch averse. So for the first part of your relationship with him you focused on a lot on ensuring not to touch him unnecessarily and always asking for consent every time, even when it's very obvious he expects and wants that touch.

You respecting him like that, always letting him come to you, always offering yourself but never taking from him unless you've expressly asked and even then being as gentle as you can, that's what makes a world of difference to him. Because Aemond actually craves touch and warmth and the feeling of being able to hold onto someone at night and know they'll be there when he wakes.

Once you start to see him seeking those touches from you and he starts to allow certain things much more often, then you start to push it a little to see how much Aemond wants. To your surprise, you never met any pushback at all. You would offer him something, like brushing his hair or massaging his back or even just helping him get dressed or undressed, and sometimes you could swear that you could actually see the tension relax in his shoulders. He always seemed so much more content then, like once you got your hands on him he would just allow himself to become plaint in your arms, allowing you to do whatever you want.

That's how you learn how much he likes body massages. You first offer him a back massage after a long ride on Vhagar followed by a long meeting with Aegon when he arrived back to your chambers in a godawful mood. At first you think you may have fucked up by offering him a massage because of the way he goes stiff and quiet, stopping himself in his step and for a moment you think he may walk out the door.

He looks down then, unable to look you in the eye. He mumbles the 'yes please' so soft that you almost don't hear it and when he looks up his cheeks are flushed. He's clearly all embarrassed and uncomfortable actually saying yes but it's so clear that he really wants it.

Once you have his permission, the trick is to not make it seem like a big deal. Just lead him to bed, slowly remove his shirt and pants and let him lay on his stomach. If you talk or ask him anything or even compliment him then he'll get tense again and uncomfortable. You have to just be nonchalant about it to let him enjoy this without having to give you any input.

Over time as your relationship progresses the massages get longer and you get to massage more of his body. He still won't ever openly ask, but he will remove his own clothes and lay on his stomach in bed, nodding his head when you ask if he'd like a massage (even though you both know he does want one, you always just check anyway).

Interestingly though he doesn't actually fall asleep while you massage him, not even when he's so tired he's practically dead on his feet. The massages can definitely help him sleep better and fall asleep faster, but only once the massage has ended and you climb into bed with him. Often you're certain he's fallen asleep but then once you move away he's mumbling thank you and turning onto his bed with his one arm held out resting on the bed, a clear invitation to join him. He falls asleep almost instantly then, but only once you've come to bed.

Maybe what really changes things is when he gets to give you a massage? It's not the type of thing Aemond would think of randomly, not because he doesn't want to (he will take any and every excuse to serve or touch you, always) but because he doesn't think you'd agree if he offered.

But then one day you come to bed after him and he can say by the way you walk that your muscles are stiff. Maybe it was from training or dragon riding or even a fall but whatever it was made your muscles sore. Aemond wants to fix this of course, though he's not sure how he could help.

You can see how he's starting to get antsy about this and how he's not going to settle until he knows you're feeling better. So you ask him to run you a bath, which he does of course. After that Aemond is just standing around, clearly trying to figure out what to do next. You suggest the massage mostly as a joke really because you ended up laying on your stomach the same way he does when you massage him.

To your surprise, his eyes light up? And well, you certainly arent going to turn that down. He's so gentle with it too, like he's afraid he may break you if he's too rough. Honestly it's not as much a massage as it just getting your back rubbed but you arent complaining, it still feels good and relaxing.

It's after that incident that the massages become more commonplace and more sexual. Pretty soon one of your favourite ways to spend a night with Aemond is first to bathe together, then for you to massage Aemond until he's completely relaxed. You often ride him then, just flipping him over and letting him grip your hips and watch you. After that you'll lay together for a little bit and the moment Aemond has recovered he gives you a massage before you both go to bed.

[trustmypoison]

SVT when you pretend to forget their birthday

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘Hiii! Luv your SVT reactions! Can you do SVT reaction wherein Y/N prank them that they forgot their anniversary or birthday’

You better have a damn good explanation - Seungcheol, Woozi, Seungkwan

Immediately raises an eyebrow when he’s not greeted with a ‘happy birthday’ as soon as he gets up. If he does see you that morning, he just narrows his eyes at you as you go about your business, pecking his cheek on the way out of the door. Gradually works up some frustration until he’s seething by the end of the day because everyone’s wished him a happy birthday but you. His jaw will drop when he’s greeted by dinner, cake, and presents when he gets home. You’ll have to make up for this in some pretty serious ways, starting with kissing him until he stops pouting and crossing his arms. How dare you stress him out like this!!

Just thinks maybe you’ve been busy and tries not to be antsy - Jeonghan, Hoshi, Minghao, Chan

Knows you’ve had quite a bit going on lately, so when you jump up and get ready for work without mentioning it, he’s not crushed in the moment. But he is most certainly waiting for a text or phone call from you all day when you have a moment. He starts to feel a little let down, thinking that maybe you were so busy that you forgot. When he gets home to see your surprise, he’s eyes widen. After such an emotionally turbulent day, he won’t be able to maintain any sort of anger with you, simply saying, “I thought you forgot.” He’ll accept your apology in a lot of forms, so don’t worry. 

Totally devastated - Joshua, DK, Mingyu

Crushed the moment he doesn’t wake up to a birthday kiss. I’m not kidding. His day starts off so crappy that he asks to leave work early. He’s thinking you’ll still be at work because it’s far too early for you to be off, and he’s debating on just going to bed because the love of his life forgot his birthday. But you’re indeed home and in the middle of icing a cake when he comes into the kitchen. “Don’t look!” You’ll cry out, shielding the cake. He doesn’t care about the cake because he’s too busy clinging to you. You’ll have to soothe him with a lot of words, starting with, “I’m sorry, honey. I just wanted to surprise you.” Don’t do this to him again. I beg you. 

Somewhere between ‘not bothered if you forgot’ and ‘might have forgotten himself’ - Jun, Wonwoo, Vernon 

I just get a feeling that these guys don’t make a big deal of their birthdays. It’s nice to be celebrated, but they might even be a little uncomfortable about people going all out. So he doesn’t think anything of it when you don’t say anything in the morning. Hell, he might not have even remembered what today was until someone sends him a message. He really doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, so in the afternoon, he texts you to ask if you mind if he goes out with some of his group members for drinks later. You do mind, and he can tell, no matter how much you try to play it off in your response. He’s pleasantly surprised when he comes home instead of going out and thinks it’s sweet that you wanted to surprise him. 

[wukyma]

Oh you answered my question ♡ thank u, you fed us so much with all this lore !

First of all, the new poseidon illustration is now my new phone wallpaper, omg his pretty big face with the voluptuous hair .

Second of all, pretty please continue even without pictures ! I'm so interested in your Au! (Ur so right about the not-excuses of Odysseus, I would want Vengeance tho after this bad self-centered justification)

Love the poli/peri/emperor friendship, it's not the first time I see this headcanon and it's such a good idea actually (of course SweetBoyPoli is friend with everyone but the impeccable flavor of a friendship between opposites is still very cool/ complementary) !

But but if I can ask for pictures i would die to see 👀 the moment where they conclude the deal ?

(Also the HAND almost ON Polites FACE??? I have stated at that one for definitely too long. Oh god. Please, its kinda make me feral. )

💫Tatooed Polities ?💫 I must see him with the trident tattoo one day... OR even better : eurylochus/ody reaction to it! Because They know him for almost forever now, so the devastating realitie must be so hard on them (having a deal with a strong and violent god such as the earthshaker and all the implications, ohh good Angst!)

Okay, tell me I read that right too, Poli becoming ✨️friend ✨️ with Circe ?? Fuck your brain is big. Gotta think about the events on circe island with your Polities, that change everything for the better. Of course they can't fight so that rule out Ody and the Moly but maybe Hermes's still here anyway ? Like the little mischievous god he is...

So I have to ask, is Poseidon gonna spy on the fleet -especially Poli since he's beefing with him- ? I kinda have this picture of water spirits reporting to the god every steps ? Tell me if I'm in the wrong ~

(I'm SO ready for mockery tho 🧨 )

Honestly I'm really invested here so every choice is good ♡ would appreciate to read more anyway

(Not very good at detective sorry but hoping someone else will find it!)

FIRST OF ALL receive my massive thanks for writing such a detailed comment on my AU!! These guys are very dear to me, and it makes me extremely happy when someone matches my freak has the same vision <33

And you made it your wallpaper?? I'll bawl fr. Sadlyy i didn't really think through the moment where they concluded the deal, but have an interpretation! (Watch as i struggle drawing without any references except my own face)

The tattoo situation is interesting too because its purpose isn't only to seal the deal ;D hoping that I'll be able to show how that works in the next part— and yes, you're right about Circe; I don't care that it's basically a spoiler because they are just besties material 🫶✨️ can definitely promise a glimpse of Hermes!!

I didn't think of Poseidon using spies, but that's kinda adorable and I'll draw it anyway hehe,, something something water winions lore

(The bottom two are both from water but different species/habitats ig? Whatever, I didn't think too much about it)

[genericpuff]

Hello! I'm someone with autism (and I'm suspecting ADHD too) who's planning multiple projects. Do you have any advice when it comes to overthinking a lot about decisions on a project? Be it the first step, planning, questioning if you're moving too fast, etc?

ouuuu I think the biggest thing I struggle with personally is just like... the overbearing weight of expectation that isn't necessarily even there. Like, expectation to do everything right all the time, to never make mistakes, to never fall through on promises, to never break any 'rules' (real or imaginary) and most of all, for everything I do to matter in some big, recognizable, memorable way - but the steps to that goal aren't defined, I just know what the goal looks like, with no clear path as to how to get there, and so it often results in me aiming at my own "best guess" and then beating myself up for not hitting the target LOL which is completely unfair to myself and my own work!

What I try to regularly remind myself of is that I am one person, who is only capable of what one person should reasonably be able to accomplish on their own, no matter how much my auDHD tries to convince me otherwise that I "should" be able to handle more than what's reasonable. And in that same sense, there isn't any more pressure on me to put out something perfect than there would be on any other person. I am not Atlas carrying the fate of the greatest work known to mankind on my shoulders - I'm a chronically online dweeb making stuff that's interesting to themselves and sharing it in the hopes that even just one other person will like it too. That isn't a diss on myself, that's me embracing what I am so that I can keep doing it better and more confidently each time.

Though I don't know if this exactly applies to you, I'm gonna say it just in case: I know when it comes to balancing multiple projects, it can be hard not to go "oh well I SHOULD be working on xyz!" but at the end of the day, you're not a failure for preferring to work on something else or needing space from projects that used to thrill you and have now become monotonous. In fact, it turns out that's how it is for most neurotypical people too! I know they make a lot of shit look easy, but even they have shit they loathe doing - they just don't have to deal with the unique hurdles of being neurodivergent.

Always remember to set boundaries with yourself and your work. Remember, just because you're really excited to work on something, doesn't mean you have to work on it all the time. I've learned to appreciate those moments when I'm stuck doing my day job and I'm excited to get home and work on my passion project, because it means I can actually look forward to it and it'll feel all the more rewarding when I finally get to do it! Pushing yourself too hard to fulfill that excitement all at once right off the bat often just means you're gonna spend it all way too quick, and that won't feel good because then you'll be left wondering where all the love went.

Set little goals for yourself. Stuff that's manageable and achievable within a reasonable amount of time. I know we tend to dive into thinking huge right off the bat, because that's what's exciting to us, but when it comes time to actually do the work, those smaller goals can keep us moving forward far better than the big, far off, ambiguous goal hiding somewhere off in the horizon. While it's good to plan ahead, not setting smaller milestones for yourself can burn you out faster because it's really hard to work towards an "end goal" that might be too far away for us to even conceptualize. The small goals allow us to reward ourselves along the way, and they do ultimately still build up to the bigger picture in the end, even if it feels like we're "not doing much". It can be anything like "get to this chapter that I can finish in the next few weeks" or "fully write out this scene that's been living in my head rent-free".

As for the overthinking... yeah, I wish I had some magic solution to that, but it's really just about learning what you enjoy doing vs. what you don't, so that you can have confidence in knowing when your creative decisions suit the project you're working on. This is something that gets better with practice and experience, but I feel like it's better tackled by reminding yourself that any project, no matter the outcome of how popular it gets or whether or not it "takes off", is an opportunity to learn and grow. Treat every project as a learning experience and you'll hopefully find the process itself more enjoyable, which will subsequently buff up your confidence. It's all a process of honing in on what works for you, what you excel at, and what you enjoy doing; while learning what doesn't work for you, what you could improve at, and what you don't enjoy doing.

Finding a writing buddy or someone who's willing to read your work and give you feedback is super helpful for this, too, because sometimes it takes another perspective to help us navigate the fog of indecision and find a solution.

And again, remember - you are one person, and you are under no obligation for any of your projects to be some perfect, infallible holy grail. You will write stuff that you will inevitably look back on with disgust and cringe. You will create projects that you will eventually outgrow or move on from. That does not invalidate the time and effort you put into those projects - it's proof of experience and growth. Embrace the growing pains, find peace in the process in whatever way you can.

It's not a question of right or wrong - it's asking yourself what feels true to you and your voice, and finding out along the way.