#is it going to be his massive you know what again?

[beqitos]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ♥︎ ͜͡⠀ㅤ ㅤ̤ㅤ⠀𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍. 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍?

𖥔 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇━━━𝗐𝗂𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖺'𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒

엔하이픈 형선 ─────⠀ㅤ 699 (in total) ♡ ◞ 𝗴𝗻!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 >< 𝗵𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲!𝗲𝗻𝗵𝗮 , 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀, 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, & 𝗲𝘀𝘁. 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽⠀⟡​ ⠀ℒ𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄

재즈 : not proofread !! i have massive writers block ㅎㅎ

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 needless to say, he would be very shocked. you'd never have done that, nonetheless thought about it, so of course he'd look at you weird, glaring at you. "baby, give me a kiss." he'd pout, turning your head with his hand. once he did and you'd wiped it off, he'll most definitely tell you something about it. "did I do something? are you mad at me?” he'd say, being extra clingy, wrapping his whole body over you, peppering kisses all over your face, neck, just anywhere he could. when you wiped all of them off, that was his last straw, “yn. baby. what did I do to make you mad? are you mad?” he got up, pouted and thought back throughout the day. you tried to hold back your laughter, finally bursting out laughing once you saw his pouty face. “I'm sorry, it was just a prank.” you pulled him in a hug and gave the biggest smooch on his lips

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 he wouldn't notice it at first, unless you made it very obvious that you were wiping his kisses away. he'd had just come home, seeing you all comfy on the couch, slouching. “hey, baby, whatcha doing,” he said, flopping down next to you, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. “nothing, how about you?,” you wiped off his kiss. of course, since you did it immediately after he kissed you, he looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. you avoided eye contact, trying not to laugh, pressing your lips in a fine line. he pecked your cheek to make sure it wasn't some mistake. you wiped it off, and jay pouted now, knowing you were doing it on purpose. “can you stop wiping my kisses away.” you kept avoiding eye contact until he grabbed your chin and made you look at him. “is this one of your pranks again? or are you mad at me?” he pouted even more. you ended up bursting out laughing and apologized to him with kisses.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 oh, he'd notice so fast that it'd give him whiplash. you'll just be sitting on his bed, scrolling mindlessly on your phone, until jake came in, and walked over to you. “hey, baby,” he pressed a kiss on your lips as you turned your head to face him. “I'm going to go wash up, I'll be right back.” you nodded, and not even a second after he turned around, you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, and jake noticed immediately. “what did you just do?” you furrowed your eyebrows to play along and shaked your head. “hmm.. okay.” he muttered and pressed a kiss on your lips before turning right back around. not until you wiped it off again, and jake definitely noticed this time. “why did you wipe off my kiss? don't you love my kisses?” he pouted, his eyes like puppies wanting something. you tried to keep your composure still, but making eye contact with him made you laugh out loud. “im sorry, baby, it was a joke” “well I don't like your jokes.”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 at first, he wouldn't care, but if you kept doing it and doing it, he'll definitely say something. the first time you did was in the morning, when he was getting ready to leave and gave a soft kiss on your lips. you were half asleep so he didn't really mind it, but throughout the day, he noticed you kept doing it and decided to confront you about it once you both got home and you did it again, he glared at you. you were chilling on the seat of your vanity, retouching your makeup, and sunghoon getting ready to play on his pc. he gave you one last kiss since he was going to play for hours, and you wiped it off this time. sunghoon spoke up about it. “yn. why do you keep wiping off my kisses? I didn't do anything wrong that I'm aware of.” he muttered, waiting for your response. “no? why? and no, I'm not.” he pouted and went to give you a kiss again, and you shamelessly wiped it off. “YN STOP IT,” you laughed and apologized, giving him a million kisses.

© beqitos 2025. do not copy, steal, or translate my work.

[kazhanko-art]

(sorry in advance if this was already answered)

so in overall, there are people across Canada of every political sway which all have their own reasons against trudeau. Some of those reasons are legit, some are not, and then there’s the complicated ones where it’s not always 100% trudeau or his parties fault but they also didn’t help things.

but some things to know

Trudeau’s father, Pierre Trudeau, left a legacy for Trudeau to follow; both in the sense that Pierre had accomplished a lot as a leader and shaped a lot of what Canada is today politically, but he was and continues to be a divisive figure, particularly in Quebec and the Prairies (that legacy also affects the liberal party overall, at least out here in Alberta, but that whole convo can wait for another time)

So trudeau had some big shoes to fill, and many would say he failed and some would say he only got the leadership position because of his name (I don’t personally agree with this entirely but his name is not irrelevant and probably played a part in it)

Additionally, Trudeau was first elected not long before Trump, and with the US being our closest ally (though the republicans seem eager to undermine that rn) navigating the relationship with trump was going to be a major part of his job, as well as upholding Canada’s foreign diplomacy and relations in general

finally, there have been multiple major economic and political events that occurred around and during Trudeau’s time as prime minister. One of these was a global oil crash in around 2014-15, which hit my home province and other prairie provinces hard, and has had lasting consequences to this day

So for the first point: unlike his father, Trudeau isn’t seen as much of a builder. While he and his party did accomplish some things, they have often been seen as ineffective in many ways. Trudeau was partially elected on the promise of electoral reform, something that could have addressed many of the issues with regionalism and political representation in Canada, but he ultimately declared he wouldn’t, a move which many saw as a self preserving one for him and his party. He also made many promises to Indigenous people, however how that turned out has been mixed, with many Indigenous Canadians feeling let down a betrayed (I believe he intitially had some of the highest Indigenous votes, which is important as if I remember right, Indigenous canadians otherwise tend to have lower rates of voter turn out for a variety of reasons)

That last point gets into the oil crash. You see Trudeau and the liberal party were already by default viewed with skepticism in the prairies, due to a feeling of courting central Canadian concerns over other (and specifically western) concerns. Alberta in particular has a bit of a bone to pick, partially due to a narrative of persecution some albertans have about about equalization payments and the environmental policies like the carbon tax, and some more legitimate reasons. One of the things that happened was that Alberta was struggling to get it’s oil out to the market, and oil was the main thing that kept the Albertan economy alive. With the massive drop in oil prices (I think it went down to like $50 a barrel) Alberta was struggling, with major layoffs across multiple sectors, many businesses leaving or closing, and both the downtown of Calgary and Edmonton being very miserable, often described as full of empty buildings at the time. Prior to that Alberta was providing a lot economically to the other the country and often felt like it was paying for the east (again, complex issue but we don’t have time for Canada’s petty regionalism) Trudeau was seen as unconcerned and unhelpful in this situation, even forgetting to mention alberta when listing off every other province as great, which many took as intentional.

So Alberta pushed for multiple pipelines to get the oil out, however there was opposition from other provinces (I think BC and Quebec specifically) and the pipelines ran through Indigenous territory. That whole debacle was a pretty large political thing but the main thing is that the Indigenous territory was unceded land and that the hereditary chiefs opposed the pipeline, but the RCMP tried to force out the chiefs and protestors. Trudeau was sort of wishy washy the whole time this was going on, but in the end the federal government bought the pipeline, and basically managed to piss all sides of the issue off, as Alberta still lost money and was struggling economically, and the Indigenous people and environmentalists felt betrayed

another thing that happened was the SNC Lavelin scandal. SNC Lavelin is a quebec based engineering firm that provided a lot of jobs; however they also had been charged with corruption for helping (I think it was Gaddafi’s son) escape Libya. The charges would prevented then from taking on some contracts and effected employment. Trudeau basically tried to stop the charges in order to save jobs in central Canada. This involved him trying to give the executive branch over the judicial branch, which undermined the separation of powers in our democratic institution. It also eventually led to Jody Wilson Raybound, who was acting as attorney general and is an Indigenous woman, to resign and then later be expelled by trudeau. That whole period of time was a mess and it’s again, a long and complicated thing, but for people it pissed off:

Prairie Canadians and Albertans specifically once again felt shafted. While it felt like the federal government couldn’t care less about the economies or well being of these provinces, Trudeau actively tried to save a company from legal consequences to save the jobs in other provinces (this was after also helping other job markets in central canada)

Indigenous people were mad because JWR was fucked over along with some disillusionment with the truth and reconciliation the government had promised

there were feminists who side eyed trudeau as he is a self declared feminist and promised a lot in the way of supporting women and having women in his caucus, yet here he was forcing a woman out, making him come across as a closet misogynist who was using the presence of these women in his party for his own gain while not really recognizing their competencies as politicians and leaders

Trudeau also came across as very meek in the presence of Trump. While his team successfully navigated Trump’s first round of tariffs, that was more on Christina Freeland then him. He also had gaffs on his trip to India, who he failed to improve Canada’s relationship with, and arguably worsened by posing in a photo with a terrorist (Canada already had a complicated relationship with India btw)

Trudeau’s government also had a very high rate of immigration. Now that in of itself isn’t bad; Canada has always had immigration and anyone who has moved here can tell you, even under Trudeau it is a long and hard process to become a PR. However many Canadian housing markets were already pricing out residents (Vancouver and Toronto have been bad for a while) and do to a combination of fuck ups between federal, provincial, and municipal governments, along with many Canadians being resistant to high density housing and land being given to firms that would develop luxury instead of affordable housing (and so many other factors) meant that with the rate of immigration, there were a lot of people coming in faster than there were homes being made available. This was one of many contributing factors to Canada’s current housing crisis. Additionally Trudeau’s government repeatedly ran on deficits and added a lot to national debt, and often came across as tone deaf to Canadians struggling with the rising cost of living.

That then bled into the pandemic, which of course had massive political ramifications everywhere, and the freedom convoy which both bolstered growing polarization in Canada (as is an issue across the western world) and was again, an issue where Trudeau came across as an ineffective leader and managed to anger multiple sides.

Eventually we got to now where Trudeau’s own party asked him to step down. He is seen as someone who cannot properly navigate or stand up to trump, was accused by former party members of using gimmicks to win over Canadians while mismanaging the cost of living crisis and economy, and is seen by many as incompetent, self serving, and detached from many parts of Canadian society

There is also way more I could add, but basically, for many what it comes down to is

-he failed on many of his promises that people voted him in for, whether that be electoral reform, truth and reconciliation, or other progressive policie

-he came across as out of touch, dismissive, and even spiteful to some towards many parts of Canada, both regionally and demographically

-he came across as dishonest and two faced, often failing groups and causes he claimed to support

-simultaneously, people who already didn’t like him were given more reasons to dislike him, leading to him feeling like a fence sitter who repeatedly screwed up when he was needed

-he came across as spineless and incompetent as Canadians desired a leader who felt more secure

-he is seen as mismanaging the economy, diplomacy, immigration, and housing and being responsible for Canada’s current issues (although many of those topics are very complicated and are not purely his fault)

-fundamentally, Trudeau has struggled in many ways for the same reason other incumbent liberal leaders globally. While Canada is not as bad as in the US and some European nations in this regard, we have seen a rise globally in extremism and populism, as many have grown disillusioned with more established politicians and parties. But for Canadians, he fundamentally failed to navigate our regionalism, shifting politics, crisis of living, and growing political divide

There’s probably other things. For the record, while I personally don’t like Trudeau (my main reason stemming from SNC Lavelin) I don’t agree with all the reasons I’ve listed, but those are some of the reasons across the political spectrum I’ve seen. This is also more focused on Alberta and the west because that’s where I’m from and lived through, I’m sure other people from across the country could give many of their own insights

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Making Me Crazy

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, the tiniest amount of fluff, just pure, raw smut (fingering, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, overstimulation, thigh riding)

Title from Cola by Lana Del Ray.

Summary/Warnings: Request from @little-wicked10! Ben overhears you doubting his generosity in bed, and immediately sets out to prove you wrong.

Author's Note: Top ten horniest things I've ever written. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.5k

Supes should be required to announce their presence whenever they walk within earshot of other people. If they were, you wouldn’t have snapped at Butcher that, for the last time, you were not sleeping with Ben. You wouldn’t have scowled and hissed that maybe you made come fuck me raw eyes at him, and maybe you liked him as more than a semi-reformed—you’ll call it about 70%, which was a passing grade—supe teammate, but you weren’t going to fuck him, because he was probably selfish in bed, and your lack of self-worth did not extend to falling to your knees only to get nothing in return.

But Ben hadn’t shouted a warning that he could hear you, and now you were gaping at him—standing at the foot of your bed with a cocky smirk—and trying to find a way out of this. Figure out whatever lie you could tell him that would make him just shrug off what he’d heard and walk away.

You weren’t really confident you’d find one. 

“We’ve, ah, we’ve been over this, Ben. I’m not having sex with you-“

“Not now.” He waves you off with firm words that shouldn’t be settling that deep in your core. “But you will.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re awfully confident given I just said no-“

“But you’re going to say yes,” Ben drawls your name, lowering himself down to hold your gaze. “Because I am not a fucking pussy who can’t get a woman off. And I’m going to get you off, over and over until you’re fucking screaming for more, until you’re so fucking cockdrunk you only know my name.”

“Ben-“

He smirks. “Good, you’re already starting-“

“Shut up.” You snap, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I’m not fucking you just because you say you’ll get me off, or so you can proved some sort of point-“

“I don’t have fucking shit to prove.” He shrugs. “And I would get you off, baby. Christ, I’m doing you a damn favor-“

That makes you laugh. “It is not a favor to have sex with me. I could go downstairs, flash my tits at Butcher, and even his ass would jump on me-“

“Butcher couldn’t handle you.” Ben snaps, and you’re suddenly very away of how he’s towering over you, how he’s broad and muscular, how big his hands are, how soft his hair looks, how there’s a bulge in his pants that has to be padded to look bigger-

You swallow, forcing your eyes to his focused, darkened, almost dizzyingly lustful ones. “Ben-“

“I could handle you.” He smirks at you, leaning down until his nose bumps yours, and you can smell his cologne and the whiskey on his breath and something heavier that’s musky and heady and might just be him. “I could fucking ruin you, doll. Make you never want another cock again.”

“Oh.” He must have slipped you something earlier, or there must be a gas leak, because there’s no other explanation for why you nod, lean forward a little further, a little cautiously, and whisper an agreement against his lips. “Okay.”

Then Ben crashes into you, tangling broad fingers in your hair and kissing you with a bruising force that makes your head spin, and you know exactly why you agreed. For this. For Ben, and a chance to taste if he was really that good.

And goddamn him, he was. He was better than good. He was a demanding tongue down your throat and firm hands pulling and rubbing at this skin of your hips and waist. He was a massive, warm body lowering over yours and forcing you to crawl backwards on the mattress. 

He was a fucking sex god, and you feel like you’d just committed the worst sin of all. You’d doubted him. And—as his knee shoves between your thighs and you start to see spots when his kiss only deepens—you know you’re about to repent. 

And when Ben rips off your shirt and bra in one brutal movement, kisses a sloppy line over your jaw, down your neck, and right to your breasts—kneading with one hand as he pulls your nipple into his mouth—you decide that whatever he demands, you’ll offer. This is already mind-numbing pleasure, and if the only relief he’s offered you is grinding against him and his mouth swallowing every whining moan, you’ll take it.

Then he moves his leg away, chuckles at your needy sound from the loss, and you know he’s onto you. That he’s got you bent to his will. 

“Don’t lose your mind yet,” he mutters against your skin, nipping at your breast. “We’ve got a damn long way to go before you can afford that.”

“I’m not, fuck-“

You cut yourself off with a gasp as Ben tears off your pants, teases two fingers over the wet spot on your panties, and shoves them aside to expose your bare pussy to the air. 

“You’re fucking wet, doll.” He rises back to your face, kissing and sucking all over your face but your lips, where you’re gaping and gasping his name. “All of this for me?”

“It’s- Ben-“

Your voice turns to a squeak as he spanks your cunt once, running three fingers over your folds as the sting fades to pleasure.

“And don’t fucking think about lying.” He hisses in your ear. “I’ll know.”

You swallow, your voice soft and hoarse. “It’s for you.”

“You think I’m fucking hot?” Ben shoves one finger into your pussy, grunting as you squeeze around him. “Fuck, baby, you want me to make you feel good? Want me to prove to you how fucking wrong you were?”

“God, yes.” You squeeze your eyes shut, arching your back as Ben adds a second finger and begins to pump. “Ben, fuck me, please-“

“Tell me what you want, doll.” He picks up his pace, scissoring and crooking his fingers deep inside you until you’re writhing below him. “Say it, say you want my cock-“

Ben rubs right against that spongey place inside you, dangling over the edge of what you need—what you might die without—and you moan. “Fuck, I want your cock, Ben, I want it so bad-“

“Good girl.” He mutters against your skin, his teeth grazing right at a sensitive spot behind your ear. “But you’re still going to need to fucking earn it.”

You have a brief moment of lucidity where you realize what he’s said, and your eyes fly open. “What the fuck do you mean, I have to- Ben!”

He starts to fingerfuck you at a rapid, almost frantic speed that’s made of lewd sounds, desperate, breathy pleas escaping your lips, and a quickly growing bomb of fire in your gut that’s set to burst so soon-

“Cum of my fingers, doll, fucking soak my hand-“

You scream as the bomb goes off, and you’re overwhelmed with your orgasm. It floods your body and launches you into space, higher, higher, and when you fall easily back down to earth you realize Ben hasn’t stopped. His pace has increased to furious, and you’re already on the edge again. You’d be embarrassed by how quickly you came apart for him—how wrong you were—if Ben was slowing down.

But he’s not. He’s dragging you closer and closer to vaulting back into blinding release, and it’s right on the edge of pain and pleasure. It’s too much, and it’s not enough, and God, you just want him to fuck you-

“Ben,” you gasp, grabbing pointlessly at his wrist. “Fuck, I need you, need you so bad-“

He pulls your lower lip between his teeth, his fingers bending and pressing right against that spongy spot inside of you, and this orgasm is only more powerful. You can barely hear his low, growled promise right in your ear.

“Fucking earn it.”

When you regain your head, your pussy is clenching and fluttering against nothing and strong hands are gripping your waist, maneuvering you with no effort at all. And when your vision returns from a hazy blur, Ben’s below you. Holding you on his lap, your legs tight around his thigh.

You stare at him with wide eyes, and he chuckles, rolling your hips with a firm grip as he starts to bite and suck along your collarbone.

“Fuck yourself on my thigh, baby.” He growls, licking right up your throat like a fucking animal, drawing a high whimper from your lips. “Make yourself cum like the dirty little cockslut you are-“

You start to grind on him like he’s flipped a switch in your body. You’re overwhelmed with orgasms, and your cunt is sensitive and raw, but fuck that’s nothing compared to the sheer want for Ben in your body.

So you throw your all into it. Soaking his jeans with your needy cunt, grabbing at his shirt until he tears it off for you to scratch uselessly at his chest. Fuck, you even put on a show for him. Wiggling and rolling your body in his hold, watching him through lidded eyes, diving to kiss at his neck and drifting a hand down to touch that huge cock, straining in his pants-

“Fuck-“ Ben yanks your hand away, his voice stern and low, and you whine. “I’m not fucking done with you, doll, you need to fucking control yourself-“

You just moan, tugging at his hair in a silent please, and his face falls into one that might be—if you didn’t know better—awe.

“Christ,” he mutters your name, running a rough hand up your back to grip at your throat. “You need to my permission to cum, babydoll?”

Babydoll. That does things to you that you’re past trying to hide.

You’re past trying to hide most everything.

You nod, making a choked plea that’s meant to be Ben, but comes out high and feral, and Ben smirks, gripping your hips until you’re sure he’ll leave a mark.

But his words are low on your skin, and his dick is pressed right on your clit, and God, you hope he marks you. Maybe then you’ll feel like this forever.

“Cum,” Ben growls your name in your ear, and there it is. You scream as you reach another, higher state of euphoria, and you’re so close to just exploding when Ben hauls you up his chest and tosses you down onto your back, rising onto his knees and lowering his face between your thighs.

You don’t get warning when he shoves his face right into your cunt and starts to eat you out like he’s never eaten anything before. Like you’re the sweetest fruit or candy, or saltiest and most carefully crafted meal, or just straight fucking heroin into his bloodstream. He goes down on your with his whole fucking face, pulling your raw, swollen clit between his lips before flicking it with his tongue until you’re a whining frenzy, keeping your thighs split open with his hands and barely flinching as you start to buck and fly off the bed, the orgasms falling through you like rain. One hand even sneaks between your legs, and Ben focuses his sinful mouth on your over-attended clit as his fingers plunge back into your cunt, and you destroy yourself on his everything.

You must have squirted somewhere in there, because when Ben finally rises up his beard is shining with your arousal. 

But it might also just be that. This might just be so fucking good, Ben might be so good, that you could flood a desert with how much you need him inside you right now. Really, properly inside you-

Ben must read your mind, because he smirks at you, prowls over your loose and fucked-out body, and drags you into a long, slow, shockingly soft kiss that makes you sigh into his throat, his hand rubbing a comfortingly patten on your waist.

“You’re being such a good girl,” He says your name against your lips, and you think that alone sends another small, shuddering orgasm through your body. “Good girls deserve some cock.”

You make the most needy, lustful noise you’ve ever made in your life, gasp slightly as Ben rises over your body, and scream when his cock slams into your dripping, aching cunt without warning.

“God-“

“I’m not God, babydoll.” Ben’s words are spoken against your lips with a smug satisfaction, and you almost blackout as he rolls his hips. “I’m fucking better. Hold on.”

You obey blindly—spun out and faded on how he’s splitting you open, filling you up more than you’ve ever been filled—and wrap your arms around his neck as he starts to fuck you. 

This is heaven. God, you hate how right he was, but you might be ascending. You were already ruined from his hands and mouth, and this is being razed. Fucking decimated. This is Ben’s cock hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t know existed, and his hands grabbing and pulling at your tits, his balls slapping against your skin and his mouth leaving little marks wherever he can reach skin, his fucking fingers rolling your nipples and his thumb rubbing on your raw clit until your mouth falls open, and you cum without sound.

He doesn’t stop. You’re drooling, making high, gasping moans of his name, and completely wrecked under him, but Ben doesn’t slow down. He’s grunting and groaning in your ear, chasing his own release deep into your pussy, and you want him to have it.

He’s really fucking earned it. Especially as his thrusts start to stutter and the bed starts to shake in a way that makes you think it might break, and the low, primal noises that leave him as he comes inside you drag one last, smaller orgasm from deep in your core.

He’s going to brag. When Ben pulls out, you’re sure he’s about to mock and taunt you about being right, but he just sets you down carefully between the sheets, walks into the bathroom, and returns with a damp, warm cloth to clean up the mess he left between your thighs. 

Then he looks up at you, and now he’s going to grow cruel. To keep dirty talking or fucking you until you’re in a daze you don’t know how to return from, when you just want to rest. Or maybe he’ll just leave you to deal with the soreness of your pussy and throbbing on your skin from all his biting and sucking, and you’ll never speak of this again.

But he doesn’t do either of those things. Ben’s eyes meet yours, still guarded but not hardened, where you can see deeper into him, and he’s a little more human in there. Like you’d worshipped and repented, and now you get your true reward.

And this is it. Green eyes meet yours, he blinks at you with a frown—like he doesn’t understand what he’s looking at—and then crawls back over you. Ben settles at your side, and your body against his own warm, solid, one. He doesn’t speak, but he touches you carefully, like you might break, and it’s louder.

And you might have had a few other things about him wrong as well.

Because Ben doesn’t move through the night, and you wake up still in his arms.

End Note: Found a way to make it emotional too. Am I even me if I don't?

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[swappingbryn]

Hayden Goes Haywire

Hayden was one of my very first clients after getting my certifications. He had a lot of potential but needed discipline and to learn. It took a while, but he improved and developed into a true gymbro, and after a year stopped being a client and became my gym partner.

Everything was going great, or so I thought, until Hayden told me “I finally took the plunge, I quit my as a senior data analytics associate. I took the tests and just found out I passed, I’m a certified trainer too.” While that was a surprise, what hurt more was my long term clients started seeing him.

I confronted him and said “dude, I’m happy for you, but you’re taking all my clients. I thought we were friends, I helped you when you first started out and for three years we’ve been bros.” He looked unfazed and shrugged, “listed, you did help me out, but it’s your own fault this is happening. You don’t know anything about the business world, you can’t keep up, and you shouldn’t have taught me everything you knew. You told me things about training I’d never heard of and haven’t seen anywhere else.” By then I was seeing red, and once he turned around, I responded “if you weren’t so busy being a dick, you’d have realized I didn’t teach you everything I knew,” and I released all my pent up anger and aggression and lunged at him.

Hayden felt a huge weight on his back, and then it all went black. The next thing he knew, you was harm and wrapped up in a nice blanket, and then he heard a distant voice, “oh, I’m glad you’re finally awake, I was afraid I’d knocked you out too hard and lost you.” He tried to move but couldn’t, he couldn’t speak either. “Don’t bother, you can’t talk at all and you’ll have very little ability to move, except to get hard” said the voice again, it sounded familiar. He felt himself moving against his will. “You really shouldn’t have acted like such a dick dude, even though you started as a client, I did see you as a friend,” it was only then that Hayden recognized the voice, it was his voice, but not coming from him. He felt the blanket pull away and something huge roughly grab him, and then he felt sick. “We could have been business partners, but you wanted everything all for yourself. Well, now you’re nothing, just a massive dick, MY massive dick.” And Hayden felt a stream of urine come out of his mouth. He was literally a sentient dick attached to his former body.

@celebritybodyswaps

[bitchface24-7]

dude i love jayce so much it’s a problem like AHHH i wanna request sum fluff but i literally don’t care what it’s abt i js want him bro. like it can be domestic shit or like whatever LMAO i’m so bad at doing requests but i love how u write

T-T

I LIKE THE BEARD… - JAYCE X READER

synopsis: your lovely boyfriend Jayce has changed his look as he's gotten older. His hair has gotten longer, messier; and he’s grown a wonderful beard. He wants to get rid of it. You say otherwise.

warnings: Jayce is hot, fluff fluffy fluff, appreciating Jayce, Jayce getting flustered, some insecurities mentioned, pre-established relationship, man I don’t know this is fluffy self-indulgence that this anon and myself are craving, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. Y'all don't understand how happy I am that people are requesting things and just talking to me in either my asks or my comment sections in my fics. Keep it up, love ya <3

Dating Jayce is a dream come true. You two have been friends for as long as you can remember. You've had a crush on him since you were both twelve; you're breaching into your thirties now.

He's always been a massive sweetheart, willing to help anyone out, incredibly smart, funny, witty, if a bit naive with a massive tunnel vision when he's inspired.

You love him with all your heart.

This new look has you blushing like a tween again, rather than you being his partner of almost five years.

Jayce isn’t a massive fan of it.

You can see it in the way he runs his fingers through his hair, or scratches his heavily stubbled cheek. You know he's only putting up with it for you. And you greatly appreciate that.

Jayce has always been handsome, but this… this elevated him to a whole new level.

So when you wake up one day, the other side of the bed cold, you know exactly where he is. He's contemplating how he looks in the mirror.

Judging every supposed flaw and imperfection he sees.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You trudge your way over to the ensuite connected to your bedroom. Your hair is a mess, you quickly threw on one of Jayce's massive button downs, and you think your underwear is crooked.

With a light sniff, as you rub one of your eyes, you enter the bathroom and see Jayce; nitpicking his reflection in the mirror. His shaving kit is out. You feel a jolt of energy enter your body as your eyes widen.

“Sweetheart… what’s that?”

Jayce looks at you through the mirror and lightly shrugs, “My shaving kit. Gotta look presentable at the next council meeting.”

Your eyebrows furrow at that, “You were so proud of yourself when you first grew out your beard, then like a switch you didn't like it. What's going on in that big brain of yours?”

A sigh escapes the handsome man and his shoulders drop, “Some of the council members made comments about my new look. Something along the lines of me looking more like a ruffian than the Man of Progress.”

You want to throttle those council members.

You walk up behind Jayce, hugging his back and putting your chin on his shoulder, “Well I think you look even more handsome! You're not in your early twenties anymore Jayce. How you look and style yourself is going to change, it does for everyone! Do I still have the exact same look when I was in my early twenties?”

“No, you've changed a bit over the years.”

You run a hand through Jayce's longer hair and bring it down to his beard; the back of your hand caressing his face, “Your opinion matters most. Do you want to keep this new look, or do you want to shave it?”

Jayce looks into the mirror in a contemplative silence, before smiling at you and putting the shaving kit away.

“I like this look. Those council members can kiss my ass, they're just too lazy to make new posters and cups.”

You laugh at that, throwing your head back before kissing his shoulder. Jayce whirls you around and gives you a passionate kiss, he wraps his arms around you and lightly lifts you into the air. You wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I love you too.”

“You better, you're stuck with me for all eternity.”

You beam a grin at him, “I wouldn't have it any other way. Now, when's this meeting? Let's dress you up so nicely that those members choke on their own spit and hopefully die.”

“Babe! You can't say that!”

“Oh yes I can, they sure as shit can't hear me. We’re at home. What're they gonna do? Send in a swat team of enforcers and put me in Stillwater because I'm offended they made my wonderful, beautiful, sexy boyfriend upset! I don't think so!”

Jayce boisterously laughs as you drag him back to the bedroom, “The meeting is in about an hour and a half.”

You smirk, “Time to doll you up then.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It honestly doesn't take that long to doll up Jayce. He's always been handsome.

You pull out his killer outfit. It’s an all-black ensemble with red accents. He's always looked so scrumptious when he wears it, and he knows it.

He gets dressed, puts a small bit of pomade in his hair so it loses its frizz, and sprays on some delectable cologne. There's almost fourty minutes left until he needs to leave.

He should've gotten ready a bit later. He's so gorgeous, you're itching to get your hands on him and ruin the work you two just did.

And he knows it.

He just keeps smirking at you, his dimples popping out each time. He lightly licks his lips, he even subtly poses for you. That bitch.

You walk up to him as he appreciates himself in the mirror (as he should) and squeeze yourself in between him and the dresser, you wrap your arms around his neck and fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

“Would it be so bad if you were… a little late to the meeting?”

Jayce looks at the clock on the wall, “Nah, we got time.”

Before you know it, he's picked you up and tossed you onto the bed. He quickly follows suit as you unbutton his top as he kisses your cheek and goes down to your neck.

Fuck those councillors who talked shit about your boyfriend. He's the most handsome man in the world, and you'll make sure he knows it everyday.

JAYCE WITH MESSY HAIR, A BEARD, AND THE ALL BLACK OUTFIT WAS MY DOWNFALL IN S2. WHY DID HE ONLY HAVE IT FOR O N E SCENE ISTG WHY DID THEY DO THAT?!?? PAPA ME WANT MORE MOVIE 🫴🫴

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Hi Derin!

Recently I came across one of your long posts about clothes, and it was a long long branching thread but it basically amounted to " the only way to stop humanity from man-made extinction caused by the fashion industry is to start wearing outfits made of many high-quality layers where every single piece down to your bra is made out of high quality materials that are EXPENSIVE but designed to last for decades, and in order to do that we need to start wearing underwear that covers bigger percentage of our skin than just a bra and a g string ,the way our ancestors did" and while I agree with that, I am wondering about something- JUST HOW do we adapt this kind of underwear that our ancestors wore to modern fashion, bc there are some very big differennces between " modern fashion" and " the fashion of yore" namely

Modern fashion includes many, many different styles of "tops" and "bottoms" ,from long jackets to tank tops cropped just under your nipples and full length trousers to miniskirts, while the fashion of yore was basically " you wear a cultural equivalent of a nun's habit every single day of your life, from the day you were born until the day that you die, no ifs or buts" (yeah yeah a MASSIVE oversimplification but bear with me here)

Modern fashion "strives" to be gender neutral, while the fashion of yore was basically like " there are two sexes, and if you wear clothes designed for the 'wrong' sex we're legally allowed to murder you with extra cruelty" ( YES I KNOW EVEN BIGGER OVERSIMPLIFICATION)

so yeah that's something that I was wondering for the past couple of days and I was wondering if you have any good ideas about how to solve those problems

My opinion on the matter is that fabric was just fine twenty years ago. Those clothes can last a long time under normal use and washing without being painstakingly hand-spun and woven to be part of a wardrobe that costs as much as a small home.

But if you did want to go back to protective layering, it's not hard. I do it, mostly because I can't stand the cold, so if you live in a cold climate you don't even have to change your fashion; just put the softest, thinnest tracky daks and long-sleeved tshirt you own on under your other clothes. Boom, skin layer. If you live in a warm climate, then do that with smaller clothes, I guess, shorts and skivvies or whatever, whatever fits under the clothes you like to wear.

To answer your broader question, you've got it entirely backwards. Never once in the history of clothing have the materials and industry adapted to the fashion. The fashion is an expression of the materials and the industry. The creation of the industrial loom alters the fashion, not the other way round. The availability of elastic changes the fashion, not the other way around. The changing climate and changing needs of the wearer (hard-wearing clothes for labourers, etc.) changes the fashion, not the other way around. Fashion is an intersection of culture, environment and industry; it can be used as a tool for politics and market demand, same as any cultural artefact, but it needs to be practical within its environment. If wearing barrier layers became popular again, then the clothing that people wore would be clothing that they find comfortable and good looking over barrier layers.

From the context of this post I assume you're alluding to European feudal and pre-industrial clothing, although high quality fabric has existed for most of human history in societies that did and did not wear barrier layers, but I'm not sure what you mean by 'the cultural equivalent of a nun's habit'. A nun's habit had the cultural equivalent of a nun's habit. I'm not a historian but I can't think of any society of the type you're alluding to where everyday clothing would be equivalent to a nun's habit in any way beyond being, y'know, clothes. What do you mean by this? (Also, people back then also wore a great many styles of clothing; I'm not sure why you list that as a specifically modern thing.)

Modern fashion, on the whole, absolutely does not strive to be gender neutral, but if it did, this would not in any way restrict fabric quality or the use of barrier layers. Men's and women's clothing of yore were both looked after.

[loverboysturn]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ popular!chris tells some of the football team all about his little secret

wanted to post this before i start working on the blurb where they finally meet because it will just make everything all make more sense :) also how exciting that the next thing i post for this au will be them meeting!!!!!

my asks are always open for this au! you can find all writings for it here and everything else for it here!

chris was stood by his locker in the changing rooms.

the heavy bass of the music blaring through the speakers, as usual. the beat of the song playing was pounding throughout the room. the rest of the team scattered across the room, all getting ready for practice, talking and laughing, all discussing the upcoming weekend.

this weekend was the annual fancy dress fundraiser and it was a big deal, especially to the team. it was the one night of the year where everyone came together for one massive party as the whole school was usually in attendance, from the jocks to the quiet kids, all packed into one place, it was hosted by the football team to raise money for new equipment, gear and all the things they needed to get through the season. this year, especially, everyone was hyped, and the pressure to raise more money than they had last year was on. chris had been playing well recently, and he knew that just like last year, he expected to be the center of attention all night, but this year was different.

the party had been on his mind a lot but not in the same way as it was for the guys, this year it wasn’t just about getting black out drunk with his friends and raising the funds for football, it was the night he was finally going to meet you in person, the girl he’d been talking to for months, the girl who despite everything, made him feel like he was more than just the football captain, your conversations had turned into something he wasn’t sure how to explain, a connection that now felt so much more intense to him than anything else he had ever experienced, in his world full of constant pressure, you were his little bit of sanity and all he wanted now was to put a face to the words that he had become so attached to.

he’s snapped out of his thoughts of you when he hears matt across from him calling his name, “yo chris, you good?” he says, looking over at him, “you’re so zoned out.”

chris shakes his head, trying to shake off the thoughts that had started to creep up on him. “yeah fine, just fuckin’ tired man.” he mutters, grabbing his helmet off the bench and adjusting his pads.

“what you thinkin’ about? can see something is on your mind.” matt asks, not convinced.

“nah, i’m alright, just thinking about the weekend, still don’t know what i’m dressing up as.” chris mutters, his mind drifting back to the party and the secret he was keeping.

nate, who was stood next to them overhears and sits himself down next to chris, “bro what do you mean? i heard little miss cheerleader is telling everyone that you’re going together” he chuckles, “there’s no way she has left getting your outfits this late.”

“actually..” chris says, feeling ready to confess to his brother and best friend, “i’m not going with her.”

nate's mouth falls open in disbelief and his eyes widen as if they are about to fall out of his head with the shock of chris’s confession, "what the fuck are you talking about?" he laughs, "does she know that? she was bragging in biology this morning about how you’re going matching again”

chris leans back against the bench he was sat on, crossing his arms, shooting nate a look, “yeah, well, it’s all a little more complicated now and we aren’t together anymore, we haven’t been for months.”

“wait…” matt’s tone quickly changing to one of realization, and he raises an eyebrow. “you’ve met somebody else, haven’t you? you’ve been acting weird, being all fuckin’ mysterious and shit for months, all your late nights and always being on your phone is all making sense.” he says, before adding, “i knew it, i fuckin’ knew it. nick owes me fifty dollars”

chris glances between matt and nate, unsure of how much to reveal. he had never shared anything about you with anyone else, just because he wanted to keep you all to himself, “she’s someone i met online over the summer break,” chris says, keeping it vague, but he knows no matter how vague he keeps things, it wouldn’t stop them from asking questions, especially nate who was the biggest gossip chris knew.

nate looks more confused than anything now, leaning in, voice dropping to a whisper, “what do you mean online? you’ve never met her?” he asks.

“no nate, online as in i don’t actually know who she is” chris shrugs before quietly adding, “i met her on that fuckin’ anonymous student forum app during summer break, she doesn’t know who i am”

“oh my god, man” nate smacks his knees and stands up, “this is wild” he says, but before he can say anything else, chris quickly grabs the bottom of his shirt pulling him back to be sat back down.

“listen, keep your fuckin’ mouth shut about her, okay? i don’t want any of the team finding out until i have told ‘little miss cheerleader’ that i can’t go with her to the party” chris says, sternly. “i don’t want anything to fuck this up and i don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“i think it’s kinda hot actually, all the mystery of it all is sexy” nate laughs, “don’t you agree?” he looks over at matt who is quiet, just looking at chris with an almost concerned expression.

matt stands up, grabbing his helmet knowing the conversation was coming to an end, for now, as they needed to get on the field for practice, “as long as you know what you’re doing,” he says, his eyes locking with chris’s. “it’s cool that you’ve met someone new but just be careful with it. shit like this could get complicated real quick, especially if you’re finally meeting face to face.”

chris meets his brothers gaze, feeling the weight of his concern. “i’ve got a good feeling about this and i promise you i know what i’m doing, i wouldn’t be this far in with her if i didn’t.”

matt nods, giving chris a light pat on the back as they make their way towards the tunnel to the field.

“i knew you’d been less grumpy recently,” nate smirks, “it’s all that phone sex you’re having” and before chris can say anything back to that, nate is running down the tunnel and away from him.

[pleaktale]

Bleaky!! I'm just a girl asking for a request for our man Ekko where in episode 3 of s2 he brought you with heimerdinger and he's trying to protect you from the hexcore 'exploding' please and thank you!! 🥺👉👈 Muah 😘 take your time!!

-katy ❤️

it took a life of it's own but after I figured out the plot it went smoooooth 🤭 I'm sorry for the long wait though! I hope it's worth it Word count: 2k Warnings: death mention, swearing, time travel (?) Tags: Ekko x firelight!Reader, mention of Y/N, no description of Reader other than hair, CW alternate universes, CW death, gender neutral Reader, CW time travel (kinda), hurt/comfort Enjoy!

Maybe coming along wasn’t the best idea.

It’s what you think about when Jayce guides the group towards the hexgate core, a big room with glass floors and lights shining everywhere, a giant ball with runes and lights and intricate patterns standing in the middle of the room. It felt like you should be afraid of it, but you put on your brave mask.

Ekko insisted you should come along, saying you were his ‘right-hand’ and ‘his engineer partner’, Heimerdinger didn’t have much of a choice and brought you with them to the lab of Piltover.

At least it was a fun adventure to get there, with Heimer thinking you guys were in a secret spy mission of sorts, doing hand signs created on the spot and rolling over ducts. You and Ekko couldn’t help but chuckle at the scenes unfolding.

Once in the lab, and with Heimerdinger making the presentations, you remember to hold in a laugh at Ekko trying to appear taller when talking to Jayce, even though he was a good amount shorter than him. Nonetheless, he was still your short king. He just wouldn’t know.

Now in front of this… thing, both you and Ekko exchange glances, you could see the worry in his eyes that quickly were replaced with determination as he tugged you by the sleeve of your shirt to tag along. Closer, in preference.

“I thought this was underground,” Ekko noticed, looking around before landing eyes on Jayce. His tone started to grow stern.

“The mesh is, this is just a fell safe as we were not sure what would happen if the gates overloaded,” he explained, making you scoff at this brilliant idea.

“So it would explode on us?” You ask back, eyebrows furrowed together as, once again, Piltover proves to not care about Zaun’s safety. At all. “Pretty wise for a scholar genius.”

“These are far from the city, it wouldn’t explode on anyone,” Jayce is immediately on defensive mode, even though, deep down, he knows this wasn’t made thinking about the others. Ekko walked closer, also getting defensive at his tone at you.

“These are our utility ducts! The ones that carry our water and guide our ventilation,” this time, Ekko was the one to confront him, taking a few steps closer.

Ekko continued with his arguments, but a shift in light caught your attention, turning around to see Heimerdinger looking at something on the ground, you also took a step closer to see what he was doing.

“Heimer? What is that?” you asked, and as the professor touched it again, something clicked.

Everything turned white, there were no floors nor walls, just a completely blank space of nothing. Well, nothing except for a massive sphere of something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. But it had the same patterns as the leaves of the tree.

“A… wild rune?” you ask, walking a little closer in awe, just to be held back by Ekko, his gloved hand keeping you from going further close.

Meanwhile, Jayce was right in front of it, almost completely mesmerized by it. Everyone in the room was, in a way, even Heimerdinger who also got close, but Ekko didn’t keep him from walking.

“Ekko…” you called, taking him out of some kind of trance as he shook his head lightly, looking back at you, his eyes wide and with slight confusion. “It’s alright,” he reassured you, or tried to, staring back at Jayce who seemed to be approaching even more the sphere.

“Jayce!” Ekko shouted, trying to get him to stop going further into touching that warping thing of organic patterns and fluid geometries, but his voice sounded like it was below water. He heard himself like some twisted and warped sound.

You feel a tingle in your spine, taking a few steps back as the sphere started to lash parts of itself as Jayce got closer, your hand reached for Ekko, but it felt like you were a ghost, touching on nothing and lacking any physical parts on you.

Panic starts to settle, and you’re frozen in place, Ekko watches as Jayce grabs ahold of his hammer, aiming it for the sphere who twisted and warped and angrily reacted to the environment, tendril-like shapes lashing and gushing out of the sphere.

You heard a faint sound that was twisted and too dense for your ears to fully comprehend, but you made out as Ekko trying to stop him.

Then the hammer went full force on it.

Jayce’s skin warped and twisted, creating shapes and geometries around him, something weirdly two dimensional, like a thin piece of paper that follows your eyes. You look back, a line of copies of you, endlessly repeating, constantly copying your every action. Like time ripples out of place and creates thousands and thousands of versions of the same moment in splashes of color and shapes.

A mismatched sound fills your ears, something familiar yet strange, you look back ahead, Ekko is staring at you with desperation in his eyes. You see Heimerdinger exploding in a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes, something akin to oil amidst water, his eyes multiplying, following the lines.

You feel out of breath, screaming for Ekko but your voice comes out like some reversed echo, warped in the chaos that’s happening in that room. You can make out a repeated “run” screamed from Ekko, who is also trying to run away from it.

He jumps in your direction, copies of him flashing around your eyes, he’s close yet far, you can’t make out the distance in this weird time space you’re locked in. You try to reach for him too, your hand doubling into a thousand others, pops of color lashing out of your skin.

Ekko makes it to you, his arms enveloping your form tightly, the first time you’ve felt weight like you’re supposed to, something unearthly heavier than it should. You both fall into some form of flooring, but it still was just a blank space, you try to make the fall easier but your head finds one of the screws in what would be the real world.

And things go from blank to black.

-

Time wraps itself around, twisting and tugging and moving in an all time high, like being tossed into some sort of infinite blender that you’ll never reach the blades. Ekko feels it on his body for a mere second, but it feels like forever.

But then it stills.

“And I…” he stops, hands holding yours, or was it you? You had a different hair, your smile seemed brighter, but still he felt unfamiliarity. He continues without even knowing he was talking.

“I think I love you,” Ekko smiles, eyes squinting from how big it is, his heart feels full, but something on the back of his mind itches. You’re almost tearing up, or was you? With a short nod, you whisper a soft ‘me too’ that almost doesn't reach his ears, your arms circling around him.

He feels full. And then it stills.

“… that day was fun, y’know?” Ekko says, eyes staring down at some flowers in a vase, above a grave. Your grave, your name beautifully displayed with carvings of fireflies and your favorite flower around it. Something’s amiss, but he can’t quite scratch that itch in the back of his mind.

“I miss you,” he whispers, feeling his eyes tear up. It felt weird, he thought he was past it on his grief. Guess not. Feeling his lungs with fresh air, Ekko leaves a shaky breath, smiling to himself despite the pain in his heart.

He feels empty. And then it stills.

“Y/N, do you accept Ekko as your spouse?” Scar says, keeping a small smile after looking towards you. Ekko swears he’d never seen you so beautiful before. Or were you? Is it you?

“I do,” you answer, smiling almost ear to ear, hands clasped together. You feel his hands get a little clammy after your reply.

“Ekko, do you accept Y/N as your spouse?” Scar continues, now looking back at Ekko, who smiles with eyes shiny from the unshed tears. You squint your eyes, waiting for his reply, your heart almost beating out of your chest despite knowing the answer.

“I do,” he replies, “absolutely do,” and then adds. He feels full seeing your smile, the way you’re also almost tearing up, despite the itch on the back of his mind. Ekko just takes you in.

He feels complete. And then it stills.

Over and over and over and over.

“Y/N! Come out! We’ll miss the opening!” Ekko calls, he feels younger, he is younger, he’s still a kid. You’re a kid too. You’re running to him, hair bouncing as you halt almost atop of him. Your hands on his arm, shaking him.

“C’mon! We can’t miss it!” You sound so happy, so full of life. Or were you?

“Stop shaking me and let’s go!” Ekko holds your wrist, running the two of you towards the bridge to watch the opening of the shops. Benzo tried to call you two to wait, but he was a bit late. Benzo. Another itch he can’t scratch.

Time stills once again.

“Hey, don’t run on the stairs!”

Your voice echoes through the tree house, watching closely on your kid. His kid too. Our kid. Ekko smiles to himself, taking his cup of coffee from the pot. “It’s the nerves, firefly, first day of school,” he says to you, sipping on his mug.

“I know! But safety-”

“-always comes first.” He continues your phrase, making you smile in amusement and annoyance. He feels his chest warm up with a chuckle.

“C’mon, loosen up a little, will you?” His arm circles your waist, pulling you closer while his mug with hot coffee is kept far from your body.

The way you roll your eyes and lean on him makes it all worth it. But that damn itch. This weird feeling.

Time doesn’t stop this time, though.

BOOM!

A groan of pain escapes his lips, his arms tightly holding onto you. His body hit something physical for once, the weird feeling was gone, the memories still there.

Despite himself, Ekko just lays there for a moment, half scared of what he’d encounter by opening his eyes. When the courage comes, he slowly shifts, feeling you first, leaning onto his elbows to get himself up. His eyes are greeted by your knocked out form, but you’re still breathing peacefully. Almost like you’re asleep.

“Hey,” he calls quietly, gently shaking you, your eyes fluttering up brings relief to his heart.

You’re still drowsy, a stinging pain on the back of your head. Sitting up, Ekko is still checking up on you, his hand gently touching your elbow. “What happened?” you ask, feeling like you’ve slept for way too long.

“I.. I’m not sure,” he replies, looking around and seeing Heimendinger on the floor and no trace of Jayce. The hexcore was dimmed, with no power coming from it. He turns back at you, seeing you scratch the back of your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice gentle and low. Unlikely so.

“Yeah, I think I just hit my head when that thing.. exploded, I guess.” Sighing, you stop for a moment, sitting up on the floor with him. “Are you?”

Your question pulls him from the memories he’s still drowning himself into. He couldn’t quite tell what that was; alternate universes? Another kind of dream? Whole different dimensions? Daydream? Had he hit his head too? But it felt too real, your touch was too real, the smells were too real, the warmth of the sun on his skin were too real. But that itch on the back of his mind was also too real.

One thing he knew was that you were the constant on his equation. Despite the changes, you were his equivalent.

Taking your hand in his, fingers intertwining. A sigh leaves his lips, eyes briefly closing before looking back up to your own. A smile of relief on his face.

“I am.”

Ekko feels full. And time is back to the right place, with you.

THANK YOU FOR READINGGG <33 ngl I kinda went crazy with this one, writing the wraps of time was fun!!! ALSO THANK YOUUU @the-kr8tor for all the yap sessions about this <3

© pleaktale

[gretagerwigsmuse]

ahhh thank you so much abby! i always love seeing which parts people pick out as their favorites 🤭 they're both so excited to just get away, just the two of them for an entire 10 days - even with all the stuff going on in her head? i think it says a lot about them as a couple that he's waiting for her to tell him what's wrong before he says something? but in the meantime he's going to make her feel so loved and cared for and be his regular sweet self 🤭 i loved adding the scene with mav and penny and amelia, it really rounded the chapter out in terms of bradley's homecoming and i just love this little family unit they have now (also including her dad and mary ofc!). and i'm glad, but also sad how realistic they are in some sense 🥺 but i think the body insecurities are something so many people go through no matter their size, so it's an appropriate challenge to work through together! thanks again and full responses below 💕

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. IM ALREADY CRYING 😭 going through a major crisis of confidence here. like the navy isn't his center anymore, she is? but he knows it's only like that to the two of them?

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. SIRRRRRR THE SWITCH??? from needing to cuddle her to THIS? Deceased. pls he's so desperate for her like he's actually the pathetic one even tho he calls her that haha

“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.” I love them so much they're too cute your honor 😭😭😭 hehe i love making them so mushy and lovey dovey like they totally deserve it

That tattoo gets me Every time my heart breaks every time it's just...it's really sad because he felt so strongly about this that he got a permanent reminder on his arm? like it's something he can see all the time? and the way she knows when to focus on it and give it attention and love exactly when he needs it absolutely gets me too? and the fact that he told her about it so soon in their relationship? sighhhh

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.” 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 hehe 🤭 older boyfriend bradley reporting for duty sir 🫡

Him making her an audiobook I'm dead. Not just because that's hot as hell, but also the fact he wants to do research into the dynamic and make it right/good for her????? Like???! Bradley Bradshaw, the man that you are!!! like it's something that's new for both of them? in the sense that it's a named thing, a named dynamic? sure, bradley's naturally dominant and in control when he's had sex, but her? she's never been like this with anyone else and bradley doesn't take that lightly, like he knows this is a big deal and it's a massive responsibility, but he likes that? and he likes that he can be that presence for her?

God, he would love missionary for how close it lets him be. A romantic at heart! I love him. Also love how he's obsessed with her tits like yes girl, get it! eye contact is huuuuuuge like he needs to see how she's coming apart under him, what effect he's having on her, he wants to see every one of her reactions and little tells

This fic is making me feel much better about gaining some weight, thank you for your service and thank you for saying this, truly. i think it's something everyone goes through no matter what size they are and no matter how loved they are? one little comment can really set you off on a spiral and i'm just trying to make what she's going through as realistic as possible, even if it hurts

She's dimming the light?! Baby girl he loves you, he loves your body!!! 😭😭 I feel for her, I feel her so hard. Also I really love that you gave her a struggle that so many of us have gone through. Like your insecurities don't just magically vanish when you're in a loving relationship, it takes time and work and I know Smart Aleck will get there! yes! the lights thing is super common too? and if you look back at the chapter, the only time she gets fully naked in front of him is when they're in the shower and the lights are low? and he realizes she's going to get there and that she has to get there herself?

Stop shaking the thought away Bradley! God, he's so close, so freaking close to figuring it out!!! And in a way I like that it takes him time because that's realistic but I still want to shake them both. he is soo close and i think part of him doesn't want to complete the thought because he just doesn't believe it? he doesn't believe that this girl he loves so much and is so smart and kind and funny and beautiful thinks she's not enough?

Her not knowing what to wear 😭😭 God this is hitting me so hard. And Bradley is just trying to be supportive!! Honestly surprised I haven't cried yet because I feel her so much and then fast forward to the next chapter when he actually verbalizes his thoughts about her beautiful clothes and how she needs to wear them and that now he's more authoritative in telling her what to wear?

You've also convinced me that yes, Maverick is Bradley's dad. I love that smart Aleck has a relationship with him as well! it's just sweet, you know? like bradley has this family and support system that invites him over for dinner and coddles him and make sure he eats and is actually doing well? and then in turn bradley's like STOP UNINTENTIONALLY FLIRTING WITH MY GIRLFRIEND

Bradley's right, if I met a 30 year old man who went by Teddy, it would be an immediate red flag. Also the way he's so protective of her and Amelia?! My heart can't take much more Jordan 😭😭 right?? like i wanted to keep it that he's still teddy? not edward, but teddy? like fucking teddy is such an asshole and bradley actually meets him over thanksgiving! but also yes his last name is after a certain supreme court justice...

THE PHONE SEX?!?!?! JORDAN ELIZABETH (idk your middle name, I'm just inserting one bc holy shit that was hot and entirely too short God, do they need a third??? Asking for a friend). hehe 🤭 i had so much fun with that and it was definitely not something i was thinking of including at first!!

“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. THE WAY HE IS SO DESPERATE AND NEEDY FOR HER JORDAN I AM FERAL. FERAL! hehe 🤭 he needs her so badly. like he is the opposite of cool throughout this entire scene. like she's barely through the door in her slightly too small work dress and he's like i need to fuck you right now or i'll die lol

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. OH MY GOD ITS THIS SCENE THE ONE YOU TALKED ABOUT THE TIGHTS!!!! HAHAHA he's like i need to fuck this out of you and me and sink inside you and claim you right the fuck now. and you know what? she loved it

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. Jake, that sounds like a personal problem my dude. - like sorry your girlfriend isn't rich, buddy! like that's not bradley's fault! have fun at some janky all inclusive resort, bradley will be at the four season/white lotus in the pineapple suite

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

[duachai]

HANA, DUL, SET : 102 - PARK SUNGHOON

When you say you're the one for me Is it to erase when you said it to him?

♱ PAIRING : PARK SUNGHOON X MALE READER

♱ SYNOPSIS : It's the week after the party and M/n starts his volleyball career with the Enhas... but it's not going too well.

♱ CONTENT WARNING : This writing contains explicit sexual content and mature themes.

♱ AUTHOR'S NOTE : --

LINKS : Wattpad | Kofi | Book Link | Masterlist

M/n stood at the entrance of the gym, clutching the strap of his bag tightly. He had arrived early. 5 p.m. on the dot: hoping to make a good impression and get a chance to speak with his new coach, Coach Park. The unfamiliarity of it all made him feel strange. This would be the first time he’d play under the authority of someone other than his father. It was a breath of fresh air, a chance to step out from under his father’s shadow. But at what cost? 

His chest tightened as the thought lingered. He hadn’t seen his father in days. Their conversations had dwindled to silence, the kind that felt heavier than any argument. They were ignoring each other, a mutual retreat into their separate worlds. For now, M/n tried to focus on the here and now, pushing the uneasy thoughts to the back of his mind as he took a deep breath and stepped inside. 

The hallways were, of course, empty, their silence broken only by the faint squeak of sneakers echoing from the left. That was just the badminton club practicing their rallies in the smaller gym. M/n continued down the corridors, his steps unsteady as he realized he was, without a doubt, lost. 

He pulled out his phone again, glancing at the message Sunoo had sent earlier. The directions were infuriatingly vague and barely enough to get him through the front doors, let alone find Coach Park’s office. M/n sighed, his confidence waning with every wrong turn. 

Just as he started to lose hope, he passed by a massive trophy case, its glass gleaming under the fluorescent lights. It wasn’t as grand as the Fifty-Forty display back at his old school, but it still commanded attention. Medals and trophies of various sizes were meticulously arranged inside, each telling a story of victory or near victory. 

His eyes settled on a framed photo of the 2022 Enha volleyball team. They were lined up in their crisp white suits, their postures rigid and imposing. But it wasn’t the formality of their attire that caught his attention, it was their expressions. Their eyes burned with something raw, almost feral. Anger. 

M/n didn’t need to read the plaque to know why. He remembered hearing about it. How Enha had come in second to Fifty-Forty that year. The bitterness in their gazes told him everything he needed to know. For a moment, he found himself wondering how it must have felt to come so close, only to fall short. 

Shaking off the thought, he stepped away from the display, a new weight settling in his chest. 

Just as he turned on his heel back to his original path, he pasted by a supply closet. Only, the door was cracked and there was noises you wouldn't think would be coming from in there. 

“Hold on, you’re gonna knock something over, babe.” A voice said, a giggle coming out. M/n leaned in closer and peered through the door, it was Heesung and Jake. Heesung had his back to a shelf, school uniform half draped on his body as Jake eagerly separated the garments from his body. They were... having sex in the supply closet? 

Heesung’s back was arched as Jake worked him over, the closet filled with the sound of rustling fabric, wet slurping noise, and their heavy breathing. Jake’s hands were moving Heesung’s thighs around his hips. 

Heesung reached back to grab the shelf for support, his fingers digging into the cardboard boxes as Jake peppered his neck with aggressive kisses that were sure to mark later. 

M/n gasped, hand clasped over his mouth. “What the fuck...” He whispered into his mouth as he walked a few steps away, completely thrown off. His heart pounded in his chest, the surreal scene playing over and over in his mind like a broken record. He quickly turned, trying to hide the shock on his face, but his feet felt glued to the floor. 

His breath hitched as he nervously glanced back, barely able to comprehend what he had just witnessed. He had never imagined the two of them like this, especially not in such a confined space, with their hands tangled and their lips locked in a heated kiss. The reality of it was enough to make him question everything he thought he knew about them. 

He forced himself to take a few more steps back, his back hitting the hallway wall, and closed his eyes, trying to steady his breath. How am I supposed to make friends with them after seeing that? His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, none of them making any sense. He had to leave before they noticed him standing there like a dumbfounded idiot, but his legs felt like jelly, unwilling to move. 

A muffled sound from the closet broke through his daze, and M/n’s heart skipped. He bit his lip, staring at the door, knowing he had to make a choice walk away. 

“What are you doing here?” 

M/n turned sharply, his pulse spiking as he locked eyes with Sunghoon. The senior stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but sharp enough to cut. 

“I-I was just...” 

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked to the supply closet, the muffled noises still audible. His jaw tightened. 

Without a word, he strode past M/n and pushed the door open with enough force to send it slamming into the wall. 

The reaction inside was immediate. Heeseung and Jake froze, wide-eyed and caught mid-motion. Heeseung scrambled to pull his shirt back on while Jake stumbled back, his face flushed with equal parts embarrassment and frustration. 

“What the hell is this?” Sunghoon’s voice was low but seething, each word laced with venom. “We have practice in ten minutes, and this is how you’re preparing? In a supply closet?” 

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Sunghoon cut him off with a sharp glare. “Save it. I’m so sick of your bullshit.” He turned to Heeseung, who was busy smoothing out his uniform. “And you, grow the fuck up.” 

The air in the hallway was stifling, thick with unspoken tension. M/n stood frozen, unsure whether to slip away or stay rooted in place. 

Sunghoon finally turned to him, his expression hard. “Go to Coach Park’s office. Now.” 

M/n nodded mutely, his legs moving before his brain could catch up. As he hurried down the hallway, he glanced back one last time. Jake and Heesung stood there, shoulders tense, while Sunghoon loomed over them, radiating a quiet fury that promised this wasn’t over. 

After such an awful encounter, M/n finally found the office. The small plaque on the door gleamed under the fluorescent lights, confirming he was in the right place. He took a deep breath before knocking. Within seconds, the door swung open to reveal Coach Park, whose broad, welcoming smile instantly eased some of M/n's nerves. 

"Come on in!" the coach said, stepping aside to let him through. The office smelled faintly of coffee and fresh paper, and the walls were lined with awards, photos, and framed motivational quotes. M/n hesitated briefly before stepping inside, unsure of what to expect but determined to make a good impression. 

“So, you came from the Fifty-Forty team, right?” Coach Park asked, leaning back in his chair. 

“Mm-hmm,” M/n nodded, his expression unreadable. 

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?” 

M/n hesitated, glancing at the motivational poster on the wall before answering. “Bad... I guess.” 

Coach Park exhaled slowly, his expression turning more serious. “Alright, the bad news is you’re flagged in the system. That means you won’t be eligible to play in the league for 160 days.” 

“What?” M/n’s eyes widened, the weight of the words sinking in like a punch to the gut. “Are you serious?” 

“Hold on, bear with me,” Coach Park said quickly, holding up a hand to calm him down. “You can appeal the probation, though. At the end of the term, you’ll have a chance to present your case to the volleyball league coordinators. If they agree, you’ll be reinstated sooner.” 

M/n slumped back in his chair, processing the news. “So... I’m basically benched for half a year unless they decide otherwise?” 

“Pretty much,” Coach Park said with a sympathetic smile. “But don’t worry. We’ve dealt with this before, and I’ll help you prepare for the appeal. It’s not the end of the road.” 

“So, what do I have to do?” M/n asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and caution. 

Coach Park leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Simple. Get along with my son and his teammates.” 

M/n blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Your son?” 

“Oh, you didn’t know?” The coach’s grin widened slightly. “I’m Sunghoon’s father.” 

M/n’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh... I didn’t realize that.” 

Coach Park chuckled, clearly amused by M/n’s surprise. “Yeah, he says it’s too embarrassing to be coached by his pops. Anyway, it’s not just about Sunghoon. You’ve gotta be a team player, on and off the court. Practice with them, hang out outside of practice, help them out whenever you can.” 

M/n nodded slowly, processing the coach’s words. “So... basically, just don’t screw it up?” 

Coach Park laughed, his tone light but firm. “Exactly. And trust me, if you can win over Sunghoon, the rest will be a breeze. But fair warning, he’s got pretty high standards.” 

M/n scratched the back of his neck and whispered under his breath, “Don’t I know it.” Coach Park raised an eyebrow but said nothing, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Their conversation was interrupted by the door swinging open, revealing a flustered, pale boy balancing a precarious stack of papers in his arms. His eyes darted between the two as he tried to steady the stack. 

M/n’s previously furrowed brow relaxed, his face lighting up with recognition. “Sunoo?” 

The boy froze mid-step, blinking rapidly before a shy smile broke through. “Oh, uh, hey. Am I interrupting something?” 

“Nope, we were just about done here,” Coach Park said, standing up and gesturing to the papers. “Sunoo, how about you take M/n to the court and show him around? I’ll take those off your hands.” 

Sunoo hesitated for a moment before handing the stack over, letting out a relieved sigh. “Sure, Coach.” 

Turning to M/n, he gave a playful grin. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.” 

M/n chuckled, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Could be worse.” 

As they stepped out into the hallway, Sunoo’s hand crept up to M/n’s shoulders, wrapping around his neck in a sort-of back hug. “I’m so happy we get to play together.” 

M/n groaned dramatically. “Maybe not for long, though.” 

“I’ll take what I can get.” 

The gym was alive with the faint echo of balls bouncing and sneakers squeaking against polished floors. Sunoo led M/n through the side entrance, his confident stride a stark contrast to M/n’s tentative steps. 

“Welcome to our gym,” Sunoo said with a flourish, gesturing grandly toward the sprawling volleyball court. 

M/n chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “This isn’t... horrible. It’s a step up from Fifty-Forty’s gym.” 

Sunoo tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, we like to keep things classy around here.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make M/n’s heart skip. “You’ll fit right in if you behave yourself.” 

“Oh, behave? I can behave,” M/n shot back, grinning as he nudged Sunoo’s arm lightly with his elbow. 

Sunoo rolled his eyes, but his smile never wavered. “Come on, I’ll show you the equipment room first. Don’t get lost, it’s a maze back here.” 

As they walked, Sunoo’s hand brushed against M/n’s. Once. Twice. By the third time, M/n glanced down with a raised eyebrow. It was so obvious Sunoo was infatuated with him. 

They reached the storage room, and Sunoo pushed open the door, revealing racks of volleyballs, nets, and other equipment. He stepped inside, holding the door open for M/n, who stood with his lips pressed, thinking about the events that had unfolded earlier. 

Luckily, Sunoo didn’t push him against a shelf too. 

The gym was buzzing with energy as practice got going. The team moved seamlessly through drills, their coordination and precision evidence of their chemistry. M/n stayed near Sunoo, the pair exchanging light banter as they practiced their serves. 

"Not bad," Sunoo teased, his smirk playful as M/n nailed a particularly tricky serve. 

M/n chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Mhmm, and I might take your spot on the starting lineup." 

Sunoo feigned a gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. "Not possible, coach adores me. Plus, I'm quite the distraction on the court." 

"Mhm, don’t let your head get too big," M/n replied, his grin widening as Sunoo nudged his shoulder. 

Across the court, Sunghoon watched the interaction with narrowed eyes, his jaw tightening. The casual way M/n and Sunoo laughed and leaned toward each other irked him in a way he couldn’t quite explain. The sight of Sunoo’s hand lingering on M/n’s forearm as they joked sent a jolt of irritation through him. 

It’s almost as if Sunoo helped him escape yesterday. But he didn’t. So why was he getting all the praises? 

“Sunghoon!” Jake’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “You good?” 

Sunghoon forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

But he wasn’t fine. Not even close. 

As the team huddled for the next drill, Sunghoon caught M/n’s eye. His tone was sharp, cutting through the chatter. “Yah, Shin M/n. You think you’re hot shit, flirting on the court instead of focusing on practice?” 

M/n blinked, caught off guard by the sudden accusation. “What’s your problem? No game?” 

Sunghoon crossed his arms, his stare unwavering. “My problem is you acting like this is some social event. If you think you’re good enough to coast through practice and flirt with Sunoo, you must be ready to play. Challenge me.” 

The gym fell silent as the rest of the team exchanged uneasy glances. Sunoo stepped forward, his expression concerned. “Sunghoon, come on. It’s his first day. There’s no need to-” 

“It’s fine,” M/n interrupted, his tone calm but firm. He turned to Sunghoon, meeting his challenging gaze. “If you want to play, let’s play.” 

A net was quickly set up, and the rest of the team gathered on the sidelines, tension thick in the air. M/n and Sunghoon took their positions, the competitive fire in their eyes unmistakable. 

From the very first serve, it was clear neither boys was holding back. The ball ricocheted off their arms and slammed into the floor with a speed and precision that had the team watching in awe. Sunghoon’s movements were sharp and calculated, his years of experience evident in every spike and dive. But M/n matched him with raw athleticism and determination, refusing to back down. 

The game intensified with each rally, sweat dripping from their brows as they pushed each other to their limits. The gym echoed with the sound of sneakers squeaking and the sharp smack of the ball against the floor. 

On the final play, M/n leaped high for a spike, his timing impeccable. But Sunghoon was there, ready to block. Their bodies collided mid-air, the force sending Sunghoon sprawling to the floor with a sharp cry. 

“Sunghoon!” Jungwon was the first to rush to his side, dropping to his knees as the rest of the team gathered around. 

Sunghoon winced, clutching his ankle. “I’m fine,” he muttered through gritted teeth, though the pain was evident in his voice. 

Jungwon frowned, his tone accusatory as he turned to M/n. “What the hell was that? You didn’t need to go so hard!” 

“It was an accident,” M/n said defensively, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. 

“An accident?” Jay echoed, his voice laced with disbelief. “You injured our captain on your first day! How is that an accident?” 

M/n opened his mouth to respond, but the weight of the team’s glares silenced him. 

Jungwon placed a reassuring hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “We need to get you to the nurse’s office. Can you stand?” 

With help from Jungwon and Jake, Sunghoon got to his feet, his injured ankle barely supporting his weight. As they led him off the court, he glanced back at M/n, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and frustration. 

“You’ll never make it,” Sunghoon said coldly, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “If this is how you play, you’ll never make it on this team.” 

The gym was eerily quiet after everyone left, the echoes of the heated game fading into an oppressive silence. M/n sat in the middle of the court, knees pulled up to his chest, staring at the polished floor. His breath came unevenly, the weight of everything. His mistake, the team’s anger, Sunghoon’s words; pressing down on him like a suffocating fog. 

“Hey.” 

M/n glanced up to see Sunoo standing nearby, his usual playful expression replaced by a softness that made M/n’s chest tighten. Without waiting for a response, Sunoo walked over and sat down beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed. 

“You okay?” Sunoo asked quietly, his voice barely audible in the empty gym. 

M/n let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Not even close. But I guess better than Sunghoon.” 

Sunoo tilted his head, his eyes searching M/n’s face. “You know, they’ll chill eventually. Sunghoon’s just... intense. He takes volleyball seriously, and when something throws off his rhythm, he doesn’t handle it well. It’s not all on you.” 

“It feels like it is,” M/n muttered, running a hand through his hair. He hesitated before adding, “It’s not just today. Stuff like this... it keeps happening.” 

Sunoo frowned. “What do you mean?” 

M/n’s throat tightened, the words caught somewhere between shame and anger. “Fifty-Forty... they’ve done something so horrible I can’t even think about my dad without thinking he might have known about what they were planning at the party.” 

Sunoo’s eyes widened, his expression shifting from concern to alarm. “You’re saying your dad was apart of it?” 

“They cornered me after practicey,” M/n interrupted, his voice hollow. “Told me to leave or they’d make me.” He swallowed hard, his hands clenching into fists. “If you guys weren’t there I.... I don’t know. And I’ve already messed this up.” 

Sunoo reached out, his hand resting gently on M/n’s arm. “Hey. Look at me.” 

Reluctantly, M/n turned his head, his gaze meeting Sunoo’s. 

“You didn’t mess up,” Sunoo said firmly. “You’re here because you belong here. Sunghoon might be mad now, but he’s not the type to hold a grudge forever. And the rest of the team? They’ll get over it once they see how hard you’re willing to work. You’re not here becuase you were paid for. You’re here because we saw potential. I see it.” 

M/n’s chest ached at the sincerity in Sunoo’s voice, the warmth in his touch. For the first time in what felt like hours, he felt a flicker of something other than guilt... hope, maybe. 

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Sunoo smiled, his fingers lingering on M/n’s arm. “You don’t have to thank me. That’s what teammates are for.” 

There was a beat of silence, the air between them shifting subtly. M/n’s heart skipped as Sunoo leaned in closer, his gaze dropping to M/n’s lips before flicking back to his eyes. 

“M/n...” Sunoo’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. 

Before M/n could respond, Sunoo closed the distance, his lips brushing against M/n’s in a tentative, gentle kiss. M/n froze for a moment, caught off guard, before his eyes fluttered shut and he kissed back instinctively. 

But as their lips moved together, a wave of confusion and guilt crashed over M/n. He couldn’t stop the unbidden image of Sunghoon flashing in his mind; his sharp eyes, his intense presence, the way his voice lingered in M/n’s thoughts even now. 

For a fleeting moment, M/n let himself imagine it was Sunghoon kissing him, not Sunoo. The thought sent a jolt through him, both thrilling and deeply unsettling. 

Sunoo pulled back slightly, his cheeks flushed and his breath unsteady. “Sorry,” he murmured, his voice tinged with both hope and vulnerability. “I just... I wanted to.” 

M/n stared at him, torn between the warmth of Sunoo’s affection and the lingering shadow of Sunghoon in his mind. He forced a small smile, his voice shaking as he said, “It’s okay.” 

But deep down, he wasn’t sure if it really was. 

[geneviveleocardius]

I’d give you my lashes if you could do headcanons (or a drabble w.e. u prefer) about König x reader who’s obsessed with his thick thighs 💕

here it is, love

you didn’t think it was a big deal at first—the way your eyes always seemed to drift down to könig’s thighs when he walked into a room. but how could you not? the man was a giant, and his legs were just as massive and powerful as the rest of him.

it started off innocently enough.

“you’ve been staring, schatz,” könig said one evening, his voice low and teasing. he was sitting on the couch, his legs spread wide as he cleaned his gear, and you were perched on a nearby chair, trying not to get caught ogling him. again.

“what? no, i wasn’t.” you lied, poorly, feeling your face heat up.

he chuckled, a sound that rumbled deep in his chest. “you think i don’t notice? always looking. what is it about them, hmm?”

you stammered, trying to come up with an excuse, but könig set down his gear and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

“do you want to touch them?” he asked, his tone far too casual for the way it made your stomach flip.

your mouth went dry. the truth was, you did want to. you’d been wanting to for ages, but saying it out loud felt… well, a little embarrassing.

he must have seen the hesitation in your face because he reached for your hand and guided it to rest against his thigh. even through the fabric of his cargo pants, the sheer size and firmness of him made you shiver.

“see? not so scary,” he murmured, his voice dipping into that soft, coaxing tone he used only with you.

your fingers flexed against the muscle, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched. “scary? no. distracting? yes.”

he laughed again, the sound full of warmth. “so this is why you get so flustered during training, eh? all because of my legs?”

“oh, shut up,” you muttered, but you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face.

he shifted slightly, leaning back and patting his other thigh. “come here, then. if you’re going to admire them, you might as well get comfortable.”

you hesitated for half a second before clambering onto his lap, settling across his thighs. they were just as solid as you’d imagined, and when his hands settled on your hips, grounding you, you felt like you might melt.

“better?” he asked, tilting his head to look up at you.

“much,” you said, your fingers tracing idle patterns along the seams of his pants. “you know, you’re very comfy for someone so intimidating.”

he hummed, his hands sliding up to your waist. “only for you, meine süße.”

and in that moment, nestled against könig, you decided that being a little obsessed with his thighs wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[out-there-tmblr]

Young zaundads wip (28)

***

It feels endless but Vander doesn't let himself think of anything but the next strike, the next crack to work wider, the next boulder to drag out of the rubble. They're both exhausted and it feels like they're getting nowhere, but the growing piles of loose rubble behind them prove otherwise. Vander needs a longer rest between strikes, needs to catch his breath as he rolls out each rock. Luckily, the lantern also keeps overheating, casting them into darkness for minutes at a time and giving them no choice but to push the rubble behind them by feel alone.

Ahead of him, Silco asks, "Do you want the good news or the bad news?" and the tone of his voice makes it clear there is no good news.

"Good news."

"Good news is that we're not going to run out of air in here," Silco says.

Vander looks up but he can't make out anything in this darkness. "What do you mean?"

"Pass me the lantern," Silco says and Vander has to carefully pat the ground around him to find it. When he gives it to Silco, Silco hisses. He must have touched the hot base by mistake.

The light flickers back on, yellow and faded. Silco crawls over to hold the lantern close to the collapsed rubble and points to a small tendril of green-grey gas curling between the lowest rocks. "It's not airtight."

"So what do we do?" Vander asks, watching the Grey slither across the floor. "Keep digging?"

Silco looks as dismayed as Vander feels. "We could always set a charge and hope we don't blow ourselves up."

That tendril of Grey slinks across the floor and then slides to one side of the tunnel, disappearing. "Did you see that?"

Silco crouches and walks over to peer beside Vander. "See what?"

"Watch the Grey," Vander says as another small wisp of smoke comes through the rubble and follows the same path.

Silco reaches down and traces the path with his fingers. Then he turns to Vander with bright, hopeful eyes. "There's a draft. Here."

Clumsy with tiredness, Vander fumbles to release his gauntlets. He finally gets them off and reaches out with bare hands. Silco's right: he can feel a tiny draft tugging at his fingertips.

"There must be a cavern behind there," Silco says, "Maybe an exit."

Vander pulls his gauntlets on again and carefully strikes that exact spot. It takes three hits to crack, and then another two to be able to pull a rock free. There's a gust of air when they do and Silco holds up the lantern to show the empty space behind it. Together, they clear enough space for Silco to shimmy through.

Silco holds a hand out for the lantern, and Vander passes it to him. "Is it a cavern? Big enough to wait out the Grey?"

"I don't know what it is," Silco replies. The space is big enough for his voice to echo and that's good enough for Vander.

"Stand clear," Vander calls out. "I'm going to make this hole wider."

Silco passes back the lantern and then calls when he's clear. Vander strikes the rock again. And again. He still has to turn sideways and work one shoulder through at a time, but he climbs through to the ledge in the largest cavern he's ever seen. When he holds the lantern up he realises it's not a rock ledge – it's not natural. It's been carved, a giant high table carved out of the rock itself, with curved columns and fluted edges.

The cavern itself is so big the lantern doesn't light it all. It has huge columns, reaching from the floor to the soaring roof, carved into smooth curves. The floor is more than a man's height beneath them, but it's smooth and polished. "What is this place?"

"I don't know," Silco says and Vander follows his voice. He's standing at the edge of the table, looking at the far wall.

It's a massive statue. A kind-faced goddess looks down at them, her long hair caught by an unseen breeze.

"Janna?" Vander asks, because he grew up with those stories. All of riverside knows to pray for good winds.

"They always said she watched over the mines. I didn't know they meant it literally."

Tucked away from the edge, there's a set of human sized steps carved into the wall. They follow them down and wander through the space. From this angle, the carved statue smiles down at them. She's beautiful and somehow reassuring.

Vander bows his head to recite the prayers he doesn't believe in, the words his Ma used to recite every morning. Silco doesn't join in but he looks down at his feet and lets Vander finish.

"It doesn't hurt to say thank you," Vander says sheepishly, "just in case that was divine intervention."

Silco nods and they keep exploring by the dwindling light of their lantern. Every surface is covered in fine dirt, like this Place hasn't been touched in decades.

"How old do you think this is?" Vander asks as Silco runs fingers through the dirt on patterns etched into the wall.

"Very old." Gently, Silco traces the pattern again, drawing wide lines in the dust. "Older than the mine. Maybe older than Piltover."

Silco steps back and frowns at the wall. "Does that look like letters to you?"

Vander squints at it. He'd assumed it was just a pattern but it might be letters, letters taller than a yordle. "Are there more?"

They feel along the wall, wiping the dust off the etching. The letters spread out over eight paces, but they feel along the wall until they seem to stop. And then they have to stand back to read it.

"Osha Va…" Silco reads out carefully, "…Zaun."

"What does it mean?"

Silco shrugs. "It's too well done to be graffiti. Maybe it's who the shrine was built for. Or the name of this place. Maybe it means 'exit this way'. We'll never know."

Vander looks around, the ceiling so high it fades into black. It's amazing and eerie, something built for crowds of people who have all been forgotten. "How can nobody know about this?"

"It's been buried for a long time. Too deep for anyone to find. Lost in the dark," Silco says quietly, like this vast, abandoned place deserves to be mourned. "Like everything else that gets buried down here."

Vander reaches for his hand, tangling their fingers together. They both look over when the lantern in his hand starts to flicker again.

They agree to climb back up to the ledge to get some rest. Even if the Grey does leak in here there's no way it could fill up the whole room. They'll be safe above it and they can let the lantern cool down.

Vander carefully places his gauntlets and the lantern against the wall, and then stretches out on his back. He's so exhausted he should fall straight asleep but he finds himself lying there, listening to the wheeze of air moving through the tunnels.

He keeps thinking that it's so big. Hundreds of people must have built this, people who are all long gone now. But once, this place was made with love and care.

Silco rolls over, wrapping his Arms around Vander and commandeering his chest as a pillow. "Go to sleep, Vander."

Somehow that's easier with Silco in his arms, with Silco's slow breaths and steady heartbeat. With Silco's soft hair brushing Vander's cheek.

***

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

✨Strawberries and Cream Presents✨: A Kinkmas mini episode

How The Grinch Stole Christmas

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word Count: 5k

Notes: Have y’all seen Mufasa yet? That movie is G O O D anyway I miss strawberries and cream just as much as y’all do I PROMISE. I’m working on it again and hoping to get da juices flowing 😤😤😤

You pull up to the front of the mansion and park the car, a big smile on your face as you turn to Eddie. You’d set up this entire little present for him for Christmas. He’d always done nice little things like this for you, and you felt like it was time to pay him back.

“Tada!!” You squeak excitedly and he jumps a little at your enthusiasm but bends forward to look out of the car anyway.

He stares at the large house in front of him, it’s gorgeous, more gorgeous than he’s ever seen in his life. He can hardly believe a place like this even exists in your snowy home state, but it does and he’s here and what the fuck. It’s even nicer than that one couple friend’s house he always takes you to.

“H-how did” His mouth is gaping as you giddily hop from the car and shut the door, going back to the trunk.

“How the heck can you afford this”

He knows it’s rude and he knows this was a present but he has to ask. Because this is Hollywood-level living- this is Kardashian-level living.

“A certain actor friend of yours helped me pull some strings! It’s ours for two whole weeks!”

“T-two? Two weeks?” His brain is melting as you drag the large suitcase over to his side of the car and go back for the others

“Yeah! I also happened to work things out with Bobby and we agree you need this time off. And the state agrees you need time off! So you were granted the time and boy am I taking advantage of this”

You drag two suitcases over before he finally realizes “Oh I should be helping” and gets out of the car, he grabs the suitcase from your hands and sets it on the ground

“Hey don’t worry I can-“ You’re cut off by him kissing you, he holds your face in his hands, pouring all his love and adoration into the kiss and your heart melts for him.

He pulls away slowly, kissing the tip of your nose and you chase after him, pecking his lips one more time.

“I love you, we should get married”

You wave the diamond ring on your finger in his face and smirk.

“We are silly, I’m wedding dress shopping while I’m here remember? Since the rest of my friends are here”

“Without Buck?” His hands are on your waist now and you roll your eyes, your cousin would have killed you had you not worked out that minor detail

“He’ll be here, he’s gonna be staying with us for three days and then he’s heading back. Oh and Maddie!”

“Yeah that sounds like him”

You both grab a couple of the bags and then you take Eddie’s hand, pulling him toward the house

“Come on!! If you think the outside is nice?? You have to see the rest”

He drops the bags at the door the second he steps in, you let go of his hand and start dragging them out of the way as he walks in with his jaw on the floor

“Holy shit- Hooooly shit” He just keeps repeating it as he spins around slowly, it’s like a mini villa, like the ones he would see when he visited his cousins in Mexico when he was younger. He reaches back blindly and takes your hand

“Come on I wanna look around!”

He drags you around the house with childlike enthusiasm, running from room to ornate room, there’s so much more space than he thought there would be, there’s even a pool outback.

The large arched windows in the last room let in a massive amount of the sunset, warming things up and Eddie takes your hands, pulling you over to the California King Size bed

“I wanna sleep in this one” He claims it, nuzzling your nose and you giggle, slipping your arms around his neck

“Okay, seems perfect to me! You wanna keep looking around? Maybe get unpacked and go to the store?”

“That,” He turns you around slowly, and picks your hips up, setting you on the bed “Sounds so boring”

He falls on top of you and you open your legs, letting him settle in between them with a sweet smile on your face

“We won’t have dinner” You play with his hair, your tone soft and soothing

“I can think of plenty of things to eat, two in particular”

“Eddie!” You squeak and laugh when he growls and bites your neck, you shove at his chest and he pins your hands to the bed, moaning exaggeratedly as he grinds his hips into yours. Your back arches a little bit, and he wraps his arms behind you, growling in your ear and sending a wave of sexual tension through your body.

You slap his butt like bongos and he snickers into your shoulder before rolling off of you. He spreads his arms and legs, making a snow angel in the sheets and you push off the bed and flop down across him.

“Eddieeee” you wriggle on top of him and he slaps your ass, making you yelp as he squeezes it

“Alright okay okay we’re going” He whines while you crawl off of him and he gets up, smacking your ass one more time before grabbing your waist and putting you over his shoulder

“To Target!”

Not that Eddie ever could, but he truly can’t get enough of you. You’re sat together on the fluffy brown couch. Your legs are in his lap, your back against the armrest and he’s got his arms around you, snuggling into you. He peppers little kisses all over your face and you blush, cupping his cheeks and kissing him softly.

“This is really amazing Sugar Cube,” He says into your neck as you run your fingers through his hair, combing it back.

“Hey, it's what you deserve” You kiss his forehead, resting your lips against it and he pulls away, looking up at you

“What about you huh? What about what you deserve?” He runs his hand down your thigh, squeezing gently and you shrug

“Look at this place!, I think it’s just as much a vacation for you as it is for me…besides, we finally just get to spend some time alone together. After��.after what happened I feel like there’s never enough time with you”

Eddie smiles sadly, thinking about what you two had gone through a couple of years ago, something that had left a scar on both of you even if you’d learned to work past it, even if the nightmares had finally stopped.

“I know what you mean… sometimes I feel that way too, but… we can’t let it rule our lives. We’re okay now Sugar Cube”

He rests his forehead against yours and your eyelids flutter closed, taking in a deep breath. His cologne fills your senses, calming you embarrassingly quickly like it always does and you smile

“I know”

You sit comfortably in his lap, listening to him hum along to the song playing through the speakers, as he kisses your neck, leaving behind a pretty necklace in his path. He takes your wrist, his fingers sliding over your pulse and you look up at him, a soft smile on your face.

“Hi”

“Hi”

He looks at you, studying your face, all the little things about it that he’s come to love after all of this, he understood it- Nero’s obsession, understood why he couldn’t let her go. Because looking at you now? Your eyes sparkling with life, your heartbeat strong under his fingertips, that ring on your finger…

He’d do what Nero did too.

“Can I have this dance?”

He gets out from under you, standing in front of you and listening to the beginning notes of the song playing, he does a little bow and winks at you as he reaches out.

You shake your head, getting up and taking his outstretched hand, he twirls you into his arms, your back against his chest as you move your hips with his. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer and you reach back, cupping his face. He smirks and puts his hand over yours, kissing from your palm to your shoulder, before taking your hand and spinning you away from him again.

You look at him, a lusty fire in your eyes as you come back to him, he slowly wraps your arms around his neck before sliding his hands down over your sides and holding your waist again.

You roll your hips against him, and he shakes his head pretending to be disappointed but grinds against you anyway, letting you feel the bulge in his pants.

“That’s not how you properly bachata, you know this corazòn” he playfully scolds you, sliding his hands down to your ass as you dance together

“Uh huh, you’re getting on me? Your form is terrible. This is my dance space,” you take a step back from him and gesture “And this is your dance space”

He yanks you back toward him and you squeal as you both go down to the floor,

“When was the last time we watched Dirty Dancing anyway??” He’s laid out on the floor and you’re in a little heap with him

“Me and Buck watched it like three weeks ago”

“You watched dirty dancing without me?!?!!”

“Oh no I think I hear the alarm for the pizza oh no, oh gosh, oh no”

You try and scramble away from him and he grabs your waist, letting you drag his body with you

“Oh my god let go!”

“You’re not getting away from me that easily!!! I can’t believe you guys would do that to me! After everything you both constantly put me through!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” You finally make it to the kitchen with his arms wrapped tightly around your leg.

“Two Buckleys?! Two and you’re asking me what I mean by that”

“Technically three if you count Maddie” You peek in the oven at the pizza, rubbing your hands together evilly

“It’s Maddie, she doesn’t count. She’s like, the least annoying”

“Have you met their parents?” You snicker as you grab the oven mitts and finally shake him off, he rolls away a little so you can open the oven

“I have. Wasn’t impressed, glad you three seem to have not gotten the short end of the stick”

You take the pizza out and set it on the stovetop before turning around and looking down at him

“You ready for dinner?”

“Doesn’t it have to cool?”

You walk around, standing on his toes and reaching for his hands

“Waiting for pizza to cool is for the we-“

You scream as he yanks you down on top of him and rolls over on you, holding himself up as he attacks you with kisses. Your protests are muffled by his lips until they eventually die down when you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back.

“Oh come on Sugar Cube… I think we can make a little time for it to cool…don’t you?”

You whimper softly as he rolls his hips against yours, grinding his clothed cock into you. He reaches down to pull down your leggings and you freeze, pushing him off you and pretending to karate chop him

“Hold up, wait, wait, wait, we can’t!! I’ve got a surprise!!”

He groans as he lays on his back, letting out a long sigh

“If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure!” You get up off the floor and he rubs his hands over his face, his cock straining clearly against his sweatpants.

“Not even just the tip?” He asks sweetly and you snort, laughing and helping him up

“Not even the tip, cowboy”

You wait until after dinner to put your little plan into action. You’re lying on Eddie on the couch as you watch Dirty Dancing, it’s just getting to the part where Baby finds Penny in the kitchen when you sit up, stretching a little and pausing the movie

“Hey, What’s up?” He asks quietly, setting his hands on your hips, and you grin, feeling the warmth of them seep into your skin.

“Oh, I’m just…I’m kinda cold” You shrug and he sits up, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch

“We can cuddle more if you want, though you’re lying on me so I really don’t know how much closer we can get” He chuckles and you take the blanket, easing it from his hands.

“I had a better idea! If you’re up for it” You get off of him and step away, dropping your cozy leggings to reveal a simple red thong, Eddie’s jaw drops as he watches you take off your shirt, the matching bra has pretty white lace lining it.

“You’re like a really kinky Santa’s little helper aren’t you?”

You cackle and hold your sides, laughing at him as he gets up from the couch and walks toward you, you back up slowly, still snickering and he starts to walk faster.

“You’re making this not sexy!” You wheeze between laughs and he looks at you, his pretty brown eyes clouded with lust, a dangerous hue washing over them.

“No, I’m not. I love your laugh.” He says it…so sickly sweet it snaps you back to the way he’s walking, the slow, precise steps, his incredibly relaxed demeanor… how he’s very slowly starting to crouch down like he’s gonna pounce.

“E-Eddie?” You gulp, letting out a nervous little laugh “Whatcha doin'?”

“I’m just standing here Sugar Cube”

He is most definitely not just standing there.

“You know there’s uh- a part two right? It’s not just this?” You gesture to yourself, backing up faster and he follows right after you

“Oh?” He stalls a little and you take that as an opportunity to take a big step back

“Yup! There is absolutely most definitely a part two and if you’d just let me make it there alive, I can show you”

“By all means, lead the way” He winks at you with a flourish of his arms and you stare at him suspiciously before leading him through the house. He sheds his clothes along the way and your mouth waters at the idea of what you’re going to turn around to.

He watches you walk in front of him with a hungry gaze, biting his lip as your ass jiggles with each step… oh he could get used to this. You lead him outside, down the fancy stone stairs to the pool, it’s lit up beautifully as you walk him past it. He gets a teeny bit distracted by the fact that he’s absolutely doing laps in that pool tomorrow morning.

You walk down another set of stairs, stopping for a second to unclasp the front of your bra, you let it dangle from your finger before dropping it. You ease off the thong, holding the ends of it to bounce your cheeks for a second before letting it drop from your body.

You walk over to the in-ground hot tub that overlooks the entire valley you’re staying in and slip off your shoes before stepping into the hot water and turning toward him. Your breath is caught in your throat, you knew he was taking off his clothes of course… but now he’s standing in front of you, slipping off his shoes too and stepping into the pool. You reach over and tap a button on the side and the jets turn on, bubbling immediately around you.

You sit on the little bench and look at him, biting your lip as he comes and sits next to you.

“Skinny dipping in the hot tub huh?”

“I thought maybe we could have a little…round two, from my first time? You remember right?”

He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. You can feel the energy radiating from his body, the intense need to just take you. But he kisses you like it’s the first time like he’s still a bit shy, doesn’t know if you’re gonna reciprocate and it just about melts your heart.

“Of course I remember” He nuzzles his nose against yours and you giggle, doing it back “One of the best damn nights of my life”

Your cheeks flush a pretty pink and he pulls away a little just to stare at you, to stare at the love of his life… the woman he’s going to marry.

“Mine too,” you say quietly, not breaking the hushed tension that’s fallen over you two. It’s so thick you could cut it with a knife, and when you look into his eyes, a heavy weight settles on your chest. It’s comfortable, familiar, like he’s curling up in your soul, and he’s there to stay.

“I love you” He breathes, cupping your face with a wet hand. You smile and crawl into his lap, setting your arms on his shoulders

“You know? What a coincidence! I just happen to love you too”

“What a great turn of events we have here” He snickers and holds your waist, putting you properly in his lap so you’re straddling him. He drags his hands slowly over your curves, the hot, bubbling water causing a deep desire to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“I wonder what we’re gonna do…with all this love” He mumbles, leaning down and kissing your breasts, his moan is mumbled as he buries his face between them, his hands coming up to squeeze them on his face

“Eddie Diaz!” You squeak and he places soft kisses on them.

“Yes? Mrs. Diaz?”

He grins wickedly when he feels the way your hips stutter against his, your cheeks flushing

“Oh…oh you like that don’t you Sugar cube?” he kisses your neck, squeezing your sides and you arch your back a little

“Mrs Edmundo Diaz“ He inhales your sweet perfume, his eyes rolling back a little as his hips move against yours. His hands flow down your sides and push your ass against him, your breath hitches and he smiles, looking up at you with all the adoration in the world.

“You’ve got little hearts in your eyes” You giggle, pulling him closer to you and settling against him

“So do you” He teases, letting his head rest against the ledge of the pool while you attack his neck, sucking and biting at his sensitive skin, causing his hips to buck against yours

“Why can’t you be Mr. Y/N Buckley? Because personally, I feel like Eddie Buckley is cute” You interrogate and he hums, gasping when you bite down on the soft spot on his neck.

“Uh…I mean-“ Your tongue trails over his Adam’s apple and he groans quietly, losing his train of thought completely.

“Or maybe… we can be both” You reach down, stroking his cock and he melts into your hand, slumping further into the water

“Hm?”

Your thumb swirls over the tip as you massage his cock, watching the way his mouth falls open slowly and he jerks into your hand

“We can be Diaz-Buckley, that way you’re happy… and you know, Buck is happy”

“Please don’t mention your cousin when your hand is on my cock”

You snort into his shoulder, and he smacks your butt, squeezing your cheeks and you squeak, pushing at his hands

“Hey! Watch those paws!”

“Right, so you can jerk me off like a little tease but I can’t touch you back? Is that what we’re playing at?”

Your jaw drops open and closed as you stare at him, he smirks and you want to rip his stupid mustache off

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about”

“I think that’s enough foreplay” You yelp as he gets up, holding your waist and turning you over. He manhandles you into position, your knees spread, hands braced against the smooth walls.

He leans over you, pressing his body into yours and sliding his hand between your legs, you whimper softly as he spreads your folds, sliding his fingers against your slick clit easily. Your head falls forward and he uses his legs to push you forward a bit. Your hips roll against his cock as he nudges you forward more and you turn your head back

“Eddie what are you-“ Your spine snaps straight and he chuckles, listening to you moan sweetly as he pushes you toward one of the jets. He keeps your hips in place and you spread your legs wider letting your head fall forward again as you roll them against the water stream.

“Ohh my god” You purr and Eddie lets go of your hip, stroking his cock a couple of times. He leans forward and kisses your shoulder and you shiver, looking back at him

“Thought you said foreplay was over” You mutter and he kisses you, his tongue swirling with yours and sending you spinning

“For me, I don’t mind watching you come undone though”

“Is it because you can only last six seconds?”

“Oh haha, hehe, so funny.” He rolls his eyes, lining himself up with you and dragging his cock through your folds, hissing when he feels the jet against him

“Uh huh,” You giggle “feels so-so good doesn’t it” You pant, grinding your ass into him. He groans and squeezes your hip tighter, thrusting his cock between your legs for a second, letting the jets kiss his tip.

“Feels almost as good as you do” He moans, burying his face in your shoulder, you feel him line his cock up with your entrance and you eagerly push back, slipping the tip inside you.

“Jesus Sugar Cube” His voice cracks and your heart pounds in your ears as he pushes into you, his breath hitches and he lets out a soft whine, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. He wraps one arm around your waist and the other slides between your breasts, his long fingers wrapping around your throat.

“Gonna make love to my pretty girl” He pants in your ear as he moves his hips, thrusting slowly at first. You grab his arm, digging your nails into it as his thrusts get harder, he angles his hips deeper, kissing your cervix with every rough snap.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to your size” you pant, your head bouncing on his shoulder and he smirks, trailing his lips down your neck

“And I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving this tight little pussy” He slides his arm down your torso, rubbing your clit in circles

“Shoulda done this for your first time anyway” He bends you forward and makes you brace your hands against the wall, then lifts his leg, planting his foot on the cement seating and pushing into you deeper. You let out a high-pitched shriek as he suddenly pounds into you, his hands gripping your waist and your shoulder as he takes you.

The water is splashing all over the place, you’re sure Eddie is bruising your hip, and your knees are getting a little scraped up but you can’t bring yourself to care and neither can he. You open your legs further, bouncing your hips to meet each thrust and he growls in your ear, sending a shiver up your spine as you curl your toes

“I’m gonna cum baby” He rubs your clit faster and you moan your back arching

“Inside me, please please inside me” you beg and he grunts, his hips stalling for a second and he looks at you

“I mean… I can’t do it in the pool, that’s probably gonna like…throw off the pH balance or something…”

“Eddie Diaz!”

“I’m just saying!! I was a Cabana boy one summer as a teenager okay! I had to clean out the pool and the pool guy taught me all that”

“So what you’re saying is after we’ve fucked in this for the next two weeks you can fix it?”

“Absolutely”

“Wow, that’s actually really interesting!” You put your hand on your chin, resting your elbow on the edge of the wall and he grins

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do! You gotta tell me more….you know after you freaking cum in me and we finish the whole having sex thing”

“Oh my god I totally forgot about that”

“Yeah, I kinda thought so” You smile at him and he blushes, pulling out of you and turning you around. He sinks back into you, his breath hitching while he rubs your thighs as you wrap them around his waist.

He holds your hips, while you wrap your arms around his neck, staring into his eyes. He smiles and leans forward, nuzzling his nose against yours and kissing you softly. Your fingers thread through his short hair, tugging at the soft strands as he sets a lazy pace. He wraps one arm around your waist, making your back arch and places his other hand on the side of the pool.

“Still remember how we fucked like animals for days after your first time” He pants, rolling his hips and you moan, letting your head fall back

“Uh huh” You squeak when he starts to thrust harder, thinking about how tight and innocent you were

“You remember-“ Eddie’s voice catches as his hips speed up, sloshing the water around again. “You remember when I came home for lunch and pinned you down to the kitchen floor?”

He grins wickedly, loving that sweet little blissed-out smile on your face, loving how you always get so cock drunk on him. He pulls you closer to him, your chest bouncing against his as he attacks your neck, biting and sucking at the soft skin, leaving behind his mark.

“You remember the way you tried to crawl away from me after your third creampie and I just kept dragging your hips back?” He hisses in your ear, you feel his grip on your body get tighter, knocking the wind out of you with each intense thrust and You nod fast, because god how could you forget that day? He left you on the floor, cum spilling from your poor, abused pussy while you passed out for a much-needed nap.

It was also super funny when Eddie came home with flowers and a worried look on his face, asking if he’d gone too far, if you were okay and that he’d make it all up to you. You graciously accepted the flowers, giving him a little kiss on the cheek and reassuring him that you definitely would have made him stay if you needed him to. He still felt a little guilty… so he ate you out for hours that night, holding your hand as you climaxed over and over again.

“Can we do that again?” You moan out. You can feel that pressure almost ready to pop and you know he can too when he lets you go, making you put your hands on the cement seating and puts both hands on your hips again, slamming you down on his cock faster and faster

“Fuck I was hoping you’d ask that, You’re not gonna be able to walk this whole trip baby, gonna have my cock inside you every moment” Eddie’s fingers slide over your thigh before brushing against your clit. Your body jerks and he does it again, using his long fingers to rub your clit. Your toes curl and your back arches when he uses a third finger to grind against your clit and you let out a high-pitched scream as you come undone around him.

You meet his thrusts as you ride out your high, mewling and gasping and squirting on his cock. He groans loudly, impatiently waiting for you to start to come down before grabbing your hips with both hands again and slamming into you, you cry out his name and he cums with a loud moan.

His hips don’t stop until he’s shoved every last drop inside you. He pulls out just enough to turn you over on your hands and knees again and thrusts right back inside you, letting out little whimpering noises as he cums again. He rolls his hips, grinding them into yours as he fills you up, cursing your name softly, almost deliriously as he finally finishes.

He doesn’t pull out, instead he pulls your limp body against his chest and plops down on the bench. He slouches a little and wraps his arms tightly around you.

“You okay Corazón?” He pants softly, running his hands over your sides and you nod, still fully blissed out on his cock, especially loving the way you can feel it still inside you

“I think so”

Your voice is a little scratchy and he chuckles, kissing your throat

“I’m sorry I was so rough…you just get me so excited” He peppers little kisses over your neck and you giggle

“Trust me I know the feeling… you remember what else we did?” You play with his fingers and he lets his head fall back against the wall

“No? What?” He asks and you smirk, snuggling down into him

“I guess it’ll just have to be a surprise”

“Anybody home??” Buck enters the house, setting his bag down on the side of the door and slipping off his shoes. You’d left the front door open for him in case you and Eddie were out back in the pool or something. He’d texted before he got on the plane and when he got off, you hadn’t responded to the one where he said he was on his way to the house and he was incredibly suspicious.

He walks through the place, his mouth falling wider as he goes through each room, they’re all more beautiful than the next.

He’d been calling out but there was still no answer… okay so maybe you guys were in the pool… but this house is so huge it’s no wonder you didn’t hear him. He takes out his phone to just call you when he finally comes to the door at the end of the hall

“Where are those two freaks, I’m hungry I wanna go to lu-“

“You’re doing so good for me baby” You moan, as you run your hands over Eddie’s thighs. Your hands trail up to his chest as you thrust into him slowly. His breath hitches and he lets out a low whine when your hand wraps around his cock, jerking him off.

“Fuck Mommy” He blushes deeply, throwing his head back on the pillows

Suddenly you hear the snap of a camera and Eddie’s head shoots up.

“I FUCKING KNEW YOU WERE A LITTLE BITCH”

[jamesirius]

This is me appealing for the side-fic of harry’s pov as well as violet knocking sense into harry because i wanna see a harry and violet interaction!!!

This is so sweet of you to say, thank you! I don't know about a full Harry POV but I, like you, really wanted to see Harry/Violet interaction and I was so sad I couldn't include her in the main fic... so this little outtake is for you!

Set in between chapter 8 and chapter 9 of Fruitcake:

Snow crunched under his boots. A group of fifth years nearby were starting a massive snowball fight, complete with makeshift snow shelters made by magic; in the distance, Harry could see the greenhouses lit up with Herbology N.E.W.T. students taking care of their independent projects. The castle behind him hummed with energy.

He scowled down at the ground. A snowball came flying towards him from the general direction of the fifth year fight.

Harry raised his wand to banish it.

As he did, his wand flew out of his grasp. Turning, he watched it zoom through the air and land in his little sister’s open palm.

“Some Auror you are,” said Violet, brushing snow off her jacket. “That’s a second year spell—”

Harry twisted his wrist, activating his Auror holster. His wand jumped directly out of Violet’s hand and straight back to his holster.

“And that’s why I’m the Auror and you’re not,” he told her.

Violet made a face at him. Harry ignored her and returned to his path winding across the snow and over to the greenhouses. Maybe Neville was in—he wasn’t one of the teachers who had to stay at Hogwarts this holiday, but he usually dropped by to check on the plants anyway—

“So you’re not going back to the Burrow?” asked Violet.

Harry stopped and slanted a glare over at his little sister. She smiled at him, deeply unapologetic, and hopped over the remnants of two snowmen to join him in his walk.

“I thought you wanted the family together for New Year’s.”

“Well, I do, but that was before Hermione told me what’s wrong with you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Oh, right. You’re just gloomily stomping through the snow because… you hate the Hufflepuff fifth years?”

“Maybe I do,” he muttered.

Violet planted herself in front of him and shoved him to a stop. Harry glared at her, massaging his shoulder.

“Will you stop being such an idiot? Just go talk to her.”

“I’m not taking advice from you, you spent Christmas in the Swiss Alps with your boyfriend,” he shot at her. “You have no idea what’s going on.”

“Please, we’re talking about you and Ginny,” said Violet with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I don’t need to be in the country 24/7 to know you’ve had a big fat crush on her for years—”

“Shut up—”

“And that you’re being an idiot,” she continued, talking louder to speak over him, “if you think she doesn’t want you, too.”

Harry muttered something under his breath.

“What?” asked Violet.

“I said she doesn’t.”

Violet looked singularly unimpressed. Harry made to shoulder past her, knocking her slightly sideways, until she righted herself and scrambled back to his side on the snowy pathway.

“Why do you think she doesn’t?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he grumbled.

“Harry. Why do you think—”

“Because I kissed her and she ran away!” Harry snapped. “And then she told me to spend the rest of Christmas holidays here, instead of with her. It’s not exactly a mixed message, Vi. It’s pretty blatant.”

“Okay,” said Violet slowly, pulling up in front of him and forcing him to stop again. “Go back. When you kissed her, you didn’t, like, force it on her, did you?”

“What? No!” Harry recoiled as if she had struck him. “I mean, I—I kissed her first. But she kissed me back. It wasn’t like—” His voice trailed off rather pathetically; had it been like that? She’d been pretty enthusiastic, but he’d been drunk and so had she. And there was no denying he’d pulled her into it when she’d been trying to walk away.

“Then why did she run away?” asked Violet, brushing her dark hair out of her face as a wind picked up.

Harry lowered his head into the collar of his jacket, so that she wouldn’t see the expression on his face as he admitted: “Cho interrupted us.”

Violet stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment.

“What?” he asked when he had enough of the silence.

“Harry, I swear to fucking Merlin, you are a lost cause,” she said with a sigh. “Why would you let your ex-girlfriend interrupt you in the middle of a kiss?”

“I didn’t plan on it!” he protested. “She just came up to us and then Ginny fucking bolted before I had a chance to say anything—”

“So you had zero chance to tell her, ‘hey, Ginny, I don’t have feelings for Cho at all and I only like you?’”

Harry glowered at her, but said nothing.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” said Violet grimly. “Harry, she doesn’t know. You can’t sit here feeling upset that she doesn’t return your feelings when you’ve never made it fucking clear. In fact, knowing you, I’d guess you’ve made it the opposite of clear.”

“Shut up,” Harry grumbled. “What does that even mean? I literally kissed her—”

“What happened before you kissed her?”

“What?” he asked, dumbfounded.

Violet raised both eyebrows.

“I’m assuming you didn’t grab her out of nowhere. Something happened, right? What made you kiss her?”

Harry stared at his sister for a moment, feeling an old and distressing stirring of guilt inside his stomach, then walked past her, his boots crunching through the snow.

“Harry,” Violet called after him, annoyed.

He stopped with his back to her, heaving a sigh.

“She said—she said that she had been in love with me for years, till she was seventeen—and that she didn’t want to do it again and to stop acting like I wanted her.”

The words came out of him in a rush, half-muttered into the drifting snow. He could hear Violet’s footsteps behind him until she came up next to him again; he didn’t turn to look at her and she kindly didn’t place herself in front of him again.

“So… you kissed her because you wanted her to like you again?”

“What?” Harry frowned, his head swiveling around to stare at her in confusion. “No. That’s not—what?”

“Well, that’s what you just told me, isn’t it?” Violet said. “She said she didn’t want to be in love with you, so you kissed her.”

“You don’t get it,” he muttered.

“What don’t I get?”

“I know she’s in love with me,” Harry burst out. “Her Patronus is—it’s me. My wolf form.”

“Oh, I see,” said Violet, mock-thoughtfully. Harry narrowed his eyes at her. “You kissed her because you wanted to prove her wrong.”

“What? No.”

“Yes,” she countered. “She said she wasn’t still in love with you and didn’t want to be, but because you know better, you kissed her to prove that she is still in love with you—”

“Shut up,” Harry snapped. “For Merlin’s sake, Vi, you’re making me sound awful—”

“Well, you’ve kind of been awful!” Violet said, loudly enough that he fell quiet in surprise. “Why have you been pretending to date her? Why would you let her think you’re still interested in Cho Chang? Do you have any idea how confusing you sound? I can’t imagine living it!”

“But—I—” Harry stopped, staring at her in dismay. “I didn’t—it wasn’t my plan to pretend to date, I don’t—”

“Oh, come off it, Harry,” she said with a deep sigh. “It wasn’t your idea but you went along with it, and at any point, did it occur to you to tell her, ‘I actually really like you and I want to date you for real’ or did you think pretending to be her boyfriend would be enough?”

“Well, I—I didn’t know if she liked me back,” he spluttered.

“You just said you did,” Violet pointed out. “You said her Patronus was you, that’s a pretty clear sign.”

Harry said nothing, just swallowed hard.

“Or is that not enough suddenly?” asked Violet.

He exhaled through his teeth. “You don’t—it’s complicated.”

“How is it complicated?” Violet demanded. “You’ve been in love with her for years, and you have magical proof that she—”

“One year,” Harry muttered defensively.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Two years.”

“One and a half.”

“Frankly, I think you’ve been in love with her since you were eighteen.”

“What?”

“Or do you not remember when you came back to Hogwarts to watch us win the Quidditch Cup that year?” Violet crossed her arms, eyebrows raised in a perfect copy of their mum’s expression when she was about to provide the argument-winning evidence of who in their household had committed the latest prank offense in the face of everyone’s denials. “I was on the team that year, and yet when you, Mum, and Dad came down to the field after we won, you made a beeline for Ginny, not me, your sister—”

“I don’t remember that.”

“Right.” Violet looked supremely doubtful. Harry made a face at her. “Well. Either way, it’s been a while. Honestly, at this point, if you’re stupid enough to just let her go, then you deserve to be miserable for the rest of your life.”

Harry glared at her a moment longer, then his shoulders dropped in a deep sigh.

“I don’t want to let her go,” he mumbled, mostly to the snow.

“Then don’t,” said Violet matter-of-factly. “You’re a Gryffindor. Go tell her the truth. For once.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, grimacing.

“What if she doesn’t—”

“Then she doesn’t.” Violet’s voice softened. “But I think she will.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “You’ve known her almost twenty years, and you’ve been an idiot the whole time, and she hasn’t kicked you to the curb yet, has she?”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Thanks for that.”

“What are sisters for?”

[typicalopposite]

Here’s a lil schnippet

ok so I was tagged a ton on Sunday ( @nine-one-wanton @bidisasterevankinard @bangpop91 @onthewaytosomewhere @hyperfocusthusly @leashybebes & @rosyhoneydew ) but it’s Monday and since I am still behind on last weeks make me write AND it’s also the first day of RarePair week (which this technically falls under) I’m just posting something — a long something… this chapter is gonna be 👀 massive — from the Jonah Fic chapter THREE — hopefully it will be done SOON 😀

Heartache

also rare pair week day one - beginnings/endings !

chapter one | chapter two

TRIGGER WARNING: Abusive Relationships; Manipulation; forced heart condition; dom/sub undertones

Tommy pushed the door closed behind him

And waited for Jonah to wander out of the bedroom. He didn’t. He waited for him to call him into the bedroom. He didn’t. He took a deep breath and made his way to the bedroom instead. “Baby…” he said, pushing the door open. “He’s— Jonah…” Tommy stopped just inside the room, staring at Jonah standing ominously beside the bed. A black bag sitting on top of the mattress.

“Must be nice to get recognition for what you can do…” Jonah said bitterly. “To have people know you are actually good at your job…” 

“Baby… you’re amazing at your job! You know that.”

“I know that I know that, Tommy,” Jonah hissed. “It's them! My captain, my coworkers…”

“I know it,” Tommy counters. “I know that you are the most skilled paramedic out there. LAFD would be lucky to have you…” 

Words that should have never left his lips! But he hadn’t known— could never have known Jonah would leave his department for Tommy’s… 

“They would be… wouldn’t they?” Jonah said, slowly turning to face him. “Do you feel lucky to have me, baby?” 

“Of course…”

Jonah walked over to him, his hands held out to Tommy and Tommy quickly took them; he quickly latched on to the first hints of affection after Jonah had been so angry earlier. “Would you let me take care of you? Let me repay you for the sweet thoughtful gesture… even though you failed miserably and we now have to order take out.” Tommy didn’t even flinch at the insult laced compliment. He was so embarrassingly used to it… 

Jonah reached up and cupped Tommy’s cheek, still tender from earlier… Tommy leans into the touch— craves the gentle touch. “I’m so sorry…” he whispered.

“I know you are,” Jonah replied. “That’s why you’re going to do what I ask now, right?” 

“Anything.”

“Good boy.” 

He should have said no. He should have walked away.  

Jonah led him to the bed and pushed him down to sit on it. Then he leaned down and began kissing him. It quickly heated up and Jonah eased Tommy’s shirt up and off; he gently eased him back to lie on the bed, climbing on to straddle his hips. He continued kissing him, kissing over him, while Jonah managed to keep Tommy pinned down to the bed like a weight with a simple ‘Don’t move’. Tommy was defenseless against his orders. 

Suddenly Jonah was digging through the bag with one hand, pulling things out and sitting them beside Tommy’s body. He finally broke his lips away from Tommy’s skin and hovered over his face. “I want to try something with you, okay? But I need you to trust me…”

Tommy nodded.

“Use your words, Tommy.”

“I- I trust you.” 

With that Jonah pushed up enough to grab one of the things that were now touching Tommy’s side. A rubber tourniquet… he began to tie it around Tommy’s arm. “You know I would never hurt you, right?” 

Tommy nodded; Jonah glared. “Y- yes. I know that.”

“I’m good at what I do.”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“You’re a- amazing… at what you do baby. The best.” That made Jonah smile. He leaned down and kissed Tommy again, softly this time. Tommy tried to chase after him as he pulled away but he held him in place with one hand. “Jonah…” he practically whined. 

“Patience. I need to get everything ready.” Tommy watches as Jonah pulls on a pair of latex gloves, popping them to his wrist with an almost playful grin. He nervously laughed at it, and tried to steady his breathing. Then Jonah picked up a little glass bottle and a syringe…

“Jo- Jonah… what— what is that?”

“Shhh… you said you trusted me? Right?” Tommy didn't respond. Jonah didn’t seem to mind, too focused on drawing the liquid up into the needle. “I’m going to prove to you how good I am at saving lives.”

He puts the bottle down and flicks the syringe, squeezing the medicine inside up until a drop comes out of the tip. Then he begins to bring it towards Tommy’s arm. “I- I already know how good you are… you— you don’t have to prove anything to m- me.”

“Oh but believing and seeing are two completely different things, baby. I’m giving you the chance to see my skills in action.” 

Tommy could have fought him off. He should have fought him off. He laid there instead frozen out of fear… and obedience. “I- I’m scared… Jonah,” he admitted, partially anticipating it to piss Jonah off. It surprisingly didn’t.

“Here… I’ll hold your hand,” he offered smiling and there wasn’t a single trace of love or compassion… Tommy had never seen a more insincere smile— it was enough, it would have to be. Tommy stared at Jonah’s face, at that smile… and clung to the memories of the very beginning, when things were good, and the made up future he knew he’d nerved have.

It started to work so fast. Tommy gasped and began to hyperventilate. Jonah leaned over him and kissed his cheek. “Jo- Jo- Jonah…” Tommy managed, feeling a tear slip from his eye. “L- Love you…” just in case he never got to say it again.

Jonah didn’t say it back.

Tommy’s eyes closed.

Then he felt a sharp jolt as life rushed back into his body. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (let me know if you want to be added for the last chapter or removed 🫶) : @sunnywithachanceofbi @weewookinard @xtarmanderx @racerchix21 @sad-girl-hours23

@laundryandtaxesworld @swagmaster9k @iphyslitterator @adian-ua @littlepaws9

@exhaustedpirate @unhingedangstaddict

[regency-monster-love]

This story was inspired by a line in a story by @slightly-knot-insane that mentioned a monster sharing his name as a way to form a mating bond. I loved that idea and wanted to expand on it here, and the “Christian name” prompt for @janeuary-month seemed like the perfect chance to do that!

Male monster x female human | Regency era | NSFW: p in v, loss of virginity

~ 😈🎩 ~

The newlyweds were finally alone, the wedding breakfast over and all guests departed, when the monster gentleman leaned down to give his new wife his mating gift: his first name. It drifted past his lips, warm against her ear, and she shivered at the feel of it seeping into her.

She hadn’t thought it would affect her so; she was only a human, after all, and exchanging names to form a mating bond was a custom for his kind of monster only. But she’d waited so long to learn what his name was, that to finally hear it now, made her truly feel as if the last bit of wall between them had been torn clean away, bringing an intimacy beyond any she’d felt from him yet.

When she repeated his name to him, it was his turn to shiver, though the feeling that spread through his body was a heated one, hotter than a blacksmith’s forge, her pronouncement of his name the hammer strike that welded the last rivet of the irrevocable bond between them and made him whole.

His restraint began to crumble, the layers of gentility and propriety dropping away to reveal the primal nature that went along with his primal name as he claimed his mate for the first time, pushing into her carefully but insistently, steadily splitting open her virgin cunt on his massive, inhuman cock. She called out his name again and again as he thrust into her, her voice thick with lust and sharp with pleasure, each call sending a fiery-hot jolt of pleasure up his spine, making him grip her hips tighter in his claws and pound against her with greater abandon.

He chanted her name as well, and never before had she heard anyone pronounce it in such a rough, hungry growl, dripping with shadow and sin. It made her want to drink it from his lips like wine, but she restrained herself from kissing him, so that they might keep both of their mouths free to continue moaning out their names to each other. Instead, she pulled him by the horns to bring his lips close to hers but untouching, letting their names mingle together in their shared breath as he curled himself tighter around her small, soft body.

He felt the mating bond pulling tighter too, just like the tension low in his belly was constricting, bringing him so close to his climax. His frantic pounding began to stutter, and he bared his fangs as he held himself back from release.

“Let go, come for me, mate, come on my cock,” he urged her, and though she was too sheltered to understand the precise meaning of his words, she could sense what they implied as her own pleasure surged toward a beautifully dizzying precipice.

And when she did let go, only a few moments later, she called out his name once more, and the sound of it was so sweet that it shattered him, ecstasy exploding in jet after jet of hot seed into her spasming cunt. Their bodies thrummed with primal energy as they found release in each other for the first time, and that was when he finally kissed her, swallowing up the echo of his name lingering on her lips, sealing his mouth to hers like their souls were sealed together by their new mating bond.

Afterwards, lying in his arms, she stroked his face, marveling at the new sense of knowing she now had of him. “I love your name,” she told him.

His frills trembled with happiness. “I love hearing you say it. You must never repeat it to anyone else,” he reminded her.

Her lips curled into a tender smile of gratitude for the gift he’d given her, and her alone. Her mate. “I never will. All of you is all mine.”

~ 😈🎩 ~

Read all of my Regency monster ficlets and snippets at the tag #my writing.