#you would have had your own mom as a coach probably

[gonzodangerfeels]

Those pesky adverbs

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 5

[chap four] | [all chapters here] | [chap six]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: I'm very excited for this chapter because it's actually one of the scenes that inspired this whole fic! Before I knew what the hell I even wanted to write, I played this idea of a figure skating character over and over again in my head as I built up the story around it. I'm a little behind on writing the next chap, so it may be a slightly longer wait between this and the next one! Hope you all love it!

wc: 4.8k

taglist: @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @em0220 @fromasgardandback @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

Chapter Five

You skated at least four times a week. You’ve done so since you were ten years old, when you decided that you wanted to take figure skating more seriously. Whether or not you had competitions, whether or not you were in the mood for it, you always stuck with your skating routine. With competition season coming up in November, you knew you’d have to start practicing more, putting in longer hours and more days in preparation.

Or maybe not. After all, competing was something that your mom enjoyed, that she encouraged wholeheartedly. Regardless of how much you enjoyed it, it didn’t exactly fit the teenage rebellion thing you had going on right now. Maybe you wouldn’t go to competition this year, maybe you’d skip out on your final season out of pure spite - now that would be cruel. Although a part of you hurt at that idea - because you really did love skating - you reasoned that it was something you had to consider.

Fridays were always very long days for you. While your peers would be set free to roam following the 3pm school bell, you had more obligations for the day. Once you left school, you crammed in as much homework as you could before hitting the ice rink by 4:30 at the latest to get your own practice in. Once that was done, you led a youth skating practice until 7pm, then you tried to squeeze in some more skating time before the hockey team took to the ice at 7:15. After arriving home at 8 o’clock or later, you crammed more homework so you wouldn’t have to deal with it over the weekend, and then by that point you’d be too worn out for anything else, so you generally slept late into the next morning.

This had been your routine for over a year now, ever since your own couch suggested that you needed to get more extracurriculars under your belt for your college applications. She had insisted that your resume would look far more impressive if you showed that you had teaching experience and “leadership potential,” an idea that really appealed to your parents, who were determined for you to get into a good school, maybe even on a figure skating scholarship. So, you ended up taking over the Friday night children’s lessons whether you wanted to or not.

You honestly despised it. You led children age 5 to 7, and they were a constant pain in the ass. You couldn’t raise your voice without one of them crying, you couldn’t leave them to their own devices without someone inevitably ending up hurt. Yet, you stuck with it because you were told to, because the adults around you insisted that you needed to. You couldn’t stand the way your coach would insist that this would help develop your skills, you couldn’t stand how your mother insisted “you’ll look back on this so fondly when you’re older.” These damned kids skating lessons were something else you’d probably drop soon, because you barely tolerated them as is.

While everyone else was at the football game, while Eddie was probably off playing his stupid fantasy game or doing something equally as nerdy, you were here at the ice rink, shouting instructions at children while parents and hockey players watched. Some of the parents had made it clear before that they weren’t fond of your impatient and mean teaching methods, but your coach always seemed to talk them out of pulling their kids from your group. She always argued something about you being the best skating in the county, but you weren’t sure how true that was - sure, you had your fair share of medals, but even with your ego you were pretty sure there were better skaters at your level.

“Come on, slackers, we’ve got five minutes left!” You taunted your group of 11 kids as they skated around the perimeter of the rink as a cool down. You zipped ahead of them, leading the charge as you skated backwards to keep an eye on them.

Many of the older kids had grown used to your abrasive coaching, but you could see that many of the newbies were still frightened of you, your loud voice, and your cold eyes. As a means of excusing your poor teaching style, you always said that skating was a tough sport and they needed to toughen up if they wanted to be any good at it. For how pretty and elegant figure skating could be, you knew from experience that competitive skating could be harsh, so you figured you were helping these kids prepare for it.

Because the Hawkins High hockey team had the rink after your group every Friday, many of them were already sitting on the sidelines, getting their gear ready or watching you work. The cocky part of you enjoyed the attention, but hockey players were stupid, so you rarely gave any of them a chance whenever they tried talking to you. Nonetheless, when you were in a good mood, you enjoyed putting on a bit of a show for them, shooting flirty glances their way or occasionally calling out remarks to them between instructing the kids. Tonight, you were paying them little mind, but that didn’t stop you from looking their way every now and again.

As you led the kids back to the center of the ice to wrap up the lesson, a lot of their parents were also waiting in the bleachers or out in the lobby. While you skated back and forth in front of your little army of children, going over some instructions for their next practice with your coach on Monday, your eyes roamed the bleachers. You gave a wicked grin to the hockey players that watched you, meanwhile you took in the parents with very little regards. It was as you looked over the clusters of parents that you saw a familiar face sitting at the penalty bench, and unintentionally you let your toe pick drag on the ice, which very nearly caused you to trip.

God damn Eddie Munson.

As you glared in his direction, hoping your momentary lack of balance didn’t make you look too stupid, you dismissed the kids before gliding towards the dasher board. Eddie, grinning like an asshole, stood up to meet you as children began to exit the ice. You braced yourself on the rail of the board, eyes narrowed at Eddie who appeared far too amused for your liking.

“What are you doing here?” You ask in lieu of a greeting. Eddie briefly glances over at the kids leaving the ice.

“You’re incredible with children.” He mocked, smiling far too wide for your liking; you narrowed your eyes while wondering just how long he’d been here, “Figured I might find you here.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.” You respond coldly, gaze briefly looking in the direction of the hockey team to find a couple of them watching your interaction. 

“You did say we needed to make plans, figure out how this was going to work,” Eddie started, taking in your red cheeks and slightly damp forehead that developed over the course of your skating lessons.

“I also said we’d talk about it next week.” You glowered a little, not worried if any of the hockey players saw it - maybe they’d simply mistake it for a lovers quarrel. Eddie grinned, holding his arms up as if he were a presenter on some dumb show.

“No time like the present, right?” Your unamused face gave him all the answer he needed, and his expression fell a little in annoyance, “And here I hoped I was being a good fake boyfriend by visiting you at the rink.”

“You’re being too good a fake boyfriend,” You jab.

Now that all the kids were off the ice, you slid towards the open gate; Eddie kept pace with you on the other side of the dasher board, meeting you at the gate and offering you his hand in assistance. You looked between his face and his outstretched hand with a glare, but eventually accepted his help, stepping over the barrier and onto the slightly cushy floor on the other side.

“I told you not tonight because I’m busy.” You walk over to the gym bag you left sitting on the nearest bleachers. As you sat beside it, Eddie shrugged with a carelessness that seemed almost false.

“Then I’ll go.” He answered simply as you removed your skates, “Just thought it might not be a bad idea to get to know you a little better. It’s not gonna be easy to fake date someone who you know nothing about.”

You shot him a harsh look while putting skate guards over your blades. You didn’t want to admit that he was right, but he had a good point, especially since you had already discussed it before. You sighed heavily through your nose, your cold eyes locked on Eddie’s.

“Can’t it wait? I’ve had a long day.”

Eddie studied you for a moment, leaning back against the dasher board before looking around the ice rink. You quickly put some worn sneakers on your feet and stood, picking your bag and turning away with the intention to leave. But Eddie’s gentle grip on your wrist stopped you from going anywhere, causing you to look between his hand and his face. As you two held eye contact, you realized that Eddie could be just as stubborn as you when he wanted; damn, was this going to be difficult.

“Let me buy you dinner - I’m sure you’re starving,” Eddie started, and for a fleeting moment you wondered if he thought your attitude was because you were hangry. You chewed your lower lip, eyes staring critically at Eddie for another few moments before you let out a defeated sigh, allowing your shoulders to relax a little. Considering that it had been nearly eight hours since your lunch break, it might now be a bad idea to eat something.

Eddie’s eyes softened at your silent resignation, the corner of his mouth pulling up. He finally released your wrist, nodding his head in the direction of the lobby, “Come on, you pick.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Your pick ended up being a 24-hour diner downtown. Eddie showed clear confusion when you mentioned it, so you explained that - for whatever reason - the diner had become something of a tradition, where students congregated post-Friday night football into the wee hours of the night. You’d joined that crowd a number of times in the past, but had no more interest in it - what you were interested in was having people see you and Eddie out together.

You knew it would still be at least an hour before the football crowd arrived, but that wasn’t such a bad thing - it gave you and Eddie a bit of time to actually become acquainted, to learn more about each other beyond “ice princess” and “the freak.”

You studied Eddie while sipping on a chocolate shake, waiting for your food to arrive. He stared back at you unabashedly, and you figured you could be locked into this staring contest until the end of time given how stubborn you both could be. As if Eddie knew what you were thinking, he smirked, finally caving as he looked away from you.

“Not to sound cliche,” Eddie scratched the back of his neck, almost as if he were nervous, but you assumed that couldn’t be true, “but… tell me about yourself?”

You smiled at how dumb the question was - that was so cliche. It was as good a starting place as any you figured, but that didn’t make it sound any less silly and forced. You leaned back in your seat, still holding tight to your milkshake as if it were a lifeline.

Putting on your best Miss America voice, you replied, “Well, I’m freshly 18 from Hawkins, Indiana. I love long walks on the beach, snuggling up with a good book, and I hope one day we’ll have world peace.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, although you could tell he was fighting back a grin, “You’re making this very challenging considering that it was your idea.”

You shrug, taking a big gulp of the chocolate shake, “I guess I’m just a challenging person.”

“You guess?” Eddie laughed mockingly at that, “You’re the most challenging I’ve met. So, how about you try relaxing a little or else no one’s going to buy that we’re together.”

You made a face at the near-insult, finally putting down your drink. You leaned your elbows on the table, taking in Eddie’s face for a moment, stubbornly resisting the urge to say anything. Again, he had a good point, not that you wanted to tell him that. Eddie appeared to have an idea as he mirrored your pose.

“Okay, we’ll go back and forth, a question for a question; how’s that?” You nodded, “Right. First question: Why me?”

Your brows furrowed a little in thought, pinning down a good answer while trying to recall what you’ve already told him, “Haven’t I already explained that?”

“Kind of.” Eddie rolled his hand in a motion that basically said “but go on.”

You bit the inside of your cheek for a moment while thinking, “Your reputation. People don’t know you, but your reputation is in the absolute gutter. No better person to turn to than the guy who everyone in the school already hates.”

Eddie nodded in acceptance of the answer, “Okay, your turn.”

You grinned a little, a question already on your lips, “Why’d you agree to it?”

It was something you’d speculated briefly throughout the week, as you thought that your trade offer might not have been a compelling enough reason for Eddie to agree to this stupid plan. And now you could finally get the answer you were looking for.

Eddie silently stared at you in consideration, and again it almost felt like he was able to read your thoughts somehow. Finally, he answered, “Curiosity.”

You raised a brow in question, to which he once more scratched the back of his neck - maybe that actually was a nervous habit, so you took note of it.

“We both know this idea is kinda crazy,” Eddie started, mulling over his thoughts before continuing, “But I wanted to see how it plays out. See if we can actually trick people into believing it. And I wanted to see if you were as awful as I thought you were.”

You balked instantly, an amused huff escaping your mouth, “‘Awful?’ Jesus, you keep acting like I’m the devil or something.”

Eddie made a face while shrugging, not disagreeing with you, “You thought the same about me. So, let’s call it square.”

Food was finally brought to your table, and you had to resist the urge to attack the greasy burger set in front of you; you didn’t need Eddie to see you act like a ravenous gremlin over some food, even if it had been over eight hours since you’d eaten anything. But you nonetheless dug in, albeit with far more control than your empty, growling stomach would have liked.

“Your turn.” You say around a bite of food, causing Eddie to smile in amusement and the unladylike action.

“Hmm…” He leaned forward, scrutinizing you as he contemplated his next question. Self consciously, you wiped at the corner of your mouth just to make sure there wasn’t any stray ketchup or grease sitting there, “Why ice skating?”

“Because it’s better than cheerleading.” You smiled at your own joke before giving a slightly better answer, “I always thought it was pretty. Nothing else to it, unfortunately; no deep story and significance to it.”

“Fine.” Eddie responded almost as if he was disappointed by the mundane answer.

“Why Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Your questions can’t keep being off-shoots of mine.” Eddie laughed a little, and despite yourself it caused you to smile smally as well.

“Says who?”

“Says me,” He responded while pointing at himself, “I get to come up with some of the rules now, remember?”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes with a degree of fondness, which you immediately found strange, so you tried to wipe the look from your face. Nope, you weren’t fond of Eddie Munson, not at all.

You went back to your food, hoping Eddie didn’t catch the amused look on your face. You spoke around another bite of food, “Do you have siblings?”

“None that I know of.” He replied around his own mouthful of food, “But I wouldn’t exactly be surprised if there were any out there.”

You cocked your head a little at the response; it wasn’t so much shocking or sad, rather it was unexpected and different from your own life. You made a mental note to learn more about Eddie’s family, if not tonight then at a later point.

“What’s your plan after graduation?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but then paused - what was your plan now that you were trying to make your own decisions? You hadn’t even considered it. Did you still want to go to college? Where? Studying what? You suddenly realized that you had no true plan for yourself, only the one outlined by your parents, and that realization made you nervous.

“Honest answer: not a fucking clue.” Eddie looked taken aback by the response, so you continued, “My plan before was getting into a good school on a skating scholarship, and studying something completely irrelevant. My parents expect my skating to carry me through life until some good, rich man sweeps me off my feet.”

“But that’s not your plan anymore?”

“That’s another question.” You give him a teasing grin, causing Eddie to roll his eyes, “First, answer me this: If you weren’t stuck in Hawkins, where would you go?”

Eddie grinned with an unexpected eagerness, “LA. The music scene there is insane, and I’d happily sleep on the streets if it meant I had a shot at making my own music.”

Your eyes softened ever so slightly at the unexpected, genuine response - admittedly, you didn’t peg Eddie as the type to have any real goals. But music? That was interesting to you since you weren’t even aware that he played any instruments. You wondered if he was actually any good at it, or if it was some foolish aspiration.

“Now, what’s your plan?” Eddie repeated, smirking at the look on your face - this was one of the few times you didn’t look like a total bitch, so he appreciated it. In fact, you looked relaxed and, dare he say, content; that was certainly unexpected from you.

When you shrugged, he shook his head, leaning forward again, “No, you come up with a plan right now. Don’t base it off what your parents want or what you think sounds like the right answer. What do you want to do with your life once we’re done with this shit hole?”

You contemplated, a mild concern washing over you as you stared at Eddie - what the hell did you want? And why did you suddenly feel so vulnerable because of the question. You had to rip your gaze away from Eddie’s, hardening your expression as you tried to think up an answer that felt right.

“I… I like art, I love clothes,” You started dumbly, glancing at Eddie through your lashes, expecting him to make a face at the lame answer, “I don’t know shit about them in a technical way, but it might be fun for college. Take painting or sewing classes during the day, skate until my feet hurt at night, maybe… I want to be somewhere big and interesting. New York, LA… fuck, even Florida for all I care, I just want out of Hawkins, out of this town.”

“Then I guess we’ll be those high school sweethearts that run off to LA together after graduation, huh?” Eddie smiled widely, and you allowed an amused look to cross your face.

“Oh, I’m sure.” You returned to your food as you tried to come up with a good question for Eddie. An intriguing one came to you, so you asked before you could second guess it, “How do you expect your fake girlfriend to act?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed; it didn’t appear to be due to him misunderstanding the question, but rather that it was unexpected; he even looked maybe hesitant to answer it. Again, he scratched his neck.

You lean forward a little, looking at him seriously, “Give me a good answer, okay? We’re just gonna keep going in circles otherwise.”

Eddie shrugged, “Maybe I don’t have any expectations.”

“Then come up with some.” You immediately counter, prodding the same way he had about your plans for the future. Eddie stared at you with scrutiny while chewing the inside of his lip, as if he didn’t want to come up with a response to the question. You waited, making a mock sweet face at him while you chowed down on your fries. You were going to demand an answer until he gave you one.

“Well, going off the rules you already established,” He made a bit of a face as if to mock the oh-so-sacred fake dating rules, “Aside from playing nice in front of others, it might be helpful if you were less stubborn; you’re like a damn bull.”

You gave him a joshing smile right back, “Fair. Is that it?”

Eddie quickly shook his finger; now it was just a back-and-forth game of you mocking one another, “Ah, that’s another question.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You rolled your eyes with a short laugh, “That is not another question.”

Eddie gave a fake look of apology, shrugging again, “Unfortunately, it is.”

You threw a french fry at him, which lamely hit his chest then landed in his lap. As he laughed and picked it up, you found yourself smiling fondly again, and you quickly tried to shake off the expression.

At that moment, the bell above the front door chimed, and immediately the diner was filled with rambunctious conversation. Your heart jumped a little, realizing the time, and you briefly glanced in the direction of the door; the group that had entered wasn’t your friends, although you recognized them. You turned your attention back to Eddie, who gave you another grin.

“Showtime.” He stated simply, and then a thought appeared to cross his mind, “You want another expectation? Tell me if anything I do is too much, but otherwise let me do what I do - you don’t need to be in control all the time.”

“Don’t I, though?” You countered haughtily, which was met by a flash of seriousness across Eddie’s eyes.

“No, you don’t. I know what I’m doing, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, not entirely convinced that he did, in fact, know what he was doing. Considering that you’d never seen him even interact with a girl before, you weren’t sure if he knew the first thing about dating or romance. But despite your doubts, you relented, relaxing your shoulders as if to show you were relinquishing some control.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes nonetheless, forever obstinate as you mocked, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like something, but otherwise I’ll let you do what you do.”

“Was that so hard?” Eddie replied with a condescending smirk. You sneered before relaxing your face, knowing your friends were bound to appear any minute now.

As you stole another glance at the door, you suddenly felt Eddie’s fingers graze the back of your hand, drawing your attention back to him with a confused little knot between your brows. He held your gaze as if to make a point, as if to remind you of the conversation you just had, that he knew what he was doing. His hand simply sat on top of yours, your fingers ever so slightly lacing together - he raised his brows as if to dare you to pull away from him. You had to resist the urge to narrow your eyes at him and snatch your hand away, and in turn Eddie gave you a cocky grin before continuing to eat with his free hand.

Eventually, your friends appeared, although they didn’t notice you at first. They were all so full of energy as they excitedly spoke to each other, descending upon a few tables in the middle of the diner and pushing them together. The staff were used to it, although you knew from experience that they nonetheless hated it; you guys were always disruptive to the other patrons, and you figured that was never going to change.

You tried your best not to stare, but your eyes kept trailing over, kept studying the excited faces of the people you considered friends only a couple of weeks ago. After your eyes had drifted over for the umpteenth time, you felt Eddie lightly squeeze your fingers, causing you to unintentionally sneer at how strange it was to maintain this physical contact with him.

“Stop staring,” He instructed when you looked back at him.

With a quarrelsome look in your eyes, you did as Eddie told you, returning your attention to the half eaten burger on your plate, “Talk to me about something, then.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t care, just talk so I can pretend to be interested.”

Eddie looked mildly put off by that, and you realized that you’d taken your customary mean tone with him. You couldn’t seem to help yourself with your former cohorts nearby, it was as if their energy was rubbing off on you.

“You know what I’m going to talk about,” Eddie taunted with a wide grin.

Your face fell in realization, “Please not Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I’m gonna do it.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“So, there’s this character, Kas, who has really interesting lore--”

You threw another fry at Eddie, and at that same moment, you felt someone come up alongside your table. You both look up to see Amelia there with a critical look on her face; your gaze drifts past her, noticing that a few people from her table were also looking at you and Eddie.

You met Amelia’s eyes again, giving her a wide, false smile, “Small world.”

Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms, “Yeah, I’m sure you just completely forgot we always come here after games.”

“Maybe she just wanted to see her dear friends.” Eddie chimed in mockingly, once again surprising you with his willingness to instigate confrontation. You laughed as a dumbfounded look crossed Amelia’s at his remark.

“I don’t know what the hell she sees in you.” Amelia snarked with a glare before turning her gaze back to you, “And I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but it’s already getting pretty old.”

You shrug with exaggerated nonchalance, “Sometimes a girl just needs a bit of a change every now and then, you know?”

Amelia didn’t look convinced as she rolled her eyes with a dramatic sigh, “Yeah, well, this ��change’ doesn’t suit you at all.”

Before you could respond with another quip, Amelia spun on her heel and briskly returned to her table. By that point, everyone there was watching and awaiting Amelia’s return, quickly huddling together to whisper conspiratorially once she sat down.

You and Eddie shared an amused glance; he went back to poking at his food as your gaze trailed back to Amelia and company. You happened to lock eyes with Duncan, who stared at you with harsh scrutiny, as if he wasn’t buying this thing between you and Eddie in the slightest. You gave Duncan a mocking while, starting to wave before flipping him off, causing Eddie to snort and choke on his food. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he hit his chest a couple of times, trying to clear his throat. The sound of such a genuine laugh escaping you was absolutely foreign to Eddie, but he decided it was a sound he enjoyed, even if it was at his expense; he made a mental note that he had to find ways to make you laugh more that didn’t involve him choking.

“You could’ve killed me.” Eddie croaked before laughing himself, his smile wide.

“You’re fine.” You teased, squeezing his fingers while giving him a false pout of sympathy, “You big baby.”

Eddie rolled his eyes in amusement, digging his wallet out while finally relinquishing the grip he had on your hand, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He tossed money onto the table and stood, offering his hand to you again. You quickly snagged one last fry before accepting Eddie’s hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He once again laced his fingers with yours as he led you through the crowded diner, and you had to fight back the desire to cringe in confusion at it. The both of you eyed the crowd of Hawkins High’s elite as they watched you back critically.

Once outside the diner, Eddie paused in front of one of the large windows and pulled a ridiculous face at the kids still watching you; he quickly tugged your arm, leading you back towards the van as you laughed again at his antics.

[meazalykov]

independent

sister!trinity rodman x rodman!reader

part one - part two here

summary: even though you're sisters, you might have to let her go

warnings: angst, swearing, childhood trauma mentions

there is no way that you would reject the offer your agent sent you.

at twenty one years old, barcelona feminine offered you a 3 year contract to play at their club as a defender.

for many years while growing up, you were obsessed with barcelona and the atmosphere all of games had.

you idolized messi, before idolizing alexia putellas when barcelona's women's team started putting themselves on the map.

there is no way that you will say no to barcelona.

as of right now, you were with washington spirit. the nwsl club and the catalan club had ties together, so you shouldn't be surprised that barcelona saw you-- spirit's best defender-- before anyone else in america.

when it comes to transfers and talks of contracts, you weren't allowed to disclose the details with anyone.

even with your own sister, trinity.

trinity is your best friend, and your fraternal twin. you were 9 minutes younger than her and stayed attached to her hip.

its not like trinity didn't like it, she loved staying by your side. when you asked your mom to start playing soccer at the age of 4-- a shock considering that your father is one of the basketball legends in the NBA-- trinity joined with you.

now, many years later, the both of you were playing in the NWSL and play for the USWNT. you had the speed, strength, and determination that made you an unstoppable defender while trinity's speed, attitude, and dribbles made her an unstoppable forward.

there were many obstacles that you had to go through to get here.

emotionally, you weren't okay while growing up. missing your father who happened to be very famous in the sports world took a toll on you for a long time.

sometimes, you wondered if he would've came by to see you, your sister, and your brother more if you'd decided to pursue a professional career in basketball instead.

trinity pretended that the absence didn't affect her, as she would comfort you every time you were upset about your father not showing up to the games to see you both.

you knew deep down that it did affect your twin, as she would greet mom and then search the crowd to see if she can find dad anywhere after.

another obstacle was trying to overachieve in soccer, to the point where it would take a toll on your body most days.

having a father who is famous for his NBA career in the 90s, you didn't want people to think that you were "buying" your way into higher spots on the teams. you wanted to prove that you had talent, not nepotism.

after solcal blues, you nearly played soccer for UCLA while trinity wanted to follow DJ to washington state. the both of you had major anxiety about splitting apart from each other-- wondering if the both of you would survive without seeing each other everyday.

however, COVID-19 decided to keep you both together. the quarantine solidified the codependency you shared with trinity.

so, telling trinity that you'll be moving clubs scared you. you didn't know how she'd react.

she would probably see if she could switch clubs with you. you frowned at the idea, knowing that barcelona couldn't offer her a contract, they have too many forwards already.

since you said yes to the catalan club, you'll be in another country while trinity stays in DC-- unless she went to another club in europe to be closer to you.

now, you'll have to tell her before news pages leak the contract deal.

"trin?" you called out inside of your shared apartment with her. you assumed she'd be in the living room, so you walked out of your bedroom to head to there.

"hey, you're awake!" trinity said as you sat down on the couch beside her.

she wasn't smiling, in fact, she sounded like she was waiting for you to wake up to tell you something.

"trin I gotta talk to you about something."

"okay-- coach said you wouldn't be in training or the next game, I was surprised because you didn't tell me that." trinity chuckles as you frowned.

little did she know, the last game with spirit was your last.

"I'm sorry--- I just wanted to talk to you about something important."

she looked at you, waiting for you to continue as you looked down at your sweaty palms.

"I'm leaving." you mumbled.

trinity's eyebrows flared together.

"what do you mean?" she asks.

"another club offered me a contract, and I feel like that would be best for my career." you say.

trinity sighed, in relief, un-crossing her arms before laying her feet out on the coffee table.

"oh okay, you'll still be in the country so I can visit you. maybe we will even clash-"

the older twin had experienced distance with you before. you were gonna play in los angeles while she went to washington state with DJ--- however, she didn't know how far she would be from you.

"trin." you stop her.

trinity read the facial expression on your face. you looked sad, shaking your head slowly as you kept rubbing your hands together-- wondering if this was the end to the close bond you shared with your sister.

"you're going-- overseas?" she mumbled.

trinity is your personal mind-reader, almost, she could tell what you were thinking based off of your facial expressions and the current situation.

"I couldn't say no to barcelona." you say, crossing your arms as you looked away from trinity-- towards the turned off television.

the silence between you and trinity grew heavier, the tension almost palpable. she didn't say anything immediately after, which scared you.

you look over to see that she is looking right at you.

you could see the hurt in her eyes, but there was something else there too—anger.

she finally pulled her hand away from the resting position on her lap, standing up abruptly.

"so, that's it? you're just going to leave?" trinity's voice was sharp, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"what happened to communication? why were you so secretive about this? weren't we supposed to be into soccer together, y/n? we always said we'd have each others backs, no matter what. and now you're running off to barcelona like its not a big deal."

"it is a big deal," you shot back, standing up to face her.

"but this is my career we're talking about, trin. i can't pass up an opportunity like this just because it's hard. you know how much this means to me. YOU know how much I grew up loving barcelona."

"and what about me?" trinity demanded, her voice rising.

"do i mean anything to you? because it sure doesn't feel like it right now. you didn't even talk to me about it before making your decision. you just decided on your own, like me or DJ don't even matter to you." trinity rubs her left temple with her finger, overwhelmed and frustrated at your decision.

"DJ? he doesn't even live in DC!" you protest.

"at least he will be in the fucking country!" trinity snaps.

"that's not fucking fair trinity," you argued, frustration creeping into your own voice.

you never said trinity's name fully, always calling her trin.

"of course you matter to me, but this is my life! i have to do what's best for me, and that means taking this chance. you would do the same if you were in my shoes." you stood up, just five feet in front of her standing body.

"you really don't get it, do you? it's not just about you, y/n. we were supposed to be a duo, and now you're breaking that up. you're leaving your own twin behind, and you don't even care because you want to prioritize your career over that." trinity let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head.

"of course i care!" you shouted, feeling your emotions getting the best of you. "but i can't let that stop me from going after what I want, especially since dad stopped coming around so much before we grew up. i need this, trin. if you can't understand that, if you can't be happy for me, if you want to stay at the same club for your whole career-- then maybe you need to let me go."

the words hung in the air like a bomb that had just gone off. trinity's face twisted in hurt and disbelief, her eyes narrowing as she stared at you.

"let you go? are you serious right now? you're the one who's leaving, y/n-- just like dad did. you're the one who’s letting go!"

"i'm not giving up on us!" you insisted, your voice trembling with the overwhelming process of your feelings. "but if you can't support me like a twin sister would… then yeah, maybe you need to let me go."

trinity stared at you, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she processed your words.

for a moment, you thought she might say something—anything—to bridge the gap that had opened between you. but instead, she just shook her head, tears filling her eyes.

"fine," she said, her voice breaking as she relaxed her arms in defeat.

"go. do what you have to do. but don't expect me to be here waiting when you realize that the grass isn't greener on the other side."

with that, trinity turned on her heel and stormed out of the apartment, leaving you standing there. you flinched when she slammed the door shut, probably scaring your neighbors in the process.

you wanted to run after her, to take back everything you'd said, take back your contract with barcelona and stay in washington-- but you knew it was too late for that.

the rift between you and your lifetime companion had been torn wide open, and there was no going back now.

all you could do was hope that, in time, she would come to understand why you had to do this—why you had to follow your own path and break your dependency from her, even if it meant leaving her behind.

for now, the only thing you could do was stand firm in your decision and hope that your dream didn't cost you the most important person in your life.

part two

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

[illvmii]

Home For The Weekend.

DBF!Miguel x FEM!Reader, NSFW!! READ WITH CAUTION!!

TAGS: DBF!Miguel, Nsfw, a little fluff ig, pining Miguel, I gave you good parents because you deserve it, oral (fem receiving), praise, p in v, unprotected (use protection gang), a little exhibisionism (people are in the house), Miguel is pretty soft in this one, LMK if I forgot anything

A/N: Because I had to swap accounts and all that, I decided to write smut as a sorry (cause I know that’s what most Miguel fans want LMFAO) so here you go!! It’s Dad’s best friend cause GODDD I love DBF Miguel lemme tell ya. Also not proof read (I’m really fucking tired rn I’ll proof read tmr probably)

You’ve been away from home for a good while at this point. Your college really wasn’t all that far away, but you’ve been so freaking busy it’s unbelievable. You called your parents at least three times a week, even at that point you were failing to do so. You were completely overwhelmed and it was awful.

But finally, finally you had a weekend where you were free. You didn’t have anything to do, so you decided to drive home and spend the weekend there. You knew your parents really missed you, so it was the best choice for all of you (plus you’d been killing to taste some of your moms cooking once again).

You had called your father to let him and your mom know you were coming, but were told a very interesting surprise. It was for sure a welcome one, though. Your father’s best bud, Miguel O’Hara, was staying with your parents for a week. Apparently the man’s house got termites which fucking blew chunks for him. But for you… well, aren’t you just lucky?

That man is HOT! We all know it, he’s absolutely stunning. So when you figured you’d be in the same house as him for a whole weekend, your entire stay seemed to get much more interesting.

Of course it was a ‘Look don’t touch’ scenario, you couldn’t even imagine the hell that would let loose if you made a hit on your dad’s best friend. You knew your father and Miguel were super close, they have been since you were a little girl. Miguel and your pops met when you were in third grade, because you were on your schools little soccer team. Miguel was the coach, since his own daughter Gabriella was on it.

You and Gabi actually became pretty good friends, still are to this day. She’s fun to be around and you text her whenever you have the chance. Of course she doesn’t know about the absolutely disgusting thoughts you have about her father on the lonelier nights. You think nobody but you really needs to know those. God forbid if your dad found out.

You haven’t seen Miguel in… what was it? Nearly three years at this point. He didn’t come around the house much after you turned 19 for some reason. Your dad and him always hung out at bars and such. So you haven’t seen him in a long time. The barbecues Miguel always had once a month were strangely on days you had told your dad you weren’t available, either. It’s very strange. You never have had the best of luck with men, so you just assume god is playing a cruel trick on you.

You eventually pulled into your childhood home driveway, the second you entered your mom pulls you to the side and presses kisses all over your face.

“Oh my gosh! It feels I haven’t seen my baby girl in ages! How have you been, honey?!”

Pressing a kiss to her cheek, you smile, “Been good. Busy, as I’ve said on our calls. But finally got some free time!”

Your mother grinned and pulled you into a hug, “I’m so glad your home, sweetheart. The house just isn’t the same without you here.”

“Dad already getting on your nerves, huh?” You snicker, hugging her back tightly.

Your mom chuckles and shakes her head, “He’s still the same ol’ grump. You should have heard him and Miguel when the soccer game was on… my goodness I was worried we were going to get a noise complaint.”

“Are they really that bad? Geez. I know Dad is bad, can’t imagine two of them.”

Your mother chuckles, “Your father is in the living room. Go say hi, hes been waiting for you all day.”

You give her a nod and walk off to the living room to greet your dad. He’s on the couch, so you plop down next to him. “Hey, Dad. How’s it hanging?”

He turns to look at you and bumps your shoulder with his, “There you are, squirt. Where you been for so long, huh? Outgrown us regular people now you’re a big shot at college?”

You smirk at his tease, “Don’t worry. I won’t forget about you. Least not yet.”

He flicks your forehead, chuckling to himself.

“Miguel is out in the pool. You should go say hi.”

Your face immediately heats up. He’s in the god damn pool?! With probably little shorts? Oh god…

You nod and stand from the couch and make your way to the pool. You slide the glass door to the patio open and dear god.

You see Miguel, hes swimming laps in the big pool. As long as you’ve known him, he’s worked out a bunch. No wonder he’s so fucking buff.

Stepping down into the patio area, you send him a wave, “Hey, Mr. O’Hara?”

He pauses his swimming and looks up at you. He flashes a smile, “My god, that you, pequeña?”

Miguel shakes his head to get the excess water out, swimming too the stairs of the pool to get out. You see now that yes, he is in little swim trunks.

He grabs his towel to wipe his extremely chiseled chest down. He smiles at you as he does, “How have you been, chica? I haven’t seen you for a while. Your dad sends me photos of you sometimes, but they really didn’t show off how much you’ve grown.”

You blush as he runs his eyes over you to really take in your growth. “I’ve been okay. College is keeping me busy. How about you? I’ve heard your house has termites.”

Miguel let’s out a loud groan, “Mhm. I could hear them in the walls at night, it was hell. At least they’re getting taken care of now, ‘Eh?”

“Yeah. I could imagine that would be hell,” You add on, not helping the conversation at all. You really couldn’t focus on conversing well. The man who has plagued your mind since you hit puberty is standing right in front of you, wet and in tiny shorts.

Miguel fully dries himself off, “I’ll go in and change, alright? Then we can talk some more.”

He walks off and you follow behind. You sit next to your dad in the living room and patiently (not at all patiently) wait for ‘Mr. O’Hara’.

Miguel walks into the living room wearing some loose shorts and a white t-shirt. He sits on a free chair and looks to your dad, “Man, look how big your girl is now! Can’t even believe it. Can’t believe how big my Gabi is, either.”

Your dad chuckles and groans, “I know, right? Time really flies when you get old.”

Miguel shoots you a smile, “I’m not that old, am I, cariño?”

You shake your head quickly, “Of course not.”

Your father chuckles, “You don’t gotta lie to Miguel, honey! Let him have it.”

Miguel leans forward to smack your father’s shoulder, “Ay! You aren’t young yourself.”

Your father and Miguel banter back and forth for a bit, before the soccer game starts out. They shut up immediately to watch, though once the plays start happening they shout at the TV like mad men. You chuckle whenever they do. It brought back memories of you and Gabriella having a play date and hearing them go nuts over the match in the other room.

After the match, it was dinner time, and holy fuck did it smell good. Your mother knew how to cook man, let me tell you.

You were sat in between your mom and Miguel. Your dad and the hunk were talking about the game, while your mother asked you questions about how college was going. You told her all about it, from the gossip to how the vending machine in the lobby stopped working again, which pissed you off to no end.

While you were talking and ranting about “those damn machines”, you felt a thigh press against yours. You glance down, seeing it was Miguel’s. Strange, because you didn’t remember his chair being this close. You shrug it off and keep talking to your mom.

After dinner you were stuffed, so you head up to your bedroom for the night. You were currently sitting on your old bed, snuggled up all nice and cozy while watching some YouTube. That was until the door creaked open. You figured your mom had done your laundry like the lovely lady she is, but indeed it was Miguel.

He stepped into the room with a soft smile, closing the door behind him, “Hey, pequeña.”

You sit up immediately at the sight of him, plucking your earbuds from your ears, “Hey, Mr. O’Hara. What do you need?”

Miguel sits himself on the edge of the bed, “You can just call me Miguel, sweetheart. Mr. O’Hara makes me feel ancient.”

“Alright, Miguel.” You smile, which makes him chuckle. He looks up at you and speaks;

“We haven’t had much time to speak one on one. I just wanted to catch up with you, hadn’t seen you in a while.”

You tilt your head endearingly, “Yeah, it has been a while. College has kept me from coming home, plus you and dad don’t hang out around the house as much as you used to.”

Miguel’s face actually pinks a little at the statement, to your bewilderment. He scratches his head, “Yeah. Just gettin’ out on the town as you kids say makes us feel young, I guess.”

Cuddling your blankets a bit closer to you, you grin at him, “You really aren’t that old. You had Gabriella decently young, right?”

“I guess so,” He shrugs, “It feels like forever ago, yet also yesterday. Can’t believe my flor pequeña is in college now.”

You nod, “Oh yeah, I can’t believe we’re in college either. Gabriella texts me all about her college days. She rants about her boyfriend constantly, she seems to really like him.”

Miguel groans, “Don’t even get me started on that boy. He is not worth my daughter, not even a little.”

You giggle at his protective nature. You’re positive that no matter who Gabriella dates, Miguel will never deem them as good enough for his daughter.

Miguel looks into your eyes, “So, you got a boyfriend, niña?”

“Oh, no. I haven’t really met the right person,” Which was a total lie, by the way. You’ve gone on dates and met super nice guys, but in your head you constantly compared them to your first crush ever, Miguel. They never shaped up, so it never went anywhere.

His eyes widen, “Really? You’re so beautiful now, I’d figure you’d have tons of boys chasing you.”

The statement makes you blush fiercely, “Ah, no.”

Miguel lets out a thoughtful sigh, “You really have grown into a lovely young woman, you know.”

You blush even harder, “Thank you, Mr. O’Hara.”

He places a hand on yours with a chuckle, “I told you, it’s Miguel.”

“Right. Sorry. Sorry,” You take some deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. Miguel sees this and smiles.

“Why so flustered, cariño? Is it because I called you beautiful?”

You end up covering your face to hide said blush from him. Geez, your heart could not take this right now. You were dressed in some baggy Spider-Man pajamas, yet he is calling you beautiful?

“I-I’m not…”

You can’t believe you’re stuttering. The things this man does to you is insane.

Miguel reached a hand forward to take your hands away from your face. He doesn’t remove it, though. He rests it on your cheek.

“Do you want to know why I stopped coming around your house?”

You nod, staring into his chocolate brown eyes.

“It’s because of your 19th birthday. Do you remember it?”

You think back to those years ago. It was a pretty fun party. You got a bunch of friends and family over and swam in your pool. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but just a fun time.

“Yeah. What about it? Did I do something?”

He chuckles and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, “Nah. It’s just me. You… that day, do you remember what your swimsuit looked like?”

You think back again and blush. Not one of your smartest moments, buying a white swimsuit. It looked cute online, the thought of that it was supposed to go in water and get wet not really cementing itself in your head.

“Yeah…”

He nods and chuckles, “I saw you step out of the pool, and rushed over with a towel to cover you up. Remember? Sure, it was because I didn’t want you to expose yourself like that. However, I had a selfish reason.”

You look up and tilt your head a little.

“I didn’t want anyone else to see that part of you.”

“Huh?” Your brows furrow.

He smirks, “I was confused by the thought, too. I left right after the party and went to my house. I figured I’d stop having such strange thoughts after a day… but amor, I haven’t stopped thinking about you once.”

Your eyes widen, “Wh- Huh?”

“You’re so beautiful, I don’t think you understand. You grew into this woman who I admire, not just for your looks. You’re wonderful, absolutely wonderful. You’re kind, you’re thoughtful, you’re funny, you’re perfect. I can’t get you out of my damn head.”

You can’t manage to speak at this point. You stare up at the man in shock as he moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck.

“Please, let me kiss you, niña,” He basically begs, his eyes look full of desperation, “I’ve wanted to do it for years.”

You manage a tiny nod, so he rushes forward to kiss your lips. He holds you very close against him and kisses you hard. He lets out a groan at the contact. His tongue prods at your lips after a while and who are you to refuse such a man? You let him in, letting out a little groan of your own when he explores you.

After what felt like too short, you have to pull away to catch your breath. He doesn’t stop being on you, though. When you pant, he moves to kiss your jaw and neck.

You let out a little groan, “M-Miguel…”

“No good?” He speaks between kisses, “I’ve wanted to touch you for years, you don’t understand…”

You let out a little whimper, a god damn whimper.

“Please, let me touch you. Fuck, please,” He begs again. You manage a small nod once again. He dives back in to keep kissing your neck.

You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His hands move downwards towards your shirt. He tugs it over your head and moans. His hands immediately reach down to squeeze your tits, and you have to cover your mouth to keep your moans in.

He mumbles out a soft “Fuck…” when he uses his thumbs to glide over your nipples. After a few seconds, he leans down to press kisses all over your soft breasts. He still uses his hands to softly prod at them.

You let out a low whine and he looks up at you, “Be quiet, my girl. Can’t have anyone hearing you.”

You nod and keep covering your mouth as he leans down to keep pressing soft kisses to your chest. After a few moments, he tugs at your bottoms and looks up at you. You nod embarrassingly, and he takes them and your underpants off in one fell swoop.

You hear him audibly choke a breath, which makes you blush more. He manhandles you so your thighs rest on his shoulders, and just goes to town.

You let out a loud yelp when his tongue presses against your clit, so he reaches down and puts his fingers in your mouth to silence you. He keeps his mouth going, sucking on the bud to bring you pleasure.

Miguel pulls back with a long breath, “Tastes so good…”

You whimper against his fingers when he leans down to insert his tongue in you. You cry out as he holds nothing back, forcefully having his way with you.

His one hand that isn’t in your mouth is softly caressing your thigh, which is driving you crazy in its own right. It feels like everywhere he touches you is pure heaven.

Though that one hand leaves after a moment, instead he moves to insert a finger in you. You clamp down on his fingers, which makes him chuckle.

“Feel that good?”

Against his hand, you mumble, “Fingers so thick…”

He smirks and curls his index finger, making your hips buck up and you let out another whine. He can softly hear you beg for more.

He complies, of course. Hes waited for this for years, no way he won’t give his girl everything she wants.

He inserts another finger, moving them around a little until he eventually finds your most sensitive spot. He presses the pad of his fingers up against it suddenly, making you jerk and squirm around.

His mouth dives back down to suck on your clit, which drives you absolutely insane. His fingers in both your mouth and inside you, as well as his skilled mouth was far too much for one woman to handle.

Miguel looks over at one of the thighs placed on his shoulder, seeing it shiver and shake. He breaks away briefly, “Are you close already, amor? You’re so sensitive for me. Have you been wanting my touch too?”

You nod frantically when he lowers his head to your clit again. You cry out, “Uh-Huh! Y-You were my first crush!” Your words were mumbled against his fingers, but he understood them just fine.

He sucks on your clit hard and curls his fingers at the same time, which causes you to let out a moan and your thighs shake more. He breaks away,

“Look at me when you come. Look into my eyes as I make you come. You understand?”

You nod and keep eye contact with him as he inserts a third finger, pressing over and over to your g-spot. He uses his tongue to swirl around your inflated bud at the same time.

His gaze, his mouth, his fingers, it was all far too much. After one harsh suck, you came with a muffled shout.

Miguel drank it all up immediately, seemingly absolutely satisfied to be covered in your juices.

He lets you catch your breath and removes his fingers from your mouth. He also lowers your hips back to the bed, being delicate as he does so he doesn’t hurt you. You were panting very harshly, still coming down from your high.

Everything was a bit fuzzy at the moment. Though you refocused a few seconds later- holy shit.

His shorts have been discarded, along with his shirt. He was naked just as you were, and god damn was he big.

He leans down to press a kiss to your stomach, “You think you can go again? Can you take me, pretty girl?”

You try and speak only to realize that you, in fact, can’t. You settle for a thumbs up, which just makes him laugh softly.

He gives you a few more seconds before aligning himself up with your pretty pussy, pushing himself in agonizingly slow.

You let out another moan, so he quickly puts his fingers in your mouth again to keep you quiet. He really, really did not need your parents who were down in the living room to hear this.

He kept pushing himself in, holding his own groans back. He’d used his hand and imagined how you’d feel in the past, but it was nothing like this. This was perfect.

Once he was in as far as he could go, he stopped and let you get comfortable. Of course it was a battle for him, he was fighting his primal instincts to just take your hard and fast.

You keep letting out the most adorable little whimpers, which even though he’s currently fucking you, make Miguel’s heart melt.

You hum against his fingers, “Ready…”

He nods and begins to move very slowly. He focuses on your face as he watches it contort and squeeze with his movements. You were so pretty when you were experiencing such pleasure, he thought.

He whispers, “Good job, pequeña. Such a good girl for me.”

The praise makes you bite down on his fingers a little. Your hands travel upwards to scratch on his back, too. It was taking all your willpower to not be loud.

He moves a little faster, leaning down to kiss you as he does. He keeps mumbling “My pretty girl” And “So perfect, just for me” as he increases his speed.

He knows he isn’t going to last long. He’s been dreaming about you for years at this point.

He begins to sweat as his hips snap against yours. His free hand moves down to rub on your already abused clit. You grunt on his fingers, pursing your lips against them.

“You gonna come for me again, amor? Come on my cock. Can you do that for me?” He speaks very softly. Both to keep it down, but to also be intimate with you.

You breathe heavily as you feel him pound into you. You can feel tears brimming at your eyes from the sensation.

He licks his thumb and places it back down on your clit, rubbing circles over and over again. At the same time, his hips were slamming against yours. Soon enough, you reached a second orgasm. He let out a moan that was nearly too loud when you did. The sensation was his end, because a few thrusts later he pulled out and came on your stomach.

You and him sat there, panting like you’d just ran a damn marathon. Though after a few minutes, Miguel stands and walks over to your nightstand to get the wipes there. He begins to wipe you of his cum and your sweat, cleaning you off so you can sleep comfortably.

You were so fucking exhausted it was insane. You could barely register as he carefully slid your pajamas back onto you, then changed back into his own clothes.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, “If I could sleep in here, I would.”

“Mhm…” You mumble, a little upset he wouldn’t be cuddling you to sleep. But you obviously understood his reasoning.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips,

“Let’s do this again sometime, pequeña.”

Hope you enjoyed you rabid Miguel fans!! Feedback is always welcome. I used spanishdict so please correct any mistakes you see. Reqs open too!!

This was my first time posting anything NSFW on any site ever so I’m sorry if it’s bad LOL

Don’t repost or claim as or own and all that stuff please!! ❤️❤️

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is craving more alone time with you, but his work schedule is going to make that difficult. And when Danny comes to tee ball practice and makes Everett cry, Bradley lets you know that he would be so much better. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley had a long night. He had to jerk off two times before he could fall asleep, and even then, he kept dreaming you were with him. He woke up, his body searching for you in his bed before he convinced himself you really had gone inside your own house. 

When he had to get up to shower before the tee ball game, he felt like he had barely slept, but at least he'd be able to see you again in a few hours. 

When he checked the time on his phone, he saw you had sent him a picture of you all snuggled up in your bed. You looked beautiful without any makeup on as sunlight lit up the bare skin of your shoulders, and he was texting you back right away. 

Kitten, what did you wear to bed?

He forced himself to get up and head to his bathroom. As he was stepping into the shower, you wrote back.

Nothing. Kittens don't wear pajamas.

He couldn't write back. He'd never get himself in order if he did. But when he saw you and Everett arrive at the field, he couldn't help thinking that this whole thing would have been made better if he had slept over with you last night. He could have made pancakes for breakfast, and the three of you could have come to the game in his Bronco. 

"Hi, Coach," you called to him with that little wave, and he knew he wasn't going to get enough of you. Especially not since he learned about all the little noises you make when you come apart in his lap.

"Kitten," he muttered, squeezing Everett's shoulder and sending him over to Bob to warm up. You were smirking up at him. "Where do you stand on me kissing you right now?"

"Oh," you gasped, and Bradley watched you glance around to see Sandra and all the other moms were nearby. "I..."

"It's fine," he whispered. "Just know that I want to, okay?"

You nodded up at him before he turned toward the game that was about to start. 

It turns out the Tiny Eagles were indestructible up to this point. They beat the Tiny Falcons by five runs, and Everett scored twice. Bradley smiled when he turned to you both times to find you cheering for your son. You looked even more excited than you had when you had managed to hit some balls at the batting cages. 

When the game ended and the kids started to disperse, heading toward the bleachers, Bob made his way over to Bradley. 

"Great job, head coach," Bradley told him, shaking his arm and making him smile. "Undefeated after three games."

Bob nodded, blushing a soft shade of pink. "I think you're a better coach than you're giving yourself credit for. The kids love you."

Bradley's eyes caught on Everett as you knelt down to help him switch his shoes. "I'm having fun."

Bob followed his gaze and mumbled, "Do you know if Molly's coming to another practice or anything?"

Bradley had to reel in his desire to smirk. "You want me to ask Team Mom if she'll invite her sister again?"

Bob's blue eyes lit up. "Would you? I mean... I'll probably just chicken out again, but I want to ask her for her phone number next time I see her."

"Well, you should. According to her sister, Molly thinks you're hot." Bradley watched Bob's face turn from pink to bright red as he sputtered before turning and walking away.

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

You watched Bradley head your way, getting a high five from Everett. "You two sticking around? Or am I walking you to your car?"

More than anything you wanted to get to spend more time with him this weekend. You had to run Everett to a birthday party this afternoon, and tomorrow you had a family function. Both were things you would have invited him to tag along to if you had been dating him for a while. 

"Busy weekend, Coach," you told him, running your fingers along the back of his hand. "Walk us up?"

You watched him crouch down so Everett could get a piggyback ride, and you laughed at the two of them in their matching blue jerseys and hats. "That's adorable," you told them, running a few steps ahead to take a picture. One that would probably make your heart melt every time you looked at it, but that was okay. 

"Send it to me?" Bradley asked, and you texted it to both him and Molly. 

You listened to Everett ask Bradley when he could go to the park again, eager to see that fastball in action. "I'll talk to your mom, okay? Figure out a good time?"

"Okay, Coach," Everett replied with a bright smile, one you never saw on his face on the rare occasion that Danny was around.

"And now I have a question for you," Bradley told you as you approached your car. "A favor, really."

"Yes, Coach?" you asked, smiling innocently at him. Last night you rode his thigh until you came in your jeans. Maybe he was right; maybe you did love to tease him. 

You listened to him clear his throat. "Can you get Aunt Molly to come to another game? Or a practice? Please?"

You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. "Don't tell me you're going to bring her more flowers?"

Bradley snorted and looked at you like you had two heads. "I'm not asking for me, Kitten. Bob's jonesing hard for Molly."

"Oh." Your first response was immediately embarrassing now. You already knew Bob had a thing for your sister, and now you sounded like an idiot. You watched Bradley set Everett down and open the car door for him. 

"See you on Monday, kiddo." Everett gave him a high five before Bradley closed the door. Then he focused all of his attention on you. "Tell me you're not jealous, Kitten."

"No," you whispered. "And I already know Bob likes her. But Danny used to hit on Molly all the time, and I'm sorry, I just... I'm sorry."

Bradley was frozen, a look of disgust on his face. "Your ex husband used to hit on your sister? Are you joking right now?"

You shook your head. "He used to hit on everyone. I couldn't even have girl friends around. I could barely spend time with Molly. She hates him so much, I thought she was going to hit him at times."

"Kitten," he whispered, and he started to reach for you before he stopped. But before his hand could drop down to his side, you caught it. You had basically told him earlier that you didn't want him to kiss you in public, but now you were pulling him closer. You could make the next move here. 

You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned up to kiss him. After one soft brush of your lips, Bradley whispered, "We doing this in public now? In front of Ev?"

"Yeah," you confirmed, and then he kissed you a little harder, but kept his hands on all of your G rated body parts. He didn't let his lips linger too long, but he also didn't let you go. 

"Let me know when you and Ev are free? Maybe we can get some pizza after practice this week?"

You nodded up at him. "You know who else likes pizza? Molly. Want to see if Bob's free, too?"

Bradley laughed. "Yeah. Let's work on that."

When you slipped into your car and started the engine, Everett said, "Mom. I think Coach Bradley likes you!"

You couldn't help but laugh. "I think so too, Ev."

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

Monday had been going so well for Bradley. You and he had been texting all weekend, including a few risque photos. You also managed to get Molly to agree to come to practice on Thursday, and Bradley already informed Bob that she would be there. Bob was already so flustered, Bradley didn't see how he would even make it to Thursday. 

So his day was going well, right up until he was getting ready to leave base for tee ball practice.

"You have a minute?" Mav asked, and Bradley just shrugged.

"For you? I guess I have to."

Mav kind of laughed and then shook his head. "I have to send you up to Lemoore for a few days. Need you there by Saturday afternoon."

"You're joking," Bradley said. "I have a tee ball game on Saturday, Mav."

"Yeah, well, Bob can coach solo for one game. I need to send someone for training, and they selected you. At least it's not a full deployment."

Bradley ran his hands over his face. "Yeah," he grunted. He had already been planning out a way to get some more alone time with you. He had been hoping you'd agree to a sleepover at your house if Bradley left in the morning before Everett was up. Now he was going to have to go days without even seeing you. It's not like sleeping with you was the only thing on Bradley's mind, but his thoughts were wandering there a lot now. 

He'd tell you today at practice that he would be gone for a bit. He was just disappointed that he didn't have much choice. After he parked at the ballfield and started setting things up with Bob, his heart leapt when he saw you park next to his Bronco. But then he saw someone park on the other side of you, and a man got out and was immediately in your personal space and Everett's.

Bradley looked on with concern as Everett ran ahead of you with his gear bag, his face pinched like he was about to cry. You were still next to your car, and the other man was gesturing wildly with his hands while he loomed over you. He was tall, and even with your heels on, he dwarfed you. 

But Bradley peeled his gaze away from you as Everett got closer to the bleachers. "Hey, kiddo. You okay?"

He just nodded and sat down and started yanking his shoes off. But he didn't really look okay, and neither did you. Everett was swiping away tears before they could fall, and Bradley was seething with anger.

He knelt in front of Everett and helped him pull his cleats out. "Is that your dad talking to your mom?"

"Yeah," he replied softly and sobbing once before going silent again. Everett usually talked nonstop, constantly asking questions and wanting to know everything that was going on around him. 

Bradley cleared his throat. "How was school today?" he asked, doing up the laces and making sure Everett was ready for practice.

But he just shrugged and gave another one word answer. "Fine."

Bradley sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "We're going to have batting practice today, and I'll make sure I put you at the top of the lineup, how does that sound?"

He watched the kid's eyes light up a little bit. "Sounds good, Coach."

"Great. Now why don't you start warming up with Piper and Amber?" 

Everett reached into his bag and grabbed his Phillies hat, setting it on his head backwards just like Bradley. With a high five, he was off, running for the outfield toward Bob. And Bradley was standing up and getting a view of you struggling through the grass with your heels on, with a scowling Danny beside you. 

When your eyes met Bradley's, he watched a hesitant smile meet your lips. You shouldn't be hesitating with him. Your pretty face shouldn't look like you were on the verge of tears yourself. Danny looked taller than him, but Bradley felt the almost uncontrollable urge to knock him to the ground. And he was afraid he would do it if you or Ev did start crying. 

"I don't have time for this shit. You know that," Danny was telling you, practically yelling although he was right next to you. 

Bradley watched you take a deep breath and stop walking. "Danny. He's your child, too. He only sees you a handful of times a year. He loves baseball, and he's doing really well. I thought you could take like two hours out of your schedule to see him practice."

Danny shook his head at you. "I work all the time. You know that!"

Your hands turned to fists at your sides. "You work all the time?" you hissed. "Smoking pot and having sex with twenty year olds while you wait for artistic inspiration to strike is not the same thing as working! When was the last time you sold a painting? When was the last time you paid child support?"

Bradley felt his blood boiling. He knew he was staring and eavesdropping, but he didn't give a shit. And if Danny gave him a hard time, he wouldn't back down. 

Danny leaned toward you and got in your face. "You've always been like this. You don't appreciate the process. You act so fucking high and mighty, and then you can't understand why I don't want to be around the two of you."

"You don't need to spend time with me! I'm asking you to spend time with him!" you replied, turning back toward the ballfield where Everett was running the bases and laughing. 

Bradley was done watching this shit. He rolled his shoulders and made his way toward you. There were tears in your eyes now, and he was probably going to level your ex husband right in front of all of the other team parents and players who were getting ready for practice to begin. 

"Hi, Coach," you muttered when he got closer. 

"Kitten," he replied, loud enough for Danny to hear. "And you must be Everett's father." He reached out his hand and shook Danny's, making it clear with his eyes that he expected Danny to shape up his act. "I'm Bradley. One of the coaches."

"Fantastic," he replied sarcastically. 

Then Bradley focused all of his attention back on you. "Everything okay, Kitten?"

You nodded and smiled at him. "Yeah."

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

As soon as Bradley turned toward the ballfield to get the practice session started, Danny was all over you. 

"So you're fucking your kid's coach? That's a good one. Classy."

You knew Bradley could hear him by the way his shoulders stiffened and how his steps slowed. Part of you wished he would keep walking, and part of you wanted him to come back and wrap his arms around you.

But you rounded on Danny, because he wasn't your husband any longer. "First of all, Everett is your kid too, and second, that's none of your business. And third, do you really think you should even mention that shit after the way you cheated on me?" 

He was getting you riled up. He loved doing this. He would use this against you later, you knew he would. But you couldn't help yourself. 

"I sincerely hope you don't invite random men like this tee ball coach over for the night when Everett is around," Danny said in the most condescending voice. 

You sucked in a deep breath. "For once, just one time, I would like you to initiate spending some time with Everett. That's all I am asking for. Just a few hours. He deserves your attention."

Danny's response of, "I'll see what I can do," made you want to scream and throw your shoes at him. But instead, you just gingerly made your way to the bleachers, and he trailed behind you before sitting silently next to you. He took out his phone and never watched Everett at all. So you cheered twice as loud as you normally would while silently tamping down your rage. You couldn't even focus on the ridiculous things Sandra and Tara were saying behind you, because you knew if you took your eyes off of Everett and Bradley for a second, you'd start to cry. There was no way you'd let Danny have the satisfaction of knowing he could still do that to you.

When practice ended, Everett looked hesitant to come over to the bleachers. You nudged Danny with your foot, and he finally looked up with only mild interest. 

"Great job, sweetie!" you told Everett, collecting him in your arms as he came closer. "You were awesome!" But Everett still looked like he was about to burst into tears with Danny around.

"Nice job," Danny said with a plastic smile. "I need to run, but we'll set up another time to see each other, okay?" He patted Everett on the head and then turned to leave without another word. 

You weren't sure why you did this every few months. Part of you thought you'd be better off petitioning for full custody and leaving Danny out of your lives for good. But the other, softer part of you wanted Everett to have some sort of relationship with his father. 

And then Bradley was standing behind Everett, gently patting his shoulders and looking at you. "Ev was doing a great job batting today. I think he could handle some real pitches soon. Maybe even the batting cages," he told you, and you watched your son's face break out into a smile. 

"Really?" Everett asked Bradley, turning to look up at him.

"Oh yeah, kiddo. Definitely," he replied with a smile. 

You swiped away at the tears that still seemed to be lingering in your eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Ev. We can go to the batting cages one day."

"We can all go," Bradley said, but it just made you want to cry more. You weren't in a relationship with him. You weren't even technically sleeping with him. But he treated Ev with so much more care and respect that Danny did. And he was good to you as well.

You knelt to help Everett change his shoes, and you were so happy to hear him asking Bradley a million questions again. As Bradley walked you both up to your car, he started teaching Everett about baseball stats, and you got your phone out to text Molly. You wanted to make sure she could still make it to practice on Thursday, but you decided to also let her know that Danny came to practice at the last minute today.

Molly: You've got to be shitting me. He really showed up? Was he a dick? Of course I'll be there on Thursday. I've got to ask Coach Cute Glasses for his number. 

You snorted and tucked your phone away as Bradley helped Everett into the back of your car. "See you on Thursday, Coach!" Everett said, giving him a high five as he started to buckle himself in.

"Can I tell him about pizza?" Bradley asked you softly, and when you nodded, he draped one arm along the top of your car and leaned inside the door.

"How about we go out for pizza after practice on Thursday? Maybe with Coach Bob and your Aunt Molly too?"

"Really?" Everett asked, and you wouldn't know he'd been crying earlier. 

"Yeah, my treat. It'll be fun," Bradley said, closing the door and focusing his attention on you. 

You opened your mouth to argue with him right away. "Pizza will not be your treat! You bought me a one hundred dollar bottle of champagne!"

"Kitten, Bob and I will split the cost of the pizza. We need to make him look good in front of Molly, okay? Don't argue. Also, your ex husband is a fucking dick."

He backed you up against your car door with his hands at your waist and a concerned look on his face. "Yeah. I know."

"He made Everett cry," Bradley whispered. "Actual tears."

Your heart was pounding as you nodded up at him. "Thanks for making things better." Then his lips were on yours, and your palms came to rest on his chest. His kisses were soft, and he was pulling away from you almost immediately.  

"Oh, Kitten. I don't want to see that kid cry ever again."

You were practically whimpering at his words, but you held it together. "Thursday will be better, Coach. Pizza with Molly and Bob," you said, lacing your fingers through his. "And maybe this weekend we can try to spend a little time together? Just me and you?" 

"Oh, fuck," Bradley growled, his head tipping back. Then he was looking at you again, but his expression was far less pleased now. "I have to go to Lemoore for a few days. I'm leaving on Saturday morning."

"You'll miss the game this weekend?" 

He nodded. "I'm not sure when I'll be back. But we can talk on the phone at night?"

You laughed softly. "Is that what a deployment is like?"

Bradley kissed your cheek and your ear. "Oh, shit, Kitten. No way. A deployment would be so much worse. Hardly any communication at all."

You pondered that for a moment. "You mean we would just have to miss you without even getting to talk to you? Because that would probably make Ev cry, too."

He cupped your cheek with his big palm and tipped your face up to look at him. "But I would spend the rest of the time when I'm back in San Diego and not deployed making it up to him. And you."

You nodded and kissed him. "I believe you, Coach."

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

Bradley thought a lot about you while he flew all week. He wanted to have the chance to really be with you, but going to Lemoore was making things difficult for him now. He was aching for the chance to spend a night with you. There was no way he would have passed up that opportunity with you for any other plans. 

On Thursday, he was waiting to fly with Bob and Nat in the hangar. When Nat set her water bottle down to fix her boots, Bradley picked it up and finished her drink. "You need to stop that!" she complained when she saw what he had done. "And you need to tell me what's going on with your hot mama."

Bradley tipped his chin at Bob. "Ask him what his dinner plans are for tonight."

Nat turned toward Bob with a smirk. "You're dating a mom, too?"

Bob's flushed cheeks as he shook his head and sputtered. "N-No, not a mom. Everett's aunt."

It took Nat a second to piece it all together, but when she did, she started laughing. "You're interested in sisters?"

Bradley shared a look with Bob, and then the three of them were cracking up together. "This is too much for me to handle," Nat said, tossing her water bottle in the trash and heading to the tarmac. Then she spun around and excitedly asked, "Wait. Is there a third sister?"

"Just the two," Bradley confirmed with a grin.

"Damn it."

When Bradley was eventually showering before leaving for practice, he thought about the special treat he had tossed into his bag for Everett. It seemed really stupid now, but he couldn't get over the way Everett had been so upset on Monday. 

And Bradley fucking hated Danny. Everett was his child! What the fuck? How could you do that to your own child? And you were so strong, it was baffling to Bradley. You invited Danny to practice even though you knew he was horrible, but you still managed to stand up for yourself and your son. Bradley was absolutely hooked. He wondered if he could ever be good enough for you to be willing to stand up for him that way too. 

He had so many conflicting emotions as he hopped in the Bronco and headed for the ballfield. 

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

Molly parked right next to you, and she hopped out of her car to scoop Everett into a big hug. "I heard we're going out for pizza tonight!" she cheered, kissing him all over his face while he laughed. "I love pizza!"

"Me too!" he cheered, and Molly sent him toward the bleachers while you and she followed behind him. You hopped out of your high heels and slipped your sneakers on while she helped you walk. 

"Oh. There he is," Molly whispered with a grin. "Shit, do I like glasses now? Or just tall, sexy men?"

You watched Bob interacting with some of the kids, and you couldn't help but smile too. "I think Bob is actually taller and sexier than Casey was. And the glasses are like a cute little cherry on top."

"Are you checking out Bob?" Bradley asked when you reached the bleachers.

"Mmhmm," you and Molly both hummed in unison. 

Bradley kissed your cheek right in front of everyone, and then he took your hand as he told Molly, "Bob's not just a pretty face. He also has a master's degree in aeronautics, volunteers at the library, comes to a full stop at stop signs, and he never litters."

"Sounds made up," Molly said with a smirk. "I'll be the judge of things."

You and she sat side by side and watched Everett practice. It wasn't long before she started asking you about Danny. This didn't surprise you, but he wasn't high on your list of things you wanted to talk about. But you did admit, "He made Ev cry. I was almost in tears, too."

Molly kissed your temple and laced her fingers through yours. "He's horrible. Just take him to court and get full custody. I can help you pay for another lawyer, since I know you're not getting any child support."

"I don't need money," you promised, your eyes tracking Everett as he hit the ball and ran past Bradley who was cheering him on. "You know all those people who claim you can save a bunch of money by just making your own coffee at home? Turns out those bastards are right."

Molly didn't laugh, but she also didn't press you for more information. She just held your hand until practice ended. 

"My god... is he sweating? I think he's sweating," she whispered, and you realized she was watching Bob take off his glasses and wipe his face with a towel. "Do you think he would get upset if I licked his face?"

"Molly!" you said, cracking up. 

But now Bob was looking at her with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and she was just grinning back at him. 

"You need to behave at dinner," you muttered as Everett ran over and climbed on Molly's lap to get his shoes changed. 

You watched Bradley and Bob pack up all of the practice equipment and head your way. Bob cleared his throat twice before he managed to say, "Hi, Molly." And when your sister smiled up at him and greeted him by name, even you could feel butterflies in your tummy.

"Pizza time?" Bradley asked the group while Everett scrambled up onto his shoulders, knocking his hat off. When you caught it and set it on your own head, Bradley mumbled, "Looks cute, Kitten."

By the time you got to your car, Everett was laughing with Bradley, and Molly was smiling at Bob. You watched Bob climb into Molly's car as she told you, "Meet you there!" And then you turned to find Everett sitting on the tailgate of Bradley's Bronco.

"I have something for you, kiddo. It's not new, okay? He looks like he's seen better days, but he's still a good luck charm," Bradley was telling Everett while digging in his bag. When he pulled out a well worn stuffed Phillie Phanatic with slightly matted green fur and handed it to Everett, your heart skipped along erratically. 

Everett held it gently with both hands. "It's the Phanatic! Can I keep him?"

"Yeah, kiddo. He's all yours," Bradley told him, leaning on the tailgate as well. 

Everett hugged Bradley around the neck, and you felt so much love for this man. How was he already treating your kid this well?

"It's just a shame the real Phanatic is only at Phillies home games," Bradley said with a grin. "You've got to get your mom to take you to Philadelphia."

Suddenly two pairs of eyes were on you, but you were already shaking your head. "Maybe next year, Ev! Now hop in your seat so we can go get dinner."

Bradley wrapped you up in his arms, and you whispered, "Did you just give my son your very own stuffed animal?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice raspy and playful. "He got me through some hard times, just thought I'd pass him along. I can always come over and visit him at your house if I miss him too much, right Kitten?"

You looked up into his brown eyes in awe and ran your fingers along his mustache. "I just want you to know that if we were alone right now, I would be more than happy to help you through a hard time."

A smile spread across his handsome face. "Tell me more about that."

You bit your lip and ran your fingers down the front of his shirt. "It's just that, Kittens really know how to use their tongue."

Bradley groaned your name loudly, and you giggled when he grabbed your butt and pressed himself against you. "I need to get you alone," he whispered, and you kissed him hard, tasting his tongue and wiggling against him. 

Then you pulled out of his grasp, leaving him reaching for you as you backed away saying, "I think it's time for pizza."

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

I hate Danny. Also, Coach and the stuffed Phanatic!! If you don't know what the Phanatic looks like, Google him and laugh! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 11

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jay Kuo at The Status Kuo:

There’s a strange phenomenon occurring with the terminally online right. Ever since Vice President Kamala Harris announced that Gov. Tim Walz would be her running mate, many of the right have acted with fury. They’ve attempted to “Swift Boat” his 24-year service record in the Army National Guard. They’ve called him a racist for talking about “white guy tacos.” And they’ve dredged up a nearly 30-year old DUI—for which he took accountability and after which he stopped drinking altogether—to prove he’s somehow not so perfect a role model.

What they haven’t been able to do is make any of this stick. And yet, Walz continues to draw fire, which could otherwise have been directed at Harris. In other words, Walz is turning out to be a shrewd pick. At net 11 points positive favorability in polls, Walz is immensely more popular than his counterpart on the GOP ticket, JD Vance, who is underwater by nine. And as they continue to rail against him, the right keeps making his fundamental point about them: They are just really weird. In today’s piece, I explore some theories about why Walz brings out the worst impulses of the right just by being who he is. Then I’ll lay down some political tarot cards and prognosticate about where I think this leads.

Politico Uno Reverse

By most identity measures, Walz should be one of the MAGA right. He’s a midwestern white dude in his late 50s. He loves to hunt and is a sharpshooter. He served for decades in the military and achieved the highest enlisted rank of Command Sergeant Major. He was a football coach who helped lead his team to the state championship. And yet, despite all these identity markings, Walz in an unabashed progressive. He is for reproductive rights and an ally and protector of gay teens. And there isn’t a bigoted bone in his body. It’s as if when Harris picked him, she played, as writer Anna Gifty Opoku-Agyeman succinctly described it, a “political uno reverse.” The Walz card threw it right back at them, as if to say, “I’m a guy just like you, but without any of the weird baggage.” The MAGA GOP’s base is supposed to include white guys like Walz. But here is living evidence that they don’t have all of them or the best of them. That’s why they’re so eager to discredit him, because if they don’t, as psychologist Julie Hotard notes, then Walz will stand instead as a model of what is possible. On many levels, an appealing, white, male Democrat is a far bigger threat to their sense of identity than even a biracial woman candidate for president.

[...]

Attacking Mr. Nice Guy

For the past two decades, the GOP has shifted markedly toward being a party of cruelty, of “owning” the libs and drinking their tears, and of being as unpleasant and in-your-face as they can be. That kind of behavior has been rewarded with appearances on Fox and other right wing media, fundraising dollars from the MAGA base, and a spot at the side or in the tweets of the ex-president himself. As author Patrick S. Tomlinson observed, Walz represents what shouldn’t be an extraordinary notion: that you can be a nice guy, supportive of women, embracing of gay people, and still be all the coded masculine ideals of soldier, football coach, hunter and father that the MAGA right believed it had a lock on. Plus, you can be all those things without ever asking weird questions about menstrual cycles, chromosomes and genitalia. The right even tried to make a big deal about Walz’s efforts as governor to ensure free tampons were available to girls in school. Rumors circulated that schools had been required to also put tampons in boys’ bathrooms, but those claims turned out to be untrue, while demonstrating how off kilter the right becomes over sexuality and gender. The “Tampon Tim” moniker didn’t stick. On the contrary, there are probably many moms and dads grateful for a governor like Walz who is thinking about their daughters’ needs.

Jay Kuo explains the real reason why the right is being driven crazy by Tim Walz: The fact that he has a profile that would typify a MAGA voter (football coach, military service, loves to hunt) yet is a progressive white dude (solid LGBTQ+ rights ally before it became fashionable among Democrats).

[the-authoress-writes]

The Comfort of Your Arms

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x ER Nurse Wife!reader

(Not my art)

Synopsis: When a bad day at the ER leaves Mrs. Kazansky a wreck, she goes to the only place she knows she’s safe.

Warnings: Child death, mention of drunk driver, blood, vague descriptions of medical procedures, some cursing, reader is in state of emotional distress, non-sexual nudity, and just a whole lot of fluffy hurt/comfort.

Author’s Note: Huge disclaimer here—this is barely proofread, I just wanted to get this out as soon as possible, since this is a gift for @callsign-skydancer, who was having a bad few days a couple of days ago.

I thought this would ease her need for some soft Tom Kazansky thoughts.

I hope you like this, Sky!!

“Just get home.

Just get home.

Just get home,” played on loop in her head as she drove down the thankfully familiar roads, because she was honestly operating on autopilot.

Her heart rate was about thirty or forty BPM too high, she could just tell from the pounding all over her body.

She knew her body couldn’t sustain that for long, and she had to get home.

House after house passed her by, and finally, she pulled up to the curb of her house.

She coached herself through the motions of turning off the engine, getting her bag and lunch bag in her hand, and stepping out of the car.

The few steps to the door never felt so far as they did at that moment, her knees trembling just as much as her hands were, but she considered it a miracle that she was able to get the key into the lock, and the sound of the deadbolt turning echoed in her head.

As the door opened, the scent of home washed over her, and she stepped inside, almost in a daze.

“Hey, you’re home early!” The sound of her husband’s voice came from what sounded like the kitchen, and her breath shuddered in her chest, as she clapped her hand to her mouth to stifle the sob that was building in her chest.

Footsteps began to follow the sound of his voice as he walked to the door. “I was making my Mom’s piroshkis and beef stew—” Tom cut himself off as he caught sight of her.

She knew she looked like shit in her rumpled clothes, her hair was a mess, there was probably still some blood on her arms, and she was wide eyed.

The silence was heavy as gray eyes swept over her, immediately cataloguing each thing she thought of, and probably more, and he cautiously said, “Milaya, are you alright?”

At the sound of his voice, so soft and gentle, the sob that she’d been holding back burst forth, and the tears sprang from her eyes as she felt her legs give out beneath her.

She had barely made any contact with the floor, when she felt strong arms come around her, and the faint, lingering scent of jet fuel hit her nose, but then, the blackness which had been threatening ever since she heard the tone of flatline, consumed her.

Tom Kazansky would argue that it had been a great day for him; he and Mav had absolutely destroyed the current class of TOPGUN students, displaying yet again, the Kazansky-Mitchell dominance in the air (it’s alphabetical, Mav, your name can’t come first, and I’m older), he finished his paperwork early, and thusly had gotten home about half an hour early.

He knew his wife was working a long shift at the hospital, so after a quick change into more comfortable clothes, he wanted to surprise her with her favorite food from his family recipes.

He’d just gotten the piroshkis in the oven, and the stew was simmering on the stove, when he heard the keys jingle in the lock, and the door open. “Hey, you’re home early!” he called out, hanging the dish towel on the oven before moving to greet her. “I was making my Mom’s piroshkis and beef stew—” Tom cut himself off as he caught sight of her.

She looked beautiful as ever, but her hand was over her mouth, and the look in her eyes was painfully familiar; he’d seen it too many times in the eyes of fellow fighter pilots—hell, he’d seen it in his own eyes, especially after… well, Hop 31.

Her eyes were haunted, glassy with tears, her breathing much too fast.

And most frightening, there were a few stains of dried blood on her arms.

But he knew her well enough to know that if it were hers, there was no way she’d be here, instead of at the hospital, getting treated.

So it must have gotten on her while she was working.

Carefully, he ventured, “Milaya, are you alright?” keeping his voice soft and gentle, speaking as he would to a spooked animal.

He was startled, but not surprised as a sob burst from her mouth, and tears spilled from her eyes.

He lunged to catch her as her legs gave out beneath her and she passed out.

He called her name, gently shaking her, trying to rouse her.

Seeing that it was in vain, he carried her upstairs to the bedroom, laying her down on her side, all while continuing to stroke her hair and talk softly to her, calling for her to wake up.

After ten minutes had passed, and she hadn’t woken up yet, Tom went for the well-stocked first aid kit, grabbing an ammonia snap, rushing back to her side, breaking it under her nose.

She immediately gasped, and sat upright in bed, panicked.

“Milaya, milaya,” he called, wrapping an arm around her, as she tried to scramble out of bed, struggling vainly against his strong but careful grip.

He could see the panic in her eyes, and he got up onto the bed behind her, holding her against him, repeatedly murmuring “It’s okay, you’re alright, you’re here with me,” in the Russian he knew would calm her faster, even though she wouldn’t understand it, all because he knew it would reassure her she was really with him.

He felt when awareness came back to her, the heaving gasps turning into slight shudders. “Tom?”

It broke his heart to hear the tremble in her voice. “I’m here, lyubimaya moya, you’re safe.”

“I’m home?”

“Yeah, you’re home.”

“I made it—I made it home.”

He wasn’t sure why she was asking these questions, but he answered them regardless. “Yes, you did.”

She turned red-rimmed eyes to him. “I made it home,” and suddenly, she shifted her grip to hold him tightly and let out the most heartbreaking sobs he’d ever heard.

He held her through her sobs, unceasingly reassuring her of his presence, carding his hand through her hair.

When she calmed again, he gently said, “I’ll run you a bath, solnishko, how does that sound?

Make it warm, the way you like it, with all the oils and stuff.”

(It was actually closer to boiling, in his opinion, but she loved it, so he didn’t question it.)

She didn’t reply verbally, just nodded, and if she needed to be quiet for a while, that was fine, he could talk for the both of them.

Tom led her to the bathroom, starting the water in the shower/tub, turning the handle all the way to the left.

She was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, staring blankly at the wall.

He reached for her hands, taking them in both of his.

Her hands were freezing, and he rubbed them between his, to warm them up. “Okay, how about we get you undressed?

That okay?”

Again, a nod.

“Alright.”

He started with her shoes, putting them off to the side so neither of them would trip on them, then her socks, patterned with little hearts, he noted.

“Okay, milaya, let’s get your jeans off.”

He pulled her to her feet, directing her to stand on his socked feet so she wouldn’t touch the cold tile of the floor, unbuttoning her jeans with one hand to help keep her balanced on his feet, and tugged them along with her underwear halfway down.

“Okay, you can sit down again, lyubimaya moya.”

Next was her sweatshirt, then her bra.

Normally, this sort of procedure had a very different outcome, and the sight of his naked wife was more than enough for a very different reaction, but at the moment, he couldn’t care less about a “usual male reaction”, wanting nothing more than to care for the love of his life.

By this time, he could feel the steam from the shower behind him, so he plugged the drain and pulled the spigot on the tub faucet, causing the water to flow from it instead of the shower head.

While waiting for the tub to fill, he dropped several drops of her lavender oil into the water, the air filling with its scent immediately, before shutting the faucet once the tub filled.

He helped her into the steaming tub, easing her down into the water, the tension in his heart he didn’t even know he had easing when she breathed a little sigh of relief.

“Okay, zhizn moya,” he said, kneeling beside her, “I just need to remove the piroshkis from the oven and shut the stove, okay?

I’ll be—”

Her hand flew to his wrist, gripping so tightly he winced slightly.

“No—please don’t leave me,” she whispered.

“I’ll be so fast, milaya.

I’ll be back soon.”

“No,” she shook her head.

“Please, solnishko.

The house could burn down if I don’t.”

She saw the reason in this, but Tom could see that it was wrenching something in her to be parted from him, even for so short a time.

So he offered a compromise. “How about this: I’ll sing the whole time, you’ll be able to hear me, so you don’t feel so alone.”

He knew she loved to hear him sing, for some reason, even though he thought he had a horrible voice—he was much better at the piano, in his opinion.

She bit her lip, considering. “Okay—but you have to promise me you’ll come back soon.”

“I swear it on my wings, milaya.”

“Okay,” she let go of his wrist.

He began softly singing “Are You Lonesome Tonight?”, the song they had danced to for the first time when they were dating, backing out of the bathroom, increasing the volume of his voice the further he got.

He ran downstairs, shutting the stove with a flick of the wrist, before grabbing the piroshkis from the oven—luckily, he could see they were still edible, just slightly too brown at the edges.

With his mission completed, he dashed up the stairs, entering the bathroom just in time to finish the second refrain. “See?

I told you I’d be fast,” he grinned.

She plaintively reached for him. “Join me please—I… I need to feel you.”

How could he deny her?

He quickly undressed, sitting in the spot she made for him behind her, bracketing her legs with his, pulling her against him, and she shifted to rest her ear over his heart.

The water had cooled slightly, thank God, so he wasn’t cooking in the water like he would have been earlier.

Tom let the silence sit for a while before venturing, “What happened today, lyubimaya moya?”

At first, he wondered if she had fallen asleep, but then, she spoke. “I knew it would be bad when the paramedics encoded into the hospital; pediatric patient, hit by a drunk driver in the middle of the damn day.” Her breath hitched, and he felt moisture not from the bath fall on his chest. “He was so little, Tom, and there was so much—I tried to save him—I did compressions for forever; his little ribs—but—” her voice broke, and she silently sobbed against him.

At this full understanding of what happened to her today, his heart shattered for her. “Oh, milaya.

I’m so sorry.”

She choked, “Why?

He was seven.

Still basically a baby.

Why?”

“I don’t have the answers for you, solnishko, but wherever he is, I’m sure he’s so grateful you tried to save him.”

“It’s not enough.

I should—who the fuck gets drunk in the middle of the fucking day?”

“The asshole who killed that poor kid,” he thought, but he knew it was a rhetorical question, and that she didn’t really want that answer.

More moisture fell against his chest and he held her tighter.

By the time the water had gone cold, her tears had long since stopped, so with gentle motions, he lifted her up, wrapping a towel around her and another around his waist, unplugging the drain and grabbing fresh clothes for the both of them, quickly throwing on his, then repeated the process he’d done for her earlier in reverse.

Dressed, she curled up on her side of the bed.

“Do you think you can eat a little something?” he asked.

“I don’t want to.”

“You have to.”

She sniffled, “You—you’d have to leave me again.”

Tom offered, “I’ll sing again for you; I promise I won’t make you eat a lot—just a little, for me, please?”

“…Okay.”

He ran downstairs, reprising his “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” while ladling out a small bowl of stew, sticking it in the microwave for a minute, and putting a piroshki on a saucer, returning upstairs to see a soft, barely-there smile on her lips. “You should sing more,” she murmured.

“I don’t know why you think my voice is anything fantastic, I’m much better at the piano,” he smiled back.

“It’s more beautiful than you think.”

He sighed, “I’ll take your word for it.

Now here you go, your favorites; the piroshkis are a little bit too crispy, but it’s still good.

You want me to feed you or are you good?”

When she hesitated, he smiled, “Just sit up for me, okay, I don’t want you to choke.”

It took a while, but he got her to finish the whole bowl of stew, and half the piroshki, tossing the other half in his own mouth, placing the dishes on the nightstand for tomorrow, not wanting to leave her again—his OCD could go screw itself for a few hours.

He got into his side of the bed, pulling the covers over both of them, and enfolding her into his arms, purposely shifted her ear over his heart. “Get some rest, milaya.

I’m here, I won’t leave you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

She had endured hell today, she knew that, but her husband’s gentle care eased the pain in her heart, and the way he took care of her tonight was something she would not—could not—forget.

She would be forever grateful she’d given him a chance three years ago at The O Club, seeing something in him beyond the cocky facade he liked to present to the world.

“I’m sorry I wrecked your dinner plans,” she whispered.

“You didn’t wreck them,” he murmured back.

“But—”

“But nothing.

You were hurting, and I wanted to take care of you.

There’ll be other nights.”

“I don’t deserve you, Tom,” she shook her head.”

He sighed, “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you, okay?

And I’m not taking any arguments.”

She could hear the smile in his voice.

“I’m so glad I gave you a chance at The O,” she said, repeating her earlier thoughts.

He chuckled, “So am I.”

Silence fell over them again, and she was just about to fall asleep, but she was suddenly seized by a desire to tell him something. “Thank you for catching me,” she breathed, meaning more than when she passed out downstairs.

Thankfully, he understood. “I’ll always be here to piece you back together, milaya.

I love you.”

She smiled, her heart full of love for this man. “I love you too.

And I promise to do the same for you.”

And with that, she allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

Val has indeed sung “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” although with some, ahem, amendments to the lyrics, in the film soundtrack of Top Secret!

Russian Glossary

Disclaimer: endearments and translations taken from Google—please don’t hesitate to correct me if I’m wrong, which, odds are, I am.

Milaya: dear, darling (there are other translations of this word, however)

Lyubimaya moya: my darling/my one and only sweetheart

Solnishko: little sun

Zhizn moya: my life

Taglist

@valmare

@callsign-skydancer

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@tadomikiku

@malindacath

@aviatorobsessed

@lynnevanss

@djs8891

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Home For Christmas - Jake Seresin x OC

A/N: This is my entry for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Writing Challenge, with the trope childhood friends. I was watching a lot of romcoms last night and felt inspired, it's definitely heavily influenced by 13 Going on 30, Just Friends + Sweet Home Alabama. (I realize only one of those is set in the winter, but I digress). I'm debating a part two/epilogue as well, if anyone is interested! Also super proud of this one, because it's the longest fic I've ever written.

pairing: Jake Seresin x OC

warnings/content: none, lots of fluff and pining. Jake's been promoted to Captain. Probably a lot of inaccuracies.

word count: 7.7k (literally my longest one yet, I'm sorry)

tagging anyone who might be interested: @littleenglishfangirl, @floydsmuse, @sailor-aviator, @mamachasesmayhem 🤍

December, 1999

“Jake! Jake, wait up!” 

“Run faster then, I gotta get home before the street lights come on or my mama’s gonna be so mad she won’t let you come over tomorrow!” 

“Jake, your mama’s not gonna say no to me comin’ over and you know it.”

“Jenna, how you ever gonna keep up with me when I join the navy and start having to run a few miles every day?”

Jake turned around to face you for a moment, running backwards with a grin plastered on his face, his baby-faced cheeks red from the cold, his green eyes full of mischief as he watched you try and keep up with him. His sandy blonde hair stuck out slightly from underneath his Dallas Cowboys baseball cap, a handmedown from his older brother that he rarely left home without since Matt had given it to him. He stopped running, placing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, the cold air stinging his throat as he panted. You finally managed to close the distance between the two of you, raising an eyebrow as you panted, your own cheeks ruddy from the combination of cold winter air and physical activity. 

You and Jake had been best friends as long as you could remember. In eleven years, you couldn’t name a single time where the two of you had as much as had a disagreement, or went more than a few hours without talking to one another. Your mothers had been best friends in high school, and you two were destined to be best friends since birth - born four days apart in the same hospital, living on the same street and having your first play date at 10 and 7 days old. Jake was four days older than you, and he never let you forget it when it came to matters where age or maturity played a role. However, where Jake had four days more experience in the world, you had multitudes more experience in dealing with hardship than any eleven-year-old child should have. 

Where Jake had the picture-perfect family - a mom, a dad, an older sister, an older brother and him, all living in perfect harmonious happiness, never as much as a doubt as to whether or not there was love in his household, you had the opposite. An absent father, an only child, and a mother who worked two jobs to try and make life better for the two of you, you spent almost every waking minute with Jake and his family, not only as an escape to experience the happy, blissfully carefree life he lived, but also, as a favour to your mother, with Mrs. Seresin often volunteering to care for you when your mother had to work late or work on weekends. 

You were at the Seresin home almost every night, with Jake’s mother fussing over her best friend’s daughter, helping her lifelong friend however she could in guiding her little girl, you acting as the surrogate daughter that part of her had always wanted. Jake’s father trying to fill in the blanks where your father had lacked - offering to coach sports teams and including you in games of catch with Jake and his brother, taking you and the boys to get new baseball gloves or soccer cleats when needed, taking the three of you for ice cream after a big achievement in life. Jake’s 16 year old sister, Bethany, would take time to do your hair in the mornings before school whenever she had a chance, offering to do it in all the fun styles she and her friends wore, the kind you were often envious of, passing you old tubes of lip gloss she had lingering around in her backpack on your way to school, encouraging you to use them to your hearts content.  Even Matt, who at 14, thought his brother and his brother’s friends were the most irritating beings in existence, had offered you old sports jerseys of his that no longer fit, teasing you the same way he’d tease Jake, treating you like the little sister he never had. 

Until this past summer, you found yourself wishing most days that Jake’s family would just adopt you, let your mother move in with them and the two of you could just officially be a part of their fun, bustling family that served as your cheerful escape from life. However, when elementary school ended in June with middle school looming around the corner, Bethany had pulled you aside to talk to you about the transition between schools. 

“You know, middle school is…different. It’s not bad. It’s just…things change sometimes. You and Jake might start going on dates with people from school, and it might change your relationship. It happens,” She’d said matter of factly, not mincing words as she shrugged her shoulders, fixing her frosted eyeshadow in the mirror before turning to face you again.

“You might even develop feelings for each other.”

At the time, her words didn’t hold meaning for you. You and Jake had been best friends since Jake was four days old. Your moms were best friends. You practically lived in their home. There was no way things could change between you. You could never have a crush on Jake. He was Jake, the boy who would hide under his mama’s kitchen table with you and a flashlight, swapping baseball cards with one another, the boy who, when you were six-years-old, you’d witnessed eat an entire package of Oreos, then laughed at as he proceeded to throw up an hour later from the sheer volume of chocolate-vanilla sandwich cookies he’d consumed that day. Jake could never be someone you’d have a crush on. He was your best friend. That would never change.

It was two weeks later when Jake had been on the baseball diamond, pitching an inning of Little League with you in the stands watching on. His baseball cap had been flipped backwards to mimic one of his favourite major league players, his green eyes narrowing in concentration with every pitch he threw out. His golden blonde hair poked out the front of his baseball cap, much like it was doing today, on this cold January evening. His focus was on nothing but baseball, while yours was on everything but when it came to him. When he happened to look your way during the game, you felt a weird feeling in your stomach - a bubbling sensation, like nerves that couldn’t be settled. Your cheeks flushed, turning a pale pink as they became warm to the touch, reddening slightly as you felt Bethany’s gaze fall on you, a grin forming on her face as you proved her right about how your feelings were evolving for Jake. 

Since that day, you’d found yourself continuing to crush on him, each day your feelings grew deeper and more intense than the day before. At this point, you almost swore you could see yourself marrying him one day. You had to admit, you knew everything there was to know about him, you always had fun with him, and he was always happy to see you - you were convinced you two could be as happy and as in love as his parents were someday when you and Jake got older. You’d never tell Jake, you just hoped and prayed that he’d realize one day that he felt the same way about you as you felt about him. You knew there was always the chance that it might not happen, but you didn’t want to think about that.  In fact, as far as you were concerned, you hoped that there was never a day where Jake didn’t love you as wholeheartedly as your little eleven year old self loved him.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 

Present Day

“Jake, please, come back. I miss you,”

“I miss you too, Jenna, I’m coming home to you. It’s always been you.”

The ear-piercing screech of your phone’s alarm blared from your nightstand, interrupting your dream as it screamed at you. You rolled over in bed, groaning as you clumsily stuck your hand out, feeling around on the wooden side table for your phone to silence it and allow yourself a few more moments of peace and quiet before you had to start your day. The last think you wanted right now was to let this dream slip away on you - it was the closest you’d ever find yourself to Jake professing his love for you after all these years, and you clung to it whenever it cropped up in your mind as you slept. 

Jake had always been the one-who-got-away for you. You spent your entire middle school years trying to hide your feelings for him, refusing to break until he said how he felt first. You were 13 when he got his first girlfriend, Tiffany Donaldson, a girl in your class. Tiffany was pretty and popular, something that you couldn’t claim for yourself in either case - growing up with Jake, you were seen as more of a teammate or a sister-figure than anything else, despite his sister’s best efforts to help you shake that connection somewhat. After Tiffany, you two had begun high school, and Jake made the football team, and the baseball team. As the school’s star runningback and starting pitcher for the varsity team, Jake was popular beyond words. No one could hold a candle to him, and as his popularity soared because of his athletic prowess in school, you faded further and further back into obscurity, the limelight falling from you and onto someone new each time Jake began dating another girl. Eventually, by the time graduation rolled around, you and Jake had all but fallen out of touch with each other outside of family get-togethers shared between your mothers. 

You had just worked up the courage to tell him your feelings at the graduation party Jake’s parents had thrown for you both, convincing yourself that it was perfect timing - Jake had accepted an offer at the University of Texas at Austin, keeping close to home as he planned to study finance, his secret talent having always been math. You’d accepted an offer to study communications at the same school, and with both of you remaining local, it would be the perfect time to tell him how you felt and attempt a relationship with him, or so you thought.

Before the words could even leave your mouth, Jake was excitedly pulling you aside at the party, stopping outside of his childhood bedroom, the place where the two of you had often played as kids. His green eyes were full of excitement as he looked at you, causing your heart to race as butterflies fluttered in your stomach, making it hard to concentrate on his words. You almost didn’t hear him when he spoke, you were so transfixed on him. If the news had been anything else, you probably wouldn’t have even registered what he’d said the first time. You could still hear the excitement in his voice as he told you his news, and still feel the ache in the pit of your stomach as his words fell on your ears.

“I got accepted! I’m going to the Naval Academy, Jenna, can you believe it? I’m going to serve in the Navy, just like I always wanted. I’m going to be the best aviator they’ve ever seen. Just you watch.” 

Jake’s voice was practically buzzing with excitement as he’d told you his news, and it took everything you had in you to not fall apart as he spoke. While you knew he’d always dreamed of being a naval aviator, as long as you could remember, the news hit you like a ton of bricks, unexpected and hard as it rendered you speechless, leaving you nodding your head and smiling like an idiot while inside you wanted nothing more than to scream out how you felt. You knew this could never work out between you now. Your chance was gone, moving away to Maryland and joining the Navy before you’d even had a second to realize what was happening when he spoke. 

That was 17 years ago, and the moment still haunted you from time to time, more than you’d like to admit to anyone. At first, you’d kept in touch with Jake and his family, seeing Jake when he came home for holidays and such at first, but then, as you and Jake began entering your first romantic relationships as adults, you found yourselves including each other less and less in your lives. With each boyfriend you had, you realized more and more that you could never love them the way you loved Jake -he’d always be your first love, regardless of how he felt in return. When Jake graduated, he’d been stationed at NAS Lemoore, swapping Maryland for California. You’d still hear the odd update from your mother, who remained in touch with Jake’s parents, but otherwise, you didn’t ask much about Jake’s adult life. You knew he’d never married, that he’d become a Top Gun graduate, and held true to his word about becoming one of the greatest fighter pilots in the United States Navy, but other than that, you knew little about his life now. Last you had heard, last Christmas, he’d been stationed in San Diego. 

You sat up in bed, yawning and stretching your body out before heaving a heavy sigh and shaking your head to rid yourself of thoughts of Jake. You were preparing for a trip back home to Texas for the holidays, spending three weeks back with your mother, part of you wishing and longing for Jake to be visiting his family at the same time, while the other part of you prayed he was staying in California or serving a tour so he wouldn’t be able to be there while you were. It had been close to 15 years since you’d seen him, and the last thing you needed was to be reminded of how you strongly you felt. You didn’t need the help from seeing him. The memories of him were more than enough to keep you clinging on. 

Your phone rang and with bleary eyes, you picked it up, pressing the green button to answer the call.

“Good morning, sweetheart!” Your mother practically sang out in a voice that was far too cheerful for anyone to have at this hour. 

“Hi mama, what’s up? My flight doesn’t land until this evening.” 

“Well, I was talking to Mrs. Seresin about Jake, Matt and Bethany…” Your mother’s voice trailed off as she spoke, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat at the mention of Jake.

“Mhmm?” You responded as you stood up, balancing the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you folded a sweatshirt and set it down neatly on the bed, waiting to be packed.

“It turns out both of us are having our kids home for Christmas! Bethany’s coming down from Dallas with her husband and their little ones, and Matt’s coming from Oklahoma City with his fiancee, and Jake’s flying in on leave from California. He’s made his way up to Captain now, you know, Jenna. He’s made quite the career for himself.”

“Mama, I don’t need a sales pitch on why Jake Seresin is the perfect man for me, ok? He hasn’t seen me in years. He probably wouldn’t even recognize me if he saw me.”

“You never know. But I expect you to dress nicely for their Christmas party. You and I have been invited to join them, and I already said you would gladly be attending.”

“Of course you did. So Jake will be there, then?”

“I think his flight lands just before yours does today, actually. His mama and I were actually discussing if we should just carpool together to pick you both up like back when you two were in school together. Remember that? We used to take turns carting you kids back and forth from home to school.”

“I remember, mama. Don’t worry.”

“Anyway…we were talking and it turns out, Jake happens to be single.”

“Mama, why would I care that Jake’s single?” You replied, trying to sound as level-headed as possible. 

“Please, Jenna. You really think I don’t know about this crush of yours you’ve been harbourin’ for years?” You could hear the laughter in your mother’s tone as she spoke, and it stung, almost as though your feelings had betrayed you.

“Mama! I haven’t had a crush on Jake in years. Not since he left for the Navy.”

“Of course not…just, do me a favour? Wear something nice for that Christmas party, ok?”

“Sure, Mama, whatever you say.”

You finished the conversation with your mother and let out an exasperated sigh as you tossed your phone onto your bed beside you. You had to be at the airport in three hours, leaving you little time to completely reconfigure your wardrobe for the next few weeks at home in Austin. Peering into your closet, scanning the items as they sat on wire hangers in the tiny space, you frowned, realizing that nothing was worthy of a reunion with Jake after all these years. At the back of the closet, you found a black, form-fitting sweater dress that you hadn’t worn in years, but, as you held it up to yourself in the mirror, you figured it could work. Part of you hoped this reunion could be the thing that’d remind Jake of what he was missing out on for the last 17 years. 

As you finished packing your suitcase, you zipped it closed with a sigh, shaking your head as you tried to calm your nerves before getting yourself ready for your flight. There was a chance you could see Jake at the airport, and you knew you had to look your best, just in case. 

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 

The flight from Chicago to Austin was the most painful three hours of your life. You tried to focus your attention on anything but Jake, but every movie saved on your phone, every book on your tablet, and every thought that crossed your mind was filled with him. You tried reminding yourself that he could be a totally different person from who he was when you were 18. That he could look completely different, act completely different - that he may not even know who you are anymore. The thought of Jake forgetting you was suffocating, closing in on you a little bit more every time it creeped into your mind. You took a deep breath as you departed the plane, your eyes scanning the crowd for your mother as you gripped your carry-on. Your face went white as a sheet as you saw her standing with Mrs. Serensin, both of whom waved frantically with excitement as they saw you.

“Jenna! It’s been so long, darlin’, how have you been? Your mama’s told me lots, but I feel like it’s no substitute for getting to see you in person!” 

“Hi, Mrs. Serensin! I’ve been ok, how have you guys been? Haven’t seen you in about, 15 years? I think I saw y’all the one visit after Jake shipped out, but I haven’t been home much for the holidays, Mama’s usually up in Chicago visiting me.”

“We’ve been good, Bethany has two boys now, Easton and Dylan, and Matt’s met this girl, Alexis, she’s wonderful, a real sweetheart. He’s gettin’ married next summer. “

“Oh, that’s great news!” You replied cheerfully, fighting the instinct to bite your lip as she failed to mention where Jake was at in life. 

“We better get going, Julie, Jake’s plane’s about to land,” Your mother said as she grabbed Mrs. Seresin’s arm excitedly, nodding her head.

“Oh, I thought Jake landed earlier?” 

“He was meant to, but his flight got delayed, he’s landing in a few minutes now, I think.”

You nodded your head slowly, reluctantly following behind as your mom and Mrs. Serensin led the way to Jake’s terminal, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes followed the signage as you walked past. You tried your best to focus on something, anything, but your nerves but so far, your nerves were winning. You were terrified. What if Jake hated you for not staying in touch? What if he forgot all about you? What if you were the last person he wanted to see? What he if came through those doors with a surprise girlfriend on his arm?

“Ma!” You heard a voice call out. You looked up to see a tall, handsome man with neatly combed blonde hair, piercing green eyes and sunkissed skin. His naval uniform was still perfectly pressed without a crease on it somehow after his flight, and he looked perfect. You knew in an instant that it was him.

“Ms. T?” He chuckled as he shook his head, pulling back from his mother’s embrace as he gave your mother a heartfelt hug, before pausing as he looked at you, a warm smile on his lips as he nodded his head, his blonde eyebrow cocked upwards in surprise. 

“Jenna?”

“The one and only,” You shrugged with a smile as you tried your best to play it cool, forgetting for a moment that at 35 years old, you shouldn’t be getting tongue-tied and start giggling like a schoolgirl over a crush. The mere fact that you still had a crush on Jake was enough to make you feel like a fool.

“It’s nice to see ya, Jenna,” Jake nodded as he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you into his embrace. You breathed in the scent of his cologne, notes of whiskey and cedarwood encircling you as his grip remained tight, yet comfortable around you, as if he was hugging his long lost friend, which, he was in a sense. 

“Nice to see you too, Jake,” You nodded once as he pulled away, a soft smile on your lips as you looked at him, trying to commit this moment to memory before it drifted away on you. 

You swore out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mothers exchange a look with one another, a secret signal to one another, as if a master plan of theirs was underway, and everything was beginning to come together before their eyes.  

As the four of you headed out to the car together, you caught yourself repeatedly stealing glances at Jake. He hadn’t changed hardly at all since you saw him last, apart from gaining some muscle, and his cheekbones and jawline becoming a bit more defined as he’d aged. He looked incredible for 35, if you didn’t know him, you likely would have guessed he was barely 30, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself fall deeper with each stolen look at him. 

“So, you’re Captain Seresin now then?” You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him, hoping to break the silence brewing between the two of you.

“Yeah, this past April! I didn’t expect to get it, to be honest.”

Jake’s cheeks reddened as he smiled at you, trying to appear modest as he spoke of his accomplishments in the Navy since you’d last seen him. He had always used to have an ego so big that it’d rival some of the aircraft around in size, especially as a teenager - he was good and he knew he was good when it came to sports. It was part of what drove the two of you apart, but around you? He was modest like he always had been before, acting embarrassed by the achievements he’d otherwise never shut up about. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think Jake was nervous around you. Jake Seresin, the only service member on active duty with multiple confirmed kills, the US Naval Air Force Captain who’s served for the last 17 years without as much as a scratch on him, the man who graduated top of his class from the Top Gun program, where only the best of the best are selected to participate. Jake Seresin had no need to be nervous about impressing you. He could have impressed you by simply looking your way - but for some reason, he was nervous around you, reduced to a blushing, modest mess.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 

“Jake’s such a lovely boy,” Your mother said as she sipped her morning coffee, eyes fixated on the news program on her television set. 

“He’s 35, mama, he’s hardly a boy now.”

“Fine, Jake’s a lovely man, he’s still just as sweet as I remember him being when he was young. He comes back to visit whenever he gets a leave and stays for a few days, and he always stops by to say hello - he even asks about you sometimes.”

“He asks about me?”

“He sure does, he asked Julie about you the other day, in fact. He was asking if you’d be home this time at Christmas. Seems you two always come back to visit on opposite schedules and never run into each other. He was saying he’d like to see you again, Jenna.”

Your mother’s words hung in the air for a moment. You took a sip from your coffee mug and furrowed your brow as you thought it over. You dismissed your mother’s words as nothing more than an attempt to set you and Jake up on a date, one that you figured Jake wasn’t going to be a willing participant of. 

“Oh Mama, hush, he probably just said that to be polite because he figured I’d be coming home for the holidays anyway.”

“Jenna, why are you always so stubborn?” Your mother frowned, shaking her head as she let out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not stubborn, I’m just…practical. I’m the only one who seems to realize the fact that Jake and I haven’t seen each other in 17 years, Mama. We’re not the same people we were when we were 18. He could be a serial womanizer with a series of broken hearts left behind waiting for him in California for all I know. He could have 17 kids by different women, or be a serial killer, Mama. I literally know nothing about him anymore.”

“Jenna Elizabeth Taylor, you’re just being ridiculous now,” Your mother frowned as she shook her head, sighing, “I think Julie would have mentioned it if Jake was a father, and do you really think he’s the type to go around breaking hearts for fun? Besides, how could he be a serial killer if he’s busy flying around on missions all the time?”

“You’re missing my point, Ma.”

“No, Jenna, I think you’re missing mine,” She sighed, setting her mug down on the table as she pursed her lips, “My point is, I know you’ve been holding out for him for years. He’s asked his mama about you, he’s been asking if you were coming home, he stops in to see me whenever he comes home - do you really think he’d do all that if he didn’t still feel something for you?”

“Mama, I’m not going to make a fool of myself and throw myself at him, contrary to what you think would work.”

You heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, and when you turned on your heel, you stood face to face with Jake, now sporting a fitted pair of acid-washed light denim jeans and a burnt orange Texas Longhorns football jersey and a brown corduroy bomber jacket shrugged on over top. His blonde hair peaked out from behind his beloved baseball cap, you’d swear it was the same one he’d been wearing since he was 15 if you didn’t know any better, this hat looked like it had been through hell and back.

He’d let himself in through the unlocked front door, almost certainly at your mother’s previous insistence or invitation. His cheeks were blushing again, his green eyes darting between the two of you, a blonde eyebrow cocked upwards as his gaze landed on you.

“Throw yourself at who?” He chuckled, flashing a set of perfect white teeth your way as gave you that same grin that he always did when you were kids. It was the kind of smile that always got him out of trouble, and sometimes, into trouble, depending on the situation. 

“No one,” You said quickly, shooting your mother a warning glance as you shook your head, a few strands of light brown hair falling free from your half-assed ponytail that you’d thrown it up into the night before for bed. You realized that Jake was now standing in your mother’s living room while you were sporting an oversized old Texas Longhorns tee and a pair of sweatpants - not ideal attire for seeing a man you were attracted to in, regardless of your protests about your feelings to your mother. 

“Right,” Jake nodded his head, but the tone in his voice told you he didn’t quite believe a word you were saying, “I know this isn’t a great time, but Ma wanted me to check and see if you and Ms. T were still able to make it tonight, she wanted me to ask in person, and she wanted me to see if you needed my help bringing anything over, she said you were bringing your famous taco dip, Ms. T? I can bring the dish over now for you if you’d like, Ma’s cleared out the fridge of anything that isn’t a necessity for the party so there’s tons of room.”

“Sure, Jake, honey, it’s in the fridge, Jenna can show you where, I just have to run upstairs and grab something to send to your mama’s with you,” Your mother said as she stood up, heading off up the stairs quicker than you could say a word, leaving you and Jake alone in an awkward stance, nothing but the sound of the morning news to fill the silent void between you, until Jake cleared his throat again before pointing his index finger towards the kitchen.

“In here? I’m sure I can find it if you need to go upstairs and get changed.” 

“I’m fine, not like you haven’t seen me in pajamas before, Jake.”

“Well, in my defense, last time we were like, 12.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen a woman in an oversized tee and sweatpants before,” You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to be completely unbothered by the fact you felt like you were dressed like an absolute slob right now. 

“Alright, lead the way then,” Jake nodded as he followed behind you. 

You felt his eyes make their way down your body, and you swore you could hear him muttering something under his breath as he sauntered into the kitchen after you. You couldn’t make out what he had said, but it sounded almost like a “Jesus Christ” before he coughed and averted his gaze as you turned to face him. You opened the fridge and grabbed the dish containing your mom’s taco dip before setting it on the counter for Jake to take home. You raised an eyebrow at Jake as you caught him staring in your direction, a look of bewilderment on his face. 

“You good, Hangman?”

“Hmm?” Jake said as he shook his head, an awkward laugh escaping his lips as he raised an eyebrow at you, “How did you know my callsign?”

“Because it’s on the back of your jersey, genius.”

Jake raised an eyebrow as he looked down, as if he’d forgotten what shirt he was wearing today. He nodded his head and laughed as he ran a hand through the back of his hair, scratching the back of his neck as he looked back up at you. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Just, uh, jet-lagged, I think.”

“Jet-lagged? Isn’t only two hours behind us in San Diego?”

“You can still feel jet-lag with a two hour difference, Jenna.”

“I’m not stupid, Jake, I know that, but you seem…distracted? Not tired.”

“I’m fine, honest,” He nodded as he shoved his hands into his front pockets, looking around the kitchen as you checked the fridge for the extra shredded cheese and green onions your mother had prepared the night before to top the dip she’d made. 

“Suit yourself, Jake,” You laughed as you set everything out on the counter for him and nodded, “If you give me five minutes to get dressed, I’ll help you bring it over.”

“Five minutes? God, I remember you taking 30 minutes to get ready when we were kids.”

“I was 12, it was 2000, I needed more time to perfect my lip gloss routine. Now I just have to put something warmer and nicer on than a t-shirt and sweatpants.”

“Fair enough, I can wait here. Your mama said she’d back down in a minute with something for Ma anyways.”

“Right, I’ll be back down in five.” 

You turned around and headed back up the stairs, sighing softly to yourself as you entered your childhood bedroom, opening your suitcase as you grabbed out a pair of jeans and a vintage crewneck sweatshirt. You tidied your hair up into a neat ponytail before heading back down the stairs to meet Jake, who was currently talking to your mother in the kitchen, his body leaning against the counter as he spoke. Jake looked up at you, straightening his posture as he saw you. He picked the taco dip up from the counter, along with the reusable shopping bag your mother had packed up of the extra ingredients. Sitting on the counter next to the food was a gift, perfectly wrapped with a gold bow and a tag written out in your mother’s sleek handwriting. Jake’s mother and yours had always exchanged gifts with one another, and it warmed your heart in a sense to see the tradition still carrying on for them. 

“So, you enjoy living in Chicago?” Jake asked, watching you as the two of you headed back from your childhood home, Jake having insisted on walking you back so you could spend some time catching up, even if just for a few minutes. .

“Yeah, it’s a change of scenery. It’s different from Austin for sure. How’s San Diego treating you?”

“It’s pretty good, I like being on the beach. I do miss home sometimes though,” He laughed softly, giving his shoulders a gentle shrug as he looked around at the street you grew up on, just a couple of blocks away from his own childhood home.

“I mean, yeah, I miss my mom sometimes when I’m in Chicago, but, I know it’s easier for me to come home and see her than for you to come home and see your family.”

“Jenna? Can I ask you something?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do you…do you regret leaving for Chicago?”

“No, I wouldn’t be where I’m at now if I hadn’t left. I have a really good career in public relations, and I’m happy with where I’m at professionally. I wouldn’t have gotten that if I stayed in Austin, just like you wouldn’t have gotten as far in the Navy if you hadn’t gone to Annapolis.”

Jake stayed silent for a minute, his eyes looking everywhere but at you, avoiding your gaze. You could sense tension between the two of you. The Jake you knew growing up was never awkward, and never stopped talking - had he really changed that much since he’d left? You couldn’t see the Navy taming him to the point where he became reserved, Jake had always been so outgoing, so full of self-pride that it often came off as cocksure arrogance, but most of the time, it was out of sheer disbelief that he’d made it that far. You looked to him, his hands firmly in his pockets as he let out a huff, his breath turning to vapor in the cool December air. 

“I should really get going,” Jake nodded slowly, checking his watch as he looked back towards the street, “I promised Ma I’d help her set up.”

“Right, right, I’ll see you in a couple hours? Mama and I’ll be there.”

“Perfect, I’ll see you then,” Jake nodded, a warm smile on his features as he turned to start heading back.

You let out a heavy sigh, mentally kicking yourself as you realized you’d just let another opportunity to tell Jake how you felt slip away from you. As you headed up to your bedroom to get ready, moving quickly to dodge any questions from your mother, who was probably desperate to hear how your alone time with Jake had gone. 

You shut the door behind you, sighing again as you sat at your old vanity table, brushing through your hair and sectioning it with a claw clip as you began straightening it, trying your best to calm your nerves and make a decision on how you were going to approach Jake. You wanted to tell him, desperately, how you felt, but, part of you couldn’t help but cling to the fact you might regret it. That you might be disappointed and find out that Jake never felt the same about you, and that he never would. Or that he’d be in a relationship with someone else back in San Diego, someone prettier, younger, smarter, better. 

On the other hand, did you really want to commit yourself to never telling him how you felt? Letting the door shut on the one man you’d loved the longest, the most, and the hardest in your lifetime? Could you really be happy with anyone else? What if something happened to Jake while he was serving and you never got the chance to share how you felt? What if, somehow, there was the off chance he felt the same way about you?

As you finished your makeup, taking a deep breath as you looked yourself over in the mirror, you nodded your head. You had to tell him. There was no way you could let him go back to San Diego without knowing. You couldn’t let this go unsaid any longer, if for no other reason than to give yourself closure. If he rejected you, you could move on - or at least, try to. You could finally let go of your feelings and meet someone, and try your hardest to love them with the same enthusiastic, all-consuming love you felt for Jake. If he felt the same way, you’d apply for a job transfer to Los Angeles as soon as possible, because a three-hour drive was much more manageable of a commute to see him than a flight from Chicago to San Diego. 

This was it, you were going to finally do it. You just needed to get Jake alone.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ 

“Oh, Jenna! It’s been so long, how are you?” 

Bethany’s voice was sweet as honey as she spoke, wrapping her arms around you in a warm embrace, as if she’d been missing you for years and the sight of you reminded her of just how much.

“I’m great thanks, Beth, how are you? Your mama said you have two boys now? Easton and Dylan?” 

“Yeah, they’re 6 and 4, they’re little handfuls like their uncles, but I guess that’s to be expected when you’ve got Jake and Matt as influences for you. My husband’s not much better.” 

Bethany laughed as she gestured towards Jake playing with Easton? Or was it Dylan? Jake’s unmistakeable toothy grin plastered on his face, his green eyes alight with joy as he lifted his young nephew up, tickling him, the young boy’s laughter filling the air as Jake continued to make him laugh. Jake looked up to see you with his sister, smiling as he set the boy down on the floor, ruffling his hair with his fingers before making his way over to you. 

“Jenna! Hey, I’m glad you came.”

“Told you I would, didn’t I?” You laughed, shrugging your shoulders as effortlessly as possible as you tried to play it cool, praying no one saw through the front you were putting up.

“Hey, Jenna, can I…can I talk to you for a sec?” Jake asked sheepishly.

You couldn’t mistake the look on Bethany’s face, biting her lip to hold back a grin. You caught Jake giving her a stare that could make any person stop dead in their tracks, his green eyes practically piercing through his older sister as she tried not to laugh. As you nodded your head, raising your eyebrow at the scene unfolding before you. You followed behind Jake as he led you upstairs to his old childhood bedroom. When he opened the door, you were confronted with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. Old pictures adorned the wall, some including you and Jake as children, with ice cream covered smiles and skinned knees, baseball uniforms and halloween costumes, missing teeth and messy curls. 

“Ma hasn’t changed anything since I left home, I don’t even think she’s bought new bedding for this room.” He chuckled as he looked around the room, his large hands placed firmly on his hips as he stood in the doorway. 

“Still sleeping with those baseball player sheets you had as a kid?” You teased, eyeing the comforter on the bed, neatly made and pulled together, a sign of Jake’s time in the navy.

“You know it, I’m still a big kid, really,” He laughed, nodding his head as he pointed to a picture on the wall before looking over at you, “Remember this one? Your 7th birthday party, I think I snuck an extra little bit of frosting off your birthday cake and my mama almost killed me. She told me I had the table manners of a barn animal.” 

“You did, you used to chew with your mouth full too.”

“I grew out of it at least. I’m a little more civilized now.” Jake replied with a smirk, shrugging his shoulders as he turned to face you, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath before exhaling sharply. You could see Jake chewing at the inside of his cheek, nodding his head as his eyes met yours.

“I have to tell you something, ok?” He finally said, sighing heavily.

“I’m listening, Jake.”

“I should have told you this a long time ago, but…I love you.”

You sputtered for a moment, eyes wide in shock as he spoke. He frowned, clearly expecting a better reaction than what you’d given him. Jake shook his head and took your hand in his, stroking the back of your hand gently with his fingers, which were almost surprisingly soft and smooth to the touch.

“I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way. I don’t care if you just wanna be friends after hearing this, because even though the truth is, I'm scared to be your friend, I would rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you in my life at all. The last 17 years have been spent missing you and wishing I’d said something before I left. That I’d kissed you or held you, or said something, anything to you.” He frowned, nodding his head as he looked to the ground before continuing to speak, his voice beginning to tremble with emotion.

“I was stupid to just go and leave things there, but I’ve been paying for it ever since. No other woman has ever compared to you.”

Without another word, you gripped the front of Jake’s football jersey, using it to give you leverage to pull him in closer, your lips crashing into his just as he looked up at you to see what you were doing. Any initial hesitation either of you felt melted away into the kiss, your lips moving together passionately, Jake’s hands trailing their way down your sides to rest on your hips, pulling your body in closer to his. When he finally pulled away to catch his breath, he maintained a small distance between the two of you, speaking in a low whisper as he watched you bite your now puffy, kiss-bitten bottom lip.

“Is that your way of telling me you feel the same way? Because if you do, I want to take you on a date. And I don't care if it's in the day, or at night, or whenever, as long as it's a real date. And I wanna sit there and tell you how beautiful I think you are, Inside and out. How you’ve always been the most beautiful girl in the world to me, without a doubt. And I wanna have babies with you, and I wanna marry you, and I wanna tell you every day that I love you and I always have." Jake nodded, his cheeks blushing as he scratched the back of his neck again, waiting for your response to his rambling feelings.

“Jake, I’ve spent the last 17 years of my life waiting to hear you say that.”

“I know, I’m sorry, Jenna. I’m so sorry I made you wait.”

“Promise me something, Jake?”

“Anything you want, pretty girl.”

“Promise me you won’t make me wait that long again? I’m not sure I can wait another 17 years for you to ask me to marry you.” 

“Jenna, I swear to you, I’m not making you wait for anything ever again. I’d marry you tomorrow if I didn’t think my mama would have me committed for running off to get married three days after our reunion.”

“You’d marry me tomorrow?”

“With bells on, babe. With bells on. I’d marry you right here, right now, in my beat up Longhorns jersey, and drive off into the sunset with you in my truck if you wanted.”

“I don’t know about that, Captain Seresin,” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him as you felt his hands caress your sides, “As tempting as that sounds, we do have 17 years of lost time to make up for.”

“And I intend to make up for every single second of that with you, Jenna. Here, Chicago, San Diego, I don’t care. I just want you. All of you, completely and totally.”

[marikosenwrites]

karasuno boys - dating headcanons (pt. 2)!

a/n: finally part two i've been procrastinating this for like ages (at least a week or two) and enjoy!!

characters: hinata shouyou, kageyama tobio, tanaka ryuunosuke, sugawara koushi (suga-san🥹), sawamura daichi, tsukishima kei (TSUKKI🥹) [pt. 1], yamaguchi tadashi, takeda ittetsu (just me and one of my favorites), ukai keishin [and in that order] {pt.2}

pt. 1 || pt. 2

gn!reader

↳ ❝ [ 山口忠　YAMAGUCHI TADASHI ] ¡! ❞

-oh my goodness YOU SCORED THIS BOY??

-so innocent must be protected at ALL costs

-this boy confesses first ofc ofc

-kei helped >:D

-like "yamaguchi, you should blah blah blah" and stuff

-eventually you went on your first date which was a cafe date (this is new)

-ordered a pumpkin spice latte haha typical warm drink for yamaguchi i'd say

-HE GOT MILK ON HIS FACE AND YOU HAD TO TAKE A PICTURE OF HIM

-better get comfortable because you can't get rid of him anytime soon

-calls you his darling and you call him love

-yes yes sappy nicknames i get it i get it

-clings onto you if you guys have the time

-loves accompanying you to your class if you guys are in separate classes

-if not? always at your desk when there's free time

-kisses are so fluffy <3

↳ ❝ [ 武田一鉄　TAKEDA ITTETSU ] ¡! ❞

-he's protecting you now

-you have to be delulu and imagine yourself being a teacher at karasuno or a friend of his

-i mean you can be a total stranger that he met on the streets or at a bar or some shit (OK I NEED TO WRITE A FIC ON THAT) (REMIND ME)

-omg dude is he head over heels for you

-he confesses first (PROBABLY WHEN HE'S DRUNK OR SMTH)

-first date is uhhhhh (GIVE ME TIME) UHHHH AH YES LET'S GO WITH ICE SKATING

-i feel like ittetsu would be just average in ice skating

-if you're good then you would be helping him and if you're bad he's the one helping you

-you guys end up having dinner together too

-MAYBE ALSO A FEW DRINKS

-and he (kind of drunkenly) accompanies you back home

-like "bye byee, have a good night" and leaves for his own house

-texts you when he arrives home

-his text no. 1: "i just got home :) did you have a fun date?"

-no. 2: "i would love to meet up again some time soon for a second one!"

-no. 3: "IF YOU WANT TO OF COURSE"

-ofc you want to or else why are you here (I MEAN YOU COULD BE HERE FOR YAMAGUCHI OR UKAI)

-would be on first name basis after a while tbh

-HE IS UNDERRATED.

↳ ❝ [ 烏養繋心　UKAI KEISHIN ] ¡! ❞

-you're probably one of the karasuno alumni who's friends with him

-or a teacher

-or a frequented customer who has been missing his presence at the store because he's been coaching most of the time

-in this case i feel like you'd be the one doing all the confessing

-it's an instinct thing

-in which he takes time considering, since his jobs requires a lot of time and effort

-after about three to four days, he finally texts your number you left on the note you gave him

-"about your offer," he starts off, "can we set a date for it? i need to see if there's practice."

-"ah, don't worry about it!" came your response. "can we settle for the weekend? i have work."

-"i'll check with my mom later. 6-8 pm for now?"

-"sure, i'll hear from you later, ukai-san."

-eventually sets it at that date and you guys have a dinner date at a bar <333

-you both don't bother dressing up- it's a bar??

-like ittetsu, he's a gentleman

ending notes: TELL ME IF YOU WANT MORE KARASUNO CHARACTERS! gonna make my 50 followers even THEN the nsfw

©marikosenwrites 2024-25 all banners, dividers, and work. please do not steal. i own none of the HAIKYUU!!/ハイキュー！！ characters mentioned. reblogs, likes, and comments are welcomed. <3

[tkachuktkaching]

Matthew Tkachuk returns to Edmonton as Public Enemy No. 1

Tkachuk spent the first six seasons of this NHL career with the Calgary Flames, combating in the Battle of Alberta, the decades-spanning rivalry in which the Flames and the Edmonton Oilers would bludgeon each other to the delight of neighboring fan bases. It's a feud that stands next to any geographic rivalry in sports based on its championship prestige, Hall of Fame talent and unwavering vitriol.

Tkachuk remembers those rivalry games well.

"I guess I know them more than probably most guys by playing in Calgary," Tkachuk said. "But we just had the one playoff series against them that they won, and played a bunch in the regular season. There's a lot of different guys over there now."

Calgary traded Tkachuk to the Panthers two years ago. He has returned to Edmonton twice since.

"I know last year I was booed every time I touched the puck. This year there was nothing, so I have no idea this time," he said.

How close did Tkachuk come to becoming an Oiler? Four years ago, he told TSN Radio that they appeared ready to draft him before Dubois went to Columbus.

"During the draft, on the draft floor, it was kind of a weird moment where some people at the Edmonton table -- you could ask them, they would probably deny it -- but they're kind of staring me down and kind of giving me some smiles. The only people that saw it were me and my mom. So we're like, 'All right, we're going to Edmonton,'" he said. "Then Pierre-Luc Dubois went third overall, and the phone started to ring like crazy at the Edmonton table. They threw the jersey under the table and it looked like they stripped off a name and gave it to Puljujarvi with the next pick."

Tkachuk was drafted sixth overall by the Flames. The rest is (alternate) history.

TKACHUK SAID HE HAD "kind of like a Christmas Eve feeling" before the Stanley Cup Final, giddy with anticipation for trying to win the Cup after the Panthers lost in the championship round last season to the Vegas Golden Knights.

When asked about the Oilers, there was no trash talk, no bulletin board material.

"They're a great team. Finally got to watch some of their games against Dallas, since we were playing every other night. It was good to watch their games," he said. "They played really well and ultimately deserved to win the West. It should make for a great final."

After Florida went up 2-0 in the series with its Game 2 victory, Tkachuk was asked if the Oilers were rattled.

Again, he deferred.

"No, I don't think so. It's just sometimes the way it goes," he said, before leaving the media scrum.

The story of Matthew Tkachuk vs. the Edmonton Oilers is also a story of a young, brash superstar at the apex of his brashness who says he's a much different player today. Tkachuk speaks with pride about what he perceives to be the Panthers' maturity as a team and his own discipline on the ice, in contrast with how he'd played in the Battle of Alberta, for example.

"I'd say that used to be a part of my game. Now it's pretty nonexistent," he said. "I've kind of learned what works, and what works is playing as hard as I can for 30 to 45 seconds -- well, sometimes I take the long shift, so 30 seconds to a minute. There's no need to waste your time doing extra stuff."

Panthers coach Paul Maurice has cited the 26-year-old Tkachuk's maturity throughout the season, starting with how he approached this campaign after Florida's stunning run to the Stanley Cup Final last season.

Maurice said Tkachuk was part of the leadership group that got the Panthers locked in to their defensive game this season, which was a byproduct of missing Aaron Ekblad and Brandon Montour at the start of 2023-24 after surgeries. He said Tkachuk's attitude from the start of training camp help set the efficient, business-like tone of Florida's approach.

"Last year, I think we were just kind of riding the wave," Tkachuk said before the conference finals. "Going into this, we know what it's going to take to ultimately come out on top."

Tkachuk is tied with Aleksander Barkov with 19 points to lead all Panthers scorers. He hasn't had the soaring moments as regularly as he did last playoff run.

But Maurice is confident that Tkachuk is still capable of them.

"His game is better. He's more disciplined. He's matured with this group over two years. I think he's ... primed," the coach said. "I would never bet against him coming up with some heroics, but it's certainly not the only thing we have to expect now when we come to the rink from him."

Article taken from espn.com I Photos : Getty Images

[luke-hughes43]

surprise | luke and stella

this takes place like barely 2 months into them dating. and is really cute bc they are both still in that awkward phase.

~

stella's pov

so for columbus day weekend, i'm heading to michigan for a tournament and a visit with the softball program too. i was hoping to get to see luke but the timing of my games, his games, and then going to ann arbor, it just isn't working out.

but that's ok. i'm coming out for thanksgiving to see him anyways.

mom is coming with me to michigan and ellen offered to pick us up. i take a quick nap on the plane because as soon as we land, we're heading to the field.

it is borderline too cold for softball so i have my under layers on. i'm playing centerfield and in the leadoff position. we have a double header tonight and then a double header tomorrow. so lots of softball. and then sunday will be play until you lose and then i have my michigan visit on monday.

i'm hoping to be able to surprise luke at his game tomorrow night but we'll see how i feel. anyways, the game starts and it's going good. i'm getting good hits and making the plays in the field.

i get up in the 5th inning and bunt to get on. then i get the steal sign and take off for second base. i slide into the base and my cleat gets caught in the base and my knee twists. i hold my knee while staying on the base and the umpire calls time.

i still haven't gotten up yet and so my coach comes running out, "what's wrong? are you ok?"

"i twisted my knee when my foot touched the base. i think i'm good, i just need a second." i say and get up to my knees. i finally stand and just walk around a little bit. i do a little jog and tell my coach, "i'm good coach. hurts but i'm good."

"are you sure? i can sub you out so that you're good for the next game." he double checks. I nod, "i'm good."

he nods and goes back to the dugout and i get set at the base. the game goes on and we win the first game 4-2. my knee hurts the rest of the first game and all of the second game but i power through.

in between games, i'm icing my knee and both bella and avery (my bestest friends in the whole world) come over to me. bella asks, "are you ok stella?"

i nod and say, "yea. just hurts a little bit but i'll be ok."

avery says, "ok." and they just sit with me while i ice my knee and we gossip about everything going on at school before we have to get ready for the second game.

the second game goes fine, we win 2-1 but my knee kills. as soon as i get back to the dugout i take my cleats off and put ice on my knee. we had the last game of the night so i don't rush to get out. i lay on the ground with my knee propped up on the bench and ice my knee.

after i don't even know how much time passes, my mom comes in to the dugout and says, "hey honey. how's the knee?"

"it hurts but i'll be fine." i say with my eyes closed.

"ok. do you need anything from me?" she asks. i shake my head and then she continues, "ok. well honey, please hurry up. you have someone who wants to see you. and i think coach is waiting for you."

i nod and finally get up. i'm confused as to who would be here to see me but she does have a point that coach probably wants to talk with the whole team there. i put my sneakers on and grab my bag to head over to the team huddle. as i leave the dugout, i hear what sounds like my boyfriend say, "hey there superstar."

i turn and make eye contact with luke. he's here. oh my fucking god he's here. oh my god. i run over and hug him. he holds me tightly and kisses my head. i say against his chest, "i've missed you."

"i've missed you too stella."

we both pull away form the hug just enough to kiss each other. i smile into the kiss and hold him tight to me, not wanting to let go. i hear my coach yell, "zegras, let's go! kiss your boyfriend on your own time!" the girls giggle and so do i. i peck his lips and he says, "go. i'll wait right here for you."

i nod and hobble over to the team. the girls are giggling and bella elbows me. i smile and nod and listen to coach debrief the game. to be honest, i'm not actually listening. the only thing on my mind is luke luke luke.

i zone back just in time to hear coach dismiss us. i go straight back over to luke and into his arms again. not only because i've missed him so much but it's also cold as fuck. while holding me, luke asks, "how's your knee baby?"

"i'm fine. it hurts a little bit but i'll be ok. nothing i can't handle." i say into his chest. after like a minute, he asks, "are the two girls who are looking here every 30 seconds bella and avery?"

"yea." i respond quietly. i turn and wave them over. i say to luke, "and now you're about to meet them. bella is a guard dog and avery is really shy."

he nods and they come over. i say to them, "bella and avery, this is luke my boyfriend. luke, this is bella and avery. my best friends."

avery says quietly, "it's nice to meet you." luke smiles at her and bella says, "nice to meet you luke."

"you guys too. stella talks a lot about you guys. really good things." he says with a smile. avery smiles but bella's face remains the same, she's not impressed. she's very protective of me. she says, "so how do you expect to make long distance work luke? i know it's hard and i'll be the one picking up the pieces if you break her heart."

"i don't plan on breaking her heart. i know it's hard but we text almost everyday, we call twice a week. and have some trips planned to see each other. i promise bella, i really like her and i really wanna make this work with her. whatever it takes."

"good. because i have a bat and i will fly to michigan to hit you with it if you break her heart." bella threatens. i giggle and luke nods, "understood. plus, her brother is best friends with mine. if i break her heart, trevor knows where i live and will kill me."

"fair enough. you're acceptable." bella says and winks at me. luke smiles and holds me tight. my mom walks over and says, "hey honey. i'm gonna meet up with ellen and catch up. you're welcome to come but i imagine that you wanna stay with luke. he's welcome to come to the hotel tonight but he can't stay over. i'll text you when i'm on my way back. do you guys need a ride?"

luke shakes his head, "no thanks mrs. zegras. i drove here so i can take her back, it's not a problem." she smiles and heads off. luke tights his arm that's around me and i say, "i think we should go soon because it's cold and my knee hurts."

luke smiles, "we will stel. bella, avery, it was great meeting you guys and i hope to get to see you guys again. i'm gonna get her back to the hotel to rest and i might see you tomorrow but i don't know yet."

they both nod and we walk off to luke's car. he opens the door and helps me in like a gentleman. he starts the car and hands me the aux cord. i start playing music and he makes the short drive to the hotel.

once we get there, we go up to the room and i all but collapse on my bed for the night. luke laughs, "comfy?"

"yes. but i need to shower and i want cuddles." i say into the pillow. he chuckles, "go shower. then we can cuddle and you can ice your knee."

i nod and take a quick shower. i quickly change and immediately get into bed with luke. he pulls me tight into him and i rest my head on his chest. i say in almost a whisper, "i wish we got to this more often."

"me too. i hate that our time is always so limited." he responds. he rubs my back softly and kisses my head. i wrap my arm around him and cuddle as close to him as i can. i say, "yea. but next year we'll be on the same campus and you'll be so much closer."

"i know. just have to get there." he says. i nod and we just lay together in the silence. i must've fallen asleep because i woke up the next morning to my alarm blaring and luke gone.

here's to another day of softball.

(thinking this deserves a part 2 no?)

[agendabymooner]

about names: the wingman of maranello || cl16 scenario (2)

dad!charles leclerc x mom!ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

EXTENSION OF OF LONG LINES AND NAMES AND THE LECLERC DAYCARE

PART TWO OF ABOUT NAMES SCENARIO SERIES

Summary: The Leclerc boys and their names go hand in hand. OR times when Charles and his wife Aimee had to explain that their children’s names are meaningful. 

Scenario summary: With his brothers coming down to sickness, Jules Leclerc travelled to Italy with his father and Uncle Arthur prior to his next karting event before them as he learned more about the ‘Wingman of Maranello’ — his namesake Jules Bianchi.

Content warning: FLUFF!!!!! What is beta reading we write with no sense of proper grammar or transitions, kids' sickness, heavily mentions Jules Bianchi (+ Jules being a good sport and matchmaker), feel-good vibes, OC (Teague; OFC's relative), Uncle Arthur Leclerc is quite unattentive, possible use of explicit language, poorly translated French and Italian(?)

Note: I have two papers due in the next two weeks lmao. Enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

Charles and Aimee always thought that if it hadn’t been for their jobs, their kids wouldn’t have the chance of catching a case of stomach flu from countless germs in their school. 

They were meant to travel to Italy a week before the eldest Leclerc twins’ karting tournament occurring at the track in Maranello — but it seemed like PJ Leclerc’s class had another plan in mind. Now, two days after his last class of the week, he and his brothers Hervé, Anthoine and Alain (age two) were sulking at home. 

They weren’t allowed to travel to Italy until they felt better — after all, the parents didn’t want to be running around with kids who look sickly and would probably throw up every other minute. 

Hervé, out of the four boys, took that information to heart though. He was supposed to be with his twin brother as he, too, was going to compete in the karting event — with Arthur acting as his coach. He was excited to travel with his Da and Jules, but he started showing signs of a weak stomach. 

Aimee had promised that if he got better before the race they’d be able to travel to where Charles and Jules were. It was just a translation to, “Listen to Maman and drink your tea, eat your soup and take your medicine” but they’d decided to put it in a nicer way to avoid dealing with a stubborn seven year old. 

But as Jules placed his bag down after packing up, Hervé’s scowl turned light. His face was pale, but his face showed a lot about how he felt about his twin leaving.

Neither of the parents were paying attention to the two though. Arthur was somewhere in the house, saying goodbye to his younger nephews PJ and the twins. 

“Mon cœur,” Charles started, making Aimee hum as she washed the soup bowls. There was no right time to ask his question especially if he asked his wife this but it was a shot worth taking. “Since it’s just Artie, J and I heading there for the week I’m thinking—“

“Uh oh, that’s a bad sign,” Aimee joked, now rinsing the dishes. Charles chuckled and rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter next to the sink and his wife. He proceeded with his suggestion.

“What if we took the Pista to Maranello instead?” 

It was like his world stopped. Quite literally. 

Turning off the tap, Aimee’s grin faded as she scowled heavily in the direction of her husband. Charles’s usually widened eyes shrunk small as Aimee continued to bore her eyes into his pair. 

It was a bad idea to bring up his sports car overall.

With a scoff, she then said, “I want you to say those words slowly and understand what you just said.”

“Okay…” He nodded.

“Then I want you to think about how stupid that sounds,” Aimee smiled grimly. Yikes. He was a footstep away from being banished from his own bedroom. 

“Okay,” he said regardless.

“Don’t be stupid,” Aimee warned him, “you know that the Pista isn’t for the kids.” 

“I know,” Charles told her, his voice now hitting an octave as he defended, “to be fair, I wouldn’t put the kids in your McLaren either.”

“Darling,” Aimee laughed humourlessly, “we were thinking of two different things; I thought that they shouldn’t be allowed to ride it because it’s dangerous and you said that it was a McLaren not a Ferrari. Do you get what I’m saying?” 

“Right, alright,” Charles said with a shrug, “it was just an idea.”

“An idea that isn’t even worth looking at,” Aimee shook her head, “take the Aston or something— just don’t take any of the two seater ones. Do not ever let Jules sit on Arthur’s lap on a two-seater— he has to have a seat belt, Charles. If I find out that you took either of the Pista or McLaren I will come after your head— and you’re my husband. But I won’t hesitate to be a goddamn Black Widow if—“

“Okay, geez,” Charles interrupted with a roll of his eyes, “don’t need to threaten me. Still your husband, mon cœur.”

“Not going to be anymore if you do what you just said,” Aimee gave him a smile. It was a rather threatening one, and Charles should do anything but contest what he was told. 

Meanwhile Jules stood there and awkwardly patted his brother’s head as he said, “Tu te rendras à la course, Herb.” You’ll make it to the race, Herb.

Hervé grumbled and continued to sulk, “I hope so. Tia said that Louis is going to be there. And je n'aime pas perdre contre Louis.” I don’t like to lose to Louis. 

“Eh,” Jules shrugged nonchalantly, “you know what Maman said once? Uh… don’t take it personal? Is that what she said?” 

Hervé nodded as his twin brother continued, “Louis me taquine aussi. Je m'en fiche parce que maman a dit que je ne devrais pas me soucier des gens qui se moquent de moi. Cela m'empêche seulement d'aller plus vite dans la course.” Louis teases me too. I don’t care much because Maman said I shouldn’t mind people who make fun of me. It only stops me from going faster in the race. 

Despite being a twin, one of the things that differed Jules from Hervé was his level headed trait. It wasn’t as if he never showed any form of emotion to anything worth reacting to, but he seemed to reason more than Hervé. 

Everyone around them was quick to notice this and easily pointed out that he took this rational approach from Aimee, while Hervé got his sensitivity from Charles.

Still, Jules approached things differently than his twin — and his attempt to convince Hervé to see the things he’s seeing was something that most school aged children wouldn’t do. 

“So,” Jules told Hervé, “make it to the race not because of him. Remember! Auntie Vie raced for fun! Not because she wants to fight Uncle Max!” 

“Hm,” Hervé nodded, but kept his head down nonetheless. The eldest Leclerc boy looked up and murmured, “My stomach still hurts, J.” 

“Ah, I’ll tell Maman,” Jules nodded, “why are you up if your stomach hurts anyway?” 

“Alors je peux demander à Maman si je peux venir avec vous les gars,” so I can ask Maman if I can go with you guys. Hervé grumbled, tucking his legs in his hoodie as he groaned. “Ugh.”

A four hour drive to their accommodation in Maranello and a quick trip to the Ferrari headquarters after Charles, Arthur and Jules Leclerc were found in Charles’s in-site office. Or rather, Charles was somewhere in the facility having a meeting with the PR team and Carlos while his son and brother were in his office. 

Jules kept rolling over the chair from the desk to his Uncle Arthur, growing bored of the lack of things to do inside his father’s office. Arthur was just sitting there, his eyes hovering over his phone as he continued to browse through his twitter. 

“Da should have just left me with Maman,” Jules sighed, his head slumped against Charles’s desk.

Arthur hummed, not paying full attention towards the boy as Jules sighed in annoyance. 

Arthur wasn’t paying attention to him and Jules decided to mess with him a little, “Da could just drop me off the street and let me race by myself.” 

Nothing but an utter “Mhm” escaped Arthur’s mouth. 

“I’m bored, Uncle Art.”

Still nada.

“Herb said that he should have had Auntie Vie or Uncle Max coach him instead of you.” 

It was as if Arthur got a whiplash as his mouth gaped open at the boy’s comment. “Jules, is that true?” 

Jules shrugged, “No.”

“Then why say that if it’s not true,” Arthur exclaimed and heaved a sigh dramatically, “you scared me.”

“Because I’m booooored~” Jules whined, spinning himself while he sat on the chair of his father’s office. “Da left me here with nothing!” 

“Tell you what,” Arthur started, “why don’t we take a look around the floor and see if you can find the LaFerrari car to ride in? I’m sure they’d be more than willing to let you borrow it and drive around the office.” 

“Fine~” Jules hopped off the seat, not even bothering to wait for his uncle as he ran out of the office. “Race you to Da!”

“W- Oi! Jules Lorenzo Pascal- agh, wrong- Leclerc!” Arthur grunted before he stood up and ran after the boy. “You lots have a lot of names to even call you by them- Jules! Come back! Charles has a meeting!”

The Ferrari headquarters in Maranello was, no doubt, a place that held a lot of memories for the Leclerc family. Charles’ name was engraved in the wall of fame and Aimee’s family was strongly connected to the Ferraris. Their connections to the team — one that became their family — led them to what they had now. 

Everyone inside the headquarters were fond of the Leclerc boys and Jules was no exception.

For an hour, he’d been going around the office saying hi to everyone and asking about their day — in Italian, as well, to impress them with his ability to speak more than two languages. Then he went around asking about the LaFerrari that his Uncle Arthur mentioned earlier. 

Jules gladly toured the museum with his uncle rather than finding the car he’d asked about, his eyes glimmering at the sight of Niki Lauda’s car and even Enzo Ferrari’s. When they got to Michael Schumacher’s car, however, Jules nearly jumped up and down in excitement. 

His loud excited voice caught the attention of other onlookers in the museum. It was rather funny that he was so excited, because by the time people had approached them the excitement in his features had infected the Ferrari fans as they asked Arthur for photos. 

“Oh, I’ll take the photo!” Jules offered in excitement. 

“Jules no you have to get in the picture,” Arthur kept an arm around the boy and said, “how will people know that there are two handsome Leclerc men roaming around Maranello if you’re out of the picture?” 

And find out, they did. It wasn’t even an hour after when the fans posted their photos on Twitter and became a hit tweet because of the Leclerc boy. What was funnier aside from the caption “I met Jules Leclerc with his relative today” was the result that came with it. 

Charles looked quite frazzled trying to find his kid and when the fans saw the driver they nearly freaked out. Jules merely waved at his father and said, “They said they want some pictures, Da!”

Charles sighed and smiled at the fans lightly, his eyes finding Arthur’s as he warned his brother quietly about letting Jules in the pictures.

Jules was still a child, and taking photos of him without the knowledge of either Charles or Aimee was trouble you’re asking for. 

“Jules,” Charles started as he held the boy’s hand, making their way back to the office after having some photos taken, “Do not go far from the office when Da has a meeting, alright?” 

“But I only went in the museum, Da,” Jules reasoned out, “and Uncle Artie went with me!” 

“Well I’m glad you went with someone,” Charles shrugged, “but there is someone I would like you to meet.” 

“Oh! Cool,” Jules exclaimed. “C'est le père de maman?” Is it Maman’s father? 

Charles and Arthur shared a look over Jules’ head. Yeah no.

The boys had always mentioned that they’ve never met any of their grandfathers before. They understood why their Papy Hervé was not here anymore but Aimee’s father — Julius Hearth — was still alive. How come they’ve never met them? 

“Non, mais il est proche de maman,” No but he is close to Maman. Charles replied quietly, eventually coming to a stop in front of the conference room by the Scuderia Ferrari Team Principal Fred Vasseur’s office. 

Jules stood there, expectantly looking at his father as Charles gestured to the entryway. Stepping inside without looking away from his father, Jules finally looked in front of him as his glimmering eyes turned curious. 

A man sat there. There are some signs of age in his face, but Jules could tell that he was not older than his father. The man’s smile brightened the room, the shade of his skin brightening like the sun. 

Jules looked up at Charles, who only offered him a smile before telling him to keep walking. The man stood and stuck his hand out. 

“Last time I checked, you and Aimee were still new,” the man gave a teasing look to Charles, who only chuckled. His Scottish accent piqued Jules’ interest even more.

His Maman’s accent was different from his and as he continued to think about it, his cousins’ mixture of Austrian and RP accent wasn’t like this either. He’s from a different region, Jules deduced.

The man looked down and crouched, hand still stuck out as he spoke, “My name is Teague. Teague Edmunson. And you are…?”

With a face showing a mixture of curiosity and cautiousness, Jules looked back at Charles who only gave him a go-ahead before the boy reached out to shake the hand of the man and introduced himself, “My name is Jules Leclerc.”

“Ah! Jules?” Teague smiled softly as he gave a nod of approval towards Charles’ direction. “You named him Jules?”

“Yes, we did,” Charles grinned, his hand reaching out to mess with his son’s hair.

“Seems rather fitting,” Teague teased the Ferrari driver, “the Wingman of Maranello… Ah… he made you and Aimee possible after all.”

Jules’s face scrunched up in confusion, watching how his Uncle Arthur giggled and his father’s face flush red.

It was like he missed something. He wasn’t sure what but the way his Da’s turn red told him enough about asking him about the matter later.

“I’m sorry, mister,” Jules piped up, making the men look down at him with questioning looks. He proceeded to look at the man who introduced himself as Teague and asked, “My Da said that you know my Maman well. Can I ask what you are to her?”

“Jules,” Arthur called, “do you know one of your Maman’s last names?”

The boy shook his head, making Teague laugh quietly and answer with, “Edmunson, Little Bianchi.”

“You said that is your name,” Jules pointed out, making Teague nod. “So… if Maman’s name is Edmunson then you are her… brother?”

“Well… Not quite,” Teague shook his head before elaborating, “I’m her cousin. Don’t tell me your Maman had never spoken much of me? Charles?”

“Yes we have,” Charles scoffed. But all Jules seemed to have heard was that the man in front of him was his mother’s cousin. Then he recalled that one time he went browsing through his Maman’s childhood photo album.

He saw his aunts in those photos and even his Uncles Max and Lando. He knew that some of them grew up together, but there was one person that Jules once pointed out and it was a boy with a darker shade of skin and curly hair. The boy that he saw was sitting next to his Maman. 

Suddenly it all made sense to him. Aimee once introduced him to the photo of this boy as…

“You are Uncle T.”

Jules came to a conclusion, his lips spreading into a grin as it infected the whole room. 

“Yes, I am your Uncle T!” Teague confirmed, nodding eagerly. “Gah! I thought Aimee and Charles had forgotten about me. Or even your uncle Arthur!”

“I’d never forget about you, T,” Arthur scoffed.

Jules then turned to Arthur and said, “Uncle Arthur, you cannot even remember my full name! You have put my Pascal first before Blaise!”

“Ahhh, Arthur~” Charles gasped dramatically and looked at his younger brother. Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“I forgot about it once this noon and little Bianchi considers me a criminal for it,” Arthur muttered. “You and your Da, J. You like to give me a heart attack.” 

He stood next to his father while they both brushed their teeth, getting ready to go to bed for the next day. 

Jules had spent his day with Fred Vasseur and his Uncle Teague. It turned out that Teague was to work as an engineer at Ferrari after years of working at some firm in Luxembourg.

From what Jules learned, Teague never had the chance to visit Jules and his brothers due to his work commitments. Now, he’s had every chance to— and he did make sure that his time was well spent. 

“Da,” Jules spoke after rinsing his mouth, hearing a hum from Charles as he glanced at the older Leclerc. “On reverra l'oncle Teague?” Will we see Uncle Teague again? 

“Oui,” Charles murmured as he continued to brush his teeth. He spat the contents of his mouth and rinsed his mouth before he answered his son, “He will be there for your race, Jules.” 

“Ah,” Jules nodded in understanding. Silence was shared between the Leclerc boys before Jules asked, “Est-il proche de Maman?” Is he close to Maman?

“Very,” Charles nodded, “but he is not your Maman’s best friend though. He was…” 

Jules Leclerc, if you were to compare him to his twin and the rest of his brothers, was good at reading expressions. He could just tell that Charles wanted to tell him something but refuses to.

Jules always told himself that his Da got the look that his brother Hervé had whenever he was in the verge of crying or breaking down, and this was no exception.

So rather than bringing up the situation Jules went ahead and said, “Da, pourquoi l'oncle T a-t-il dit que mon nom correspondait?” Da, why did Uncle T say that my name is fitting? 

Charles’s expression changed as he snapped his head towards the direction of his son. “What do you mean?”

“I do not know,” Jules said before he tried to recall the events earlier, “he said uh… Il m'a appelé quelque chose… W- wingman?” He called me something.

“Ah,” Charles chuckled, shaking his head lightly before he grabbed the brush from the sink alongside a hair tie. He stepped behind Jules and began brushing the boy’s hair back. “The Wingman of Maranello.” 

“Oui! That!” Jules exclaimed, wincing lightly when he moved and his dad tugged on his hair lightly. Charles muttered an apology before Jules continued, “What does that mean?” 

“Uh… so,” Charles tried to speak but he couldn’t help but focus on the detangling brush on his hand as he continued to brush Jules’ damp hair. “Do you know- Maman t'a-t-elle parlé de la Saint-Valentin?” Did Maman tell you about Valentine’s Day? Jules nodded as Charles explained, “There is something called a Cupid. Now, Cupid— he matches people with others. To find someone to love.”

“Maman said that! She said that Cupid helped you and Maman!” Jules said as his eyes glimmered at the thought of Cupid doing their work— a masterpiece that the boy called his Maman and Da. 

“Yeah, well you see,” Charles chuckled, “long before Maman and I got together with the help of Cupid, we had something called the wingman. It’s someone who encourages you to talk to the person that you like.”

“Like Cupid?”

“Pretty much, but Cupid just helps people get together and love stronger,” Charles shrugged, “the wingman, in this case, helped me discover my love for your Maman more.” 

Charles smiled to himself. He remembered it vividly. 

BACK THEN

It turns out, being a student and a godson of a test driver — who was best friends with a stakeholder’s cousin — could lead him to a party at the Ferrari headquarters… and to her. 

Teague chuckled quietly before nudging Jules Bianchi slightly, earning a scowl from the Frenchman as he followed Teague’s line of sight, smirking lightly as Charles Leclerc — at the age of fifteen — blushed furiously and walked away from the golden skinned girl.

When the girl was out of their sight, Jules whistled as if to tease the boy. Charles gave Jules a glare as Teague laughed.

“Come on, Shal,” Jules grinned lopsidedly before he wrapped his arm around the Monegasque. “I think you should talk to her.”

“I already did,” Charles tried to shove Jules away from him, but the Frenchman was stronger than him as Jules laughed.

“Not that,” Jules shook his head, “maybe someday she’ll be your girlfriend~~”

“Jules, shhh-“ Charles hissed. 

“Careful now, Wingman of Maranello,” Teague piped up, “you might give my aunt a heart attack with all of your matchmaking.”

“I’ve done an alright job so far, don’t you think, T?” Jules winked at his best friend. “I’m sure your Aunt Amara wouldn’t mind having a handsome Monegasque for a son-in-law. It worked out so well with you and your girlfriend!

“Now Shal! Promise your best godfather Jules that you’d ask her out one of these days, hm? I’d be damned if you let go of a smart girl like her.” 

NOW

“So if I’m called Jules and he was your Uncle Jules… does that mean I get to play matchmaker too?”

Charles laughed aloud, finally tying his son’s hair into a bun before he wrapped his arms around his boy. 

“Why not,” Charles rolled his eyes before pressing kisses on his son’s face. “You can do whatever you want, little Bianchi. Just not anything that will send your Da or Maman to the hospital, hm?” 

Jules sighed contentedly, resting against his father’s chest as he looked at himself and his dad in the vanity. He then smiled and said, “I hope Hervé gets better before the race. Then Uncle T can see me and him race.” 

“I hope so, too, Jules,” Charles sighed quietly, patting his son on the shoulder before nudging the boy towards the direction of their bedroom. “Now off we go. We’ve a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Will I drive the LaFerrari this time, Da?”

“If your Zio Fred has someone to find it for you, then yes. Perhaps don’t crash around the office. It’s a busy day tomorrow.”

“Uh… okay. Maybe I can make that promise.”

“You can promise? So silly of you, Jules.”

[bitchinbarzal]

missing you, quietly — luca fantilli

warnings; mentions of death & suicide. read at your own discretion.

-

Nobody really remembers what happened that night. They were up by three in the second period, everyone was happy.

Someone, an officer administrator came out onto the bench and called over coach. He walked off and spoke to her before he returned, his face was white.

Nolan noted the whispers of the staff and he looked concerned but before he could ask what was going on, Naurato called the officials over.

They huddled up and mumbled to each other before the officials announced

“The game has been stopped per request of Michigan, all remaining minutes will be played after a period break”

Nobody knew what was going on as they traipsed back to the locker room.

“Coach what’s going on?”

He stood in the middle of the room and cleared his throat “We were just contacted by a member of campus police. A student has been killed on her way here this evening by a drunk driver”

There were immediate mumblings of who it was.

Brandon turned to Ethan who dropped the stick in his hand and scrambled for his phone. The sudden movements caught everyone’s attention.

“Ethan, buddy don’t-“ “No! No, it’s not her!”

Coach watched him as Ethan called you again and again with no response. Tears streamed down his face and coach sighed

“The student who was killed this evening was y/n”

Everyone walked to console Ethan while Luca sat in his stall, mouth opened and heart beating at what felt like a million miles a minute.

They never went back out to play. Michigan forfeited the game.

The days and weeks following your death were nothing short of painful and silent.

Ethan went home to be with his family in this time but ultimately it was decided the Edwards would hold a funeral for you in Michigan, that’s where you felt at home.

Luca didn’t talk much to anyone. Adam had made comment about it once or twice but their mom simply said “Luca’s an empathetic boy, Adam he’s probably just feeling sorry for his teammate”

He wasn’t. He was heartbroken over the death of the love of his life.

Luca attended the funeral service and sat in the back row, waiting until everyone had left to then approach the front and mumble through his tears

“I miss you, so freaking much baby”

He consoled Ethan on occasions, listening to him tell everyone nobody knew what it was like to be this upset. While Luca hadn’t lost a twin and he wouldn’t know that feeling, he so desperately wanted to shout out how he did know the sadness because he was sad too!

He didn’t. He stayed quiet.

Luca thought that by three months past your death, it was all over. He didn’t have to bite his tongue during commemorations of your life.

That was until the team were suiting up for practice one Wednesday morning.

"how you holding up, Eddy?"

Ethan shrugs "My moms still hysterical everyday but the police dropped off her phone to me on my way here" he says, waving your iphone around in his hand.

"You look at it?" Mark asks, slipping his jersey on.

"Nah, I don't know her password"

"It's you guys' birthday" is all mark replies, earning a skeptical look from Ethan but it works and Mark smiles

"She always let me use her phone for the aux in the car'

Ethan stands and scrolls through your phone. Your background was a picture of you and him on his draft day, the devils jersey in your hand while you looked so proud.

A few texts from friends and family members gone unread; mom, dad, even one from him he sent late the night you died begging you to call him and say it wasn't true.

then he landed on a text thread from 'my love

he clicked on it, eyebrows furrowed. There were messages sent since you died.

call me, tell me it isn't true

baby please, please be ok

I love you, come home

There were more he read through, still no idea who this person was. He clicked on the contact and dropped the phone, causing everyone to look over at him.

Ethan looked up, eyes scanning the locker room until they landed on who he'd been looking for.

"You son of a bitch! You were fucking my sister!"

Ethan storms across the room, out to hurt someone when he was held back by Adam, Luke and Mark

"Ethan stop, he was not!" Adam yells.

Luca gulps "Yeah... I was"

Everyone stared at him, he felt as if the walls were closing in on his chest.

Adam steps forward, protecting his big brother “Back off Edwards… I mean it”

Ethan scoffs “You were seriously fucking my sister? Dude what the fuck is wrong-“

“I was not! I wasn’t just- Jesus, fuck Ethan she’s dead stop being so fucking vulgar!” Luca screams, throwing his helmet across the room.

The rest of the boys take a few steps back.

“I wasn’t just fucking her, she’s not some puck bunny you dick! She was my girlfriend!”

Ethan scoffs “no, she would’ve told me”

“No, she didn’t want to because she was scared of how you’d react… clearly she was right!” Luca snaps, shoving past him and leaving the locker room.

Ethan stands with his chest heaving still “Can you believe him?”

Nobody speaks until Johnny stands up “You didn’t hear him Eddy, he screamed and cried that night I thought he was actually going to be sick and he couldn’t breath”

Ethan’s glare snaps to him “So you knew?”

“y/n used to tell you she was coming to study with me but instead they’d go out together” Johnny sighs “She liked him a lot and she didn’t wanna tell you because she was scared it would hurt the team”

Ethan doesn’t respond

“Luca tried to kill himself when you went back to Alberta”

At that, Adam’s head snaps to his teammate and Nolan goes to speak when Johnny continues “I found him real early in the morning with way too many pills and he was just scared and alone, he grieved her death for far too long all alone”

“Ethan, you aren’t the only one who was hurt when she died don’t be so hard on him, he’s already beating himself up too much already”

Luca didn’t speak to anyone for the following days, Adam had left food for him and his mom tried calling along with Nolan but he didn’t talk to anyone.

Ethan sat with your phone watching as the notifications came in from Luca, texts confiding in you as if you were on the other end still. It was when Ethan read the text;

you’re the love of my life, I’m feeling pretty lost without you.

That he knew, Luca had been suffering in silence.

Saturday came and the team were facing off against Ohio state for the first time since the night you died.

The teams had prepared a ceremonial jersey for Ethan to receive with your name and number on the other side. The girls team, your team were in the stands to watch too.

Luca was there early to avoid being in the room with Ethan.

By the time warmups had come and gone nobody had spoken to him. All a little concerned.

When the puck was ready to be dropped the lights dimmed and the announcer read

“Three months ago, when these two teams last played we lost a member of our Michigan family — y/n was a star hockey player, daughter, student and twin to one of our own. Tonight we gift her jersey to her twin brother, Ethan. To honour her by the people who love her most”

Ethan skated forward to collect the jersey and thanked those who gave him it. He placed it on the bench and the game got underway.

You were seemingly controlling the score for the team that evening because when the game finished 7-2 everyone said

“Hey look, seventy-two joined us this evening!”

Luca smiled, headed back to the locker room remembering back to you telling him how you got your number as you were all but one minute older than Ethan so you had a number one before him.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he walked back to his Stall only to find a maize jersey staring back at him.

Edwards

72

Luca didn’t speak, his fingers grazed the number before he looked back to Ethan, who was already staring at him with a soft smile.

It wasn’t much and nothing was going to fix this but it would be a little better now Luca didn’t have to miss you quietly.

[bomber-grl]

fluffy touch-starved Prompt #15 for Leo? His hair surely gets veeery dirty, after all!

Prompt #15: washing the other's hair

Leo told you about his past before, so you were very much painfully aware of his struggles. Particularly, in the romance department.

He told you how it was. He liked girls, they never liked him back. Plus with how he was couch surfing, affection was practically a foreign concept to him.

Sure, his friends showed they cared but your relationship isn’t just platonic, it goes beyond that.

Today you and Leo went your separate ways as usual. The two of you met while aboard the Argo II and became close.

Things are constantly a hassle while aboard, everything that could go wrong goes wrong and there was no thing such as luck while aboard navigating the ancient lands.

Luckily, amongst all the noise you managed to find peace and quiet to rest and have some solitude.

But, you soon heard a knocking on your door and thus your long awaited nap would have to be even more long awaited.

Upon opening the door, you noticed it to be Leo.

“Leo? What’re you doing here, aren’t you supposed to be sleeping by now?” You asked this but anyone who saw him could tell he was busy doing something.

“Well I was actually working on repairs, hence the dirt” he motioned to his entire being.

You hummed “well this might be weird and if you’re too uncomfortable then go ahead and ignore but do you want me to wash your hair?.”

He was clearly taken a back, even if only slightly then quickly answered “sure, I wouldn’t mind.” It was strange to see Leo not teasing you but you just assumed it to be the tiredness and moved on.

You gently led Leo into one of the bathrooms on board by hand, the hope of not running into Coach Hedge was left unsaid.

Immediately you had him propped against the sink on the most comfortable seat you could find aboard.

As you went to get a shampoo you hear Leo’s voice echo from the bathroom “what made you want to wash my hair?”

The question was phrased in a way that’d seem sarcastic but his tone indicated genuine curiosity.

“Well, I guess I just wanted to wash it? There isn’t really a reason, Leo. I just want to do something for you in the little free time we have.” Leo didn’t say anything else.

You carried the shampoo and poured some onto your hand, you turned the water on and began running your fingers through his hair.

Slowly but surely some dirt and soot came out, not as much as you expected that’s for sure.

Leos sudden sigh brought you out of your thoughts. “What’s wrong?” You asked to be sure everything was alright.

“Nothing, I’m just enjoying this, no one’s ever washed my hair before.” You had placed a towel over his face to prevent water from getting on it, thus obscuring your view of him.

You hummed in acknowledgement and he continued “I know it’s just a simple favor but it’s just been a long time since anyone’s done anything for me ,to make me happy.”

You knew it was true. His mom was probably the last one to genuinely show him any love, that alone was sad, it had been eight years. Plus, as mentioned before, he didn’t really date. He was clearly referring to both.

You didn’t say anything and just continued washing through his hair until it the water ran clean of any bubbles.

Then, you left him alone to wash his body, he was still dirty after all.

Eventually he made his way back into your room, you noticed when the door shut with a click.

“Hey” Leo began “I hope the talk about not being able to pull didn’t upset you” he tried making light of the situation.

“It didn’t, but you don’t have to hide behind jokes either” you said this patting the space next to you in bed.

He shut the lights off and laid besides you. You laughed a bit “let’s hope coach hedge doesn’t find us like this.”

Leo also let his own laugh out and eventually you both settled. “I’m just happy you’re here with me right now.”

You smiled despite knowing there was no way for Leo to see it. You moved your hand closer to him and it found its way into Leo’s. Your fingers interlocked and you only hoped that with your fingers intertwined, that he’d get the sentiment.

No words were spoken and you both drifted off to sleep land. Eventually, your bodies found themselves snuggled up against one another.

Was there a possibility of being found out and banned from being alone? Sure but even if you did get found out you didn’t care, you just wanted Leo to feel loved.

[doudouneverte]

Unfinished task

a/n: it took me a lot of time to finish it sorry...

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Lena Oberdorf x AWFC!Reader; Arsenal WFC x NEDWNT!Reader

Summary: Based on this (requested by anon)

Type: Fluff

Warning: me,tion of heart attack and nothing else (i think)

word count: 4983 (sorry)

----------

2018/19

This season, everything changed for you. To start, you made your first step and scored your first goals in Frauen Bundelsiga for Essen with your best friend Lena Oberdorf. Talking about the German player, you and her were known to be pretty close; your mom raised you alone, and she was not very surprised when you told her that you wanted to play football. Growing up in a family of football fans who had some relatives who played with the legend Johan Cruff helped. You started with a boy team, and that's where you met Lena; she was also a girl, pretty good, and despite her roughness on the pitch, you quickly became friends. She was a solid midfielder when you were a more agile and versatile player.

Life couldn't be better for you, but that's when we're talking about the second reason this season is so special for you. A few weeks before the end of the season, you planned to take a new step in your and Lena's relationship. You started to see her as more than a friend a few months after she assisted one of your goals. But life is not always so simple and so great.

In May, during a training session, the coach told you that your mom had a heart attack at work. Her life wasn't in danger, but they allowed you to leave earlier. At the hospital, the doctor told you that your mom overworked, and this was certainly caused by the stress. Your mom didn't tell you, but you knew she worked more than necessary to be sure she could attend your game without any work left to be able to celebrate with you every time you win.

But the worst happened when the doctor told you that she would need an aldut around to make sure it didn't happen. Another adult—that was the problem. You never really met your father; your mom divorced him when she learned that he cheated on her when she was pregnant. Of course you could call your grandma, but she was in Netherland, and you knew she was a little too old to keep an eye on you and your mom, and then the only available option was your aunt Marina.

After you called your aunt, she immediately booked a flight. You knew that in this situation, you had to do something you would probably regret your whole life. You had a meeting with the coaching staff to ask them something, and just before your last match, you had your response: at the end of the season, after only a few matches, you'd be a free agent and leave the country.

The girls knew nothing about that—well,  maybe just one, but you knew that if you had told her, she would make you doubt, but you couldn't. It was only when you were at the airport that you wished her good luck for the next season and told her about your departure.

2019/20

It's been more than two years since you left Germany. Of course, at first things weren't easy; you spent the first part of the 2019–2020 season literally jobless. You didn't have clubs; you continued to train on your own, but you spent almost all your time helping your aunt at her work. That was like this until you ran into someone you didn't expect to see after all these months: Vivianne Miedema, and she wasn't alone; she was with Jill Roord and Danielle Van De Donk.

Of course you knew who the forward was; she was literally one of your models when you started your career, but what you didn't know was that she knew you. After a few talks, you explained to her why you were not in Germany and, more importantly, why you hadn't played since the start of the season.

They were truly sorry for you and said they wished they could do anything, but you assured them that they couldn't do anything for that and that you would eventually try to found a new club even if you had to spend the rest of the season training by yourself. Apparently they decided to take things in her perfectly because only a few days later you received an unexpected call to let you know that after the three Dutch players talked about you to their head coach, Arsenal was open to giving you a chance, but you'd have to wait until the winter transfer window to offiacilize everything wich you accepted without thinking.

Until then, you continued your routine: help your aunt in her job—well, being not really qualified for it meant you just moved boxes all day, and after that, you spent some time with your mom and sneaked out in the night to train. That was like this until you signed. In Germany, Lena was attracting the interest of a few clubs when she saw the news. She wasn't really attracted to the WSL until then, and honestly, if it weren't for random posts on her Instagram feed, she would surely have missed it.

The midfielder wanted to call you to tell you that she was proud and happy for you that you could play again after what happened, but she knew you wouldn't reply. It was selfish, but since you moved, you gradually stopped speaking to your ex-teammates. At first, you said to yourself that was because you would probably drop the football a few months after you landed in London, but you finally accepted the reality. You didn't want to have anything that reminded you of the incident, but you were also too cowardly to say all the things you never said to her.

Your debuts were pretty good; of course you started on the bench, but when the coach gave you your chance, you took it. You even scored in your first London derby against Chelsea, and even if you lost, everyone could see that you were more talented than anyone else. But unfortunately, COVID came, and with that, the end of the season.

2022/23 

A lot of things happened during those three years: first, your mom found a new job in your aunt's company; second, you signed another deal with the London club; and finally, the most important thing: you made your first steps for your national team. Being a Dutch player raised in Germany, the two federations wanted you in their team, but you decided to represent your mom and also spend more time with Viv, who had basically become your big sister since you joined the Gunners.

And it was with your oranje kit that you properly saw Lena for the first time in almost four years. Yes, Arsenal faced Wolfsburg last season in Champions League, but you were injured, so you couldn't play. During your pitch inspection, you noticed someone staring at you. You tried to distract yourself by talking with Esme and Vicky, but you were cut off when Lynn and Jill said that some of their Wolfsburg teammates wanted to meet you.

If Viv was your calm and collected big sister, Jill otherwise wanted to be the cool one. She always did some dumb thing to make you smile and see her as cool as she was. Lynn quickly grew into a very close friend of yours, even with the distance. After reluctantly agreeing, you made your way with the two girls to the German players.

Here you were in front of Lina Magull and Sydney Lohmann, who just got kicked out of the Champions League because of you, but like Jill said, there were also some Wolfsburg players, and that's how you found yourself shyly waving to Alex Popp, Feli Rauch, Svenja Huth, Jule Brand, and the only real familiar face, Lena Oberdorf.

Except for Viv (who was not there), Jill, and Dom (who knew how to put two and two together), nobody really knew about you and Lena. Well,  some knew you played together, but nobody knew you were very close friends, and you messed up (almost) everything after you moved to London.

"Guys, this is Y/n, she's a little shy, but she's very good on the pitch." Jill introduced you proudly.

"We already know that." Lina said, and you looked at your feet.

"Sorry," you mumbled, "but you are very good too." You added a little, unsure of what else you could say.

"Wait, are you the same Y/n who played for Essen with Lena?" Jule asked, and when you saw Jill smirk, you knew it was something she planned.

"Uh, yeah." You looked at Lena "Yeah, it was a good moment." You smiled lightly, but it was enough to be noticed by the midfilder. Something in you wanted to pull her away from anyone and tell her that you were sorry about everything, but before that, you had a game to play.

The game went pretty well, even if you lost only 1-0. You showed one of your best performances on the pitch until you got subbed off. After the final whistle, you made your way to congregate with the opponents. When Sydney asked for a jersey swap, you accepted, and the Bayern player was floating in your jersey. Her teammates didn't miss the opportunity to comment on what made Lena feel something—something she thought she had been above for a while now.

In the tunnel, you were talking with Dom when Lena came, slightly interrupting you, but the older Dutch player didn't seem to be bothered by that. "Can we talk?" She asked, and you nodded before following her. "So..." she started before pausing for a moment. "You played really well."

"Thanks, you too. It reminds me of when we were in the old time." You responded and almost instantly cringed at your word choice "Well, it's not that we're so old or anything; it's just that..."

"It's just that it's been a while since we've seen each other."

"Yeah, that's it." There was a little silence after your reply, like you were both processing what you just said.

"You...you've changed a lot since 2019."

"Uh, yeah, I grew up a little."

"And you did a little work out?"

"Oh that's? It's a funny story; when I went to London, I was free of any club, and I started to work for my aunt's company, but she just assigned me to the physical job, and after I signed for Arsenal, I kept doing this, and here I am now." You chuckled lightly at the end.

"I think it's funny that when we were little, I was the one who looked like a boy, and now look at you...you're...handsome." You lowered your head, hoping that Lena didn't see you blush at her compliment.

"Thanks, you are beautiful too." Now it was her turn to blush. "Maybe one day we should—" you couldn't finish your sentence before Alex called her teammate "I think it's our cue to leave," you said, and she nodded and quickly hugged you before she left.

Later this night, you sent her a DM on Instagram. You talked a lot, and before you forgot, you gave her your new phone number. Back in London, you were still in your little cloud until Vicky reminded you that your next opponent in the Champions League would be Wolfsburg, but before that, you had a game against Manchester United, where you unfortunately lost Leah.

At the end of April, you were in Germany, ready to play one of the biggest games of the season. The two teams made their way onto the pitch, and like everyone except  you were on the starting eleven. It was funny to see you being almost taller than every player, knowing that you were one of the younger. Your job today was to stop Sveindis' offensive and try to assist Stina in the box.

What should be a hard game became almost impossible when you were tackled by Lena for the first time rather early in the match. Lying on the grass, you took a moment to stand up until two people held you theirs hands. You unconsciously took one of them, and instantly, when your skin touched others, you felt a familiar warmth. On your feet, you were not disappointed when you saw Lena in front of you. She seemed a little worried, but you reassured her with a smile and a gentle tap on her shoulder. That was something she used to do every time an opponent was rough with you, and it became your thing to show that you cared about each other.

The match didn't go as planned, but you still gained a draw before the game at the Emirates. Back in London, you proposed to Lena that you see her before the next game. You told her that your mom wanted to see her. You felt relieved when she finally accepted, and now you had to wait a week to see her.

One week later, you were in your bedroom, emptying your wardrobe with Viv and Beth, trying to choose an outfit for the day. "Well, why don't you try the outfit that Daan brought you for your birthday?" the Dutch asked.

"I lost it," you instantly replied.

"How can you—" Beth started before being interrupted by another voice.

"Y/n always lost or forgot things," Jill said throught your phone. She proposed to help you with Lynn, so you facetimed them a few minutes ago, but they were more focused on whatever the young Dutch was watching on her phone. "Do you remember when she almost forgot her boots before a Champions League game?"

"Oh, come on, it was once," you groaned.

"Yes, but if Viv wasn't there, you would have spent the game on the bench." Beth reminded you.

"Okay, I think we got it; now can we focus on the really important thing?"

"Yeah, girls, let's focus. We're talking about Y/n's first date since a while." Lynn said, and you groaned again.

"It's not a date; it's just a lunch with my mom." You said.

"It's not?" The two girls thought the phone asked at the same time. "So why do you need us to pick an outfit?" Jill added.

"Because...because I promised to my mom that I'd try to wear something other than a jogger, and it's been a long time since I spent a whole time almost alone with Lena, so I want to look good."

"If you want to look good, you can just go without a shirt." Jill joked, making Lynn and Beth laugh, while Viv just sighed. Sorry, but well, you built a good body, so why not show her?"

"Is that even a serious question?" Viv asked while you picked some clothes in the big bazaar.

"Okay, I'll be right back," you said before exiting the room. The girls were talking until you received a text from Lena. Well, from what your teammates could see, 'Obi💪🧸'.

Obi💪🧸:

Ich bin auf dem Weg (I'm on my way) 

You came back just when Viv was about to call you. Your two Arsenal teammates looked at you; they didn't say anything; they just let you get a little unsure if it was a good choice of cloth, but when you were about to speak, you heard Lynn and Jill cheering you on the other side of the phone.

"Go catch the girl," the midfielder said, and you rolled your eyes before you took your phone and saw the text from Lena. You didn't wait more before you left a little anxious, even if you didn't know why.

This afternoon was perfect; your mom was more than happy to see Lena again, and she didn't miss embarrassing you in front of her. When you drove her back to her hotel, you took some time to apologize about your departure a few years ago, but she told you that it was okay because she knew you couldn't do something about that. And after that, there was the game in London.

-----

At the end of the game, you lost 2-3. You were more than gutted, of course; you conced a goal in the last minutes of extra time. The Wolfsburg players came to congratulate you, and even if you found it cruel, you were still professional. Dom stayed with you until she was sure you were okay. Of course, Viv, Jill, and Lynn also came to check on you. You were trying not to be too emotional when Lena approached you. The Dutch players exchanged a look and gave you a quick glance to make sure you were alright before they let you with the German midfielder.

In this moment, a lot of thought invaded Lena's mind. She wanted to hug you to tell you it was okay and you fought pretty well, but she also knew that as someone who plays to win, it was not something she would want to hear herself. So she just gently rubbed your arm and gave you a weak smile. It was fascinating that even after all these years, she still understood you so much. "It was a tough game," she said, and you nodded. "I'm very happy and proud to see you play again, even if it would be better if we played together."

"You can come play here," you remarked, making her look at you with wide eyes. "I mean, if you want, of course. I don't want to force you to leave everyone; it's just that I miss playing with you too." You confessed, "And I'm sure you'd kill it in red." You joked.

"Thanks, but I'm not ready to leave my green shirt for now. But..." she started, making you raise your eyebrow to her. "But you can let me try yours to see if you're right." she explained. It took you some time to process what she meant, but when you did, you couldn't stop a little smile from appearing on your face.

"Very smooth, Oberdorf," you replied while you started to take off your shirt. Today was not particularly hot, but Lena sensed a hot wave rising in her body until it reached her face, and she started to blush. "And here for you," you said, holding her your shirt. Her eyes lost themselves a little on your tall figure before she took it and "maybe" brushed your fingers together on purpose.

She thanked you, and when she was about to take off hers, you stopped her. You didn't say anything until you quickly walked away toward Dom, who was talking with Feli. Lena had her eyes fixed on you through the entire process when you talked to the defender before she left you with her teammates and then came back with what seemed to be a Wolfsburg vest that she gave you, and you made your way back to your best friend.

"Where were you going?"

"I just needed that," you said, showing her the vest.

"For?" You covered her with her vest just enough to let her take off her shirt, protecting her from the public's view.

"Wow, did I miss an episode or something?" Vicky asked some players next to her when she saw what you did. The women around—who were basically all your team and some of Lena's teammates—turned their heads to where the Dutch were looking.

"Oh, Daan will really like that." Lynn was visibly excited to tell your national teammates that.

"Are they dating?" Gio asked.

"No, not yet, but don't worry," Jill said just loud enough to be heard by Dom, who was next to her and earning a strange look from Viv because of the expression she was making.

After your jersey swap, you walked with Lena to where you let almost everyone. You were close, but not close enough to permit anyone to misinterpret anything. Sometimes your arms would touch her while you were walking, and those little touches made you feel something deep in you. In the tunnel, you stopped her a little far away from the group, and the German looked at you with a confused look.

"Can you promise me something?" You started, and when she nodded, you continued, "Promise me that whatever happens in the final, you will not win."

"Yeah, I promise—wait, what?"

"Yeah, you heard me."

"But I want to win."

"And me too, but I want you to win the Champions League with me. That was your idea when we were little," you reminded her, and she laughed.

"I can't promise you that."

"Well, at least I tried," you joked. "More seriously, good luck for the final; I will come to see you."

"Thank you, and I wish you come. It would be different if you can't be there."

Later on the bus, Lena was questioned by a lot of her teammates. She knew that even if they were tired because of previous events, they wouldn't stop until they had their answers. But even if the German plaeyer was more than happy from your last interaction together, she felt like it was too soon to hope about something, despite all the teasing from her teammates and Jill's confession about the fact that she didn't see you so comfortable around someone other than Dom and Viv. While the midfielder was stuck with everyone's attention, the Dutch defender texted you, first to know how you were doing after you had to leave the pitch because of a bad tackle and then to ask you something about one of her next matches.

----

Two days later, you were told that your little injury would make you miss the next two games. You mentally cursed yourself because you knew when you went to the ball that you wouldn't avoid getting hit by the defender. Tryin not to overthink, you asked to take at least one week for you, which the coach was happy to give you. You used this week to help Laura and Leah with their injuries; you also spent some time with your mom and your aunt before you booked a flight to Germany. You don't know how, but your mom told you a few days prior that someone sent you a ticket for the DFB-Pokal final between Wolfsburg and Freiburg.

At the airport, you were surprised to see Lynn and Jill waiting for you. They helped you with your luggage, and they explained to you that the ticket was Dom's idea. Of course it was hers; she always perfectly knew how to read you, so when she saw how Lena talked about you and how you acted, she knew for you that somehow you may have the chance to finish what you couldn't a few years ago.

On the day of the final, the VfL locker room was more secretive than usual—at least that's what Lena was thinking. Except for Lena, all the players knew something special could have happened today. Sensing the weird atmosphere and some gazes on her, the midfielder asked Jule what was happening, but after a quick glance to her teammates, she found the courage to keep her mouth shut, even if it was more suspicious. But the short brunette didn't have too much time to think about it because they had to warm up before the kickoff.

The game started like usual, and at halftime, the two teams were 1-1. Even if the girls in black and green were a little pissed by the result, they were more concerned by something else: Lena hadn't spotted you in the crown yet. But it was a good thing; that meant she was totally focused on the game and nothing else. Back from the locker room, fifteen minutes later, you saw Lena talking with Sveindis, and the midfielder seemed to sense your eyes on her because she suddenly stopped and was about to search for a reason for this strange feeling, but she was met with Alex instantly. The striker looked at her teammates with a confused look before Lena shoved the strange feeling away and made herself ready for the second half.

Like you expected from them, Wolfsburg easily won at the end of full time. The joy quickly erupted from one side of the stadium, and of course, you were among the ones who were celebrating. After a few minutes, you waited for them to give both teams their medals and the cup for your best friend's teammates, and then you were escorted by a guy from security to the pitch to your own surprise. Once on the pitch, you were quickly dragged to the group of players by Lynn, and there you congratulated the girls until you found yourself behind a certain number 5. Ewa Pajor was talking to Lena until she saw you; she just looked at you and excused herself to her teammates.

A little confused Lena decided to search for Jule, but when she took a step back, she collided with someone, and when she turned around to apologize, she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She blinked her eyes quickly, making you laugh, and when she heard your voice, she finally found her voice back. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Oh, rude. I thought you would be happy to see me," you replied.

She stood there for a moment, processing everything, and when she came back to her senses, she enveloped you in a tight hug. It took you by surprise, but you finished by reciprocating the hug. With her, everything seemed easier. The little touches, the confessions, the hugs and–and now it clicked in your mind, an almost forgotten feeling.

"I thought you wouldn't see me play until June, but wait, aren't you supposed to have a match this weekend?"

"Yeah, but thanks to a certain defender, I sprained my ankle, so I can't play for now, but I should be alright for the next week." You informed her.

"Oh, that sucks" she commented.

"Yeah, but I should be back in training the next Monday," you assured her.

"I see," she said, looking around to see a lot of eyes on her. "Uh, actually, it's cool that you are here because there is something I have wanted to ask you for a moment now."

"Uh, yeah, me too, actually." You smiled when you saw her surprised expression, but you couldn't brush away all the attention. "Do you mind if we go somewhere a little more calm?" She nodded, and you followed her a little farther in the tunnel. You stood there for a few seconds without saying anything; you were just admiring her. "So, first, congratulations for your victory; it was a great game; you played very well, like always." She blushed at your praise, "but I'm here for another thing. I want to tell you something, but please don't interrupt me until I finish, right?" After a little hesitation, she nodded.

"Okay, I don't know where to start, so I'll just start from the beginning. I wanted to apologize again for letting you go without telling you anything a few years ago. I know you already accept my excuses, but I need to tell you why I did what I did. At first, I planned to ask you out for the end of the season, and then it happened what happened but I didn't have the courage to talk to you about it because I feared that somehow you would reject me, so I used my travel as an excuse to stop talking to you. But then, there was this friendly game when I saw you, and when you didn't seem to be angry by that, I realized that I messed up. And after that, there was our first game in the Champions League, and my crush for you came back. Well,  it's not really a crush; it's a strongest feeling. It's like I'm–"

"In love?" Lena interrupted you.

"Uh, yeah, but how do you?"

"Because I feel it too. Honestly, I should be angry about everything, and I was when you left me, but then I learned what happened with your mom and I saw you play for Arsenal, and it was like all the anger dissipated because I had seen you for a long time and you seemed happy. I wanted to ask you out too before you moved out, but I never had the chance. I don't even know how long I've fallen in love for you, but I don't know it's—I don't know."

"It's easy?" You asked, and her look told you that it was exactly what she was searching for. "Me too. I don't know why, but it's so easy to fall for you. I don't know if it's because of your eyes, your smile, your heart, or everything, but yeah, I love you. So, after four years, I can finally say this: Lena, would you go with me tonight on a date?"

The midfielder wrapped her arms around your neck before slowly approaching your face. She gave you enough time to push her, but when you didn't, she kissed you. You only pulled appar when you needed some oxygen, and Lena was giving one of her brightest smiles.

"So?" you asked when you remembered she didn't give you a proper answer.

"I would love to."

"Great, I'll pick you up at 7 p.m." you said before quickly pecking her lips when you heard some footsteps coming in your direction. Lena's teammates found you totally engulfed in Lena's little body. You saw Jill and Lynn exchanging excited faces while Dom seemed to be proud of her work.

After the team saw the two of you, you were required by almost all the youngest players and Jill to explain what happened. Dom stayed behind with a blushing Lena: "I told you," the denfender told her. The midfielder just looked at her and gave her a hug to thank her.

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Despite his best efforts, Bradley hadn't stopped thinking about you since Monday. When Bob decided they needed a Team Mom, he sees an opportunity he can't pass up. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

When Bradley arrived on base Tuesday morning, he saw Bob right away.

"I can't thank you enough, Rooster. Piper had so much fun yesterday, and I really think this is going to be good for her. The other kids seemed excited too."

Bradley zipped up his flight suit and grabbed his helmet. "The kids were easier to instruct than I expected. They made it fun." His mind automatically pictured Everett. And Everett's mom. 

"So you'll be back for practice on Thursday?" Bob asked, reaching for his own helmet.

Bradley scoffed. "You think I'm going to bail on the Tiny Eagles? No way. We have a championship to win, and I plan on being named coach of the year."

Bob laughed. "That's the spirit."

Nat strolled over, sipping coffee inside the hangar even though you weren't supposed to. "How was pee wee football?" she asked with a smirk.

"We've been over this before, Phoenix," Bob said with a sigh. "It's tee ball."

"She's just fucking with you," Bradley said, looking from side to side before he stole Nat's coffee and took a big sip.

She groaned in response. "Just finish it," she told him. "So, tee ball? How was that?"

"Fun!" Bob exclaimed. "Piper loved it. All the kids were great. And all the moms came up at the end of practice to introduce themselves and tell us we did a great job."

Nat burst out laughing as Bradley finished her coffee. "Yeah... I'll bet they did! They would probably love to show you two even more gratitude."

Bob looked confused, but Bradley just smiled against the coffee cup. "Moms are not my type. I told you that already, Nat." But he felt like such a liar. He could picture you so clearly in his mind, and he could remember how your voice sounded. Really, he was more excited about practice on Thursday than he should be, simply because you and Everett were going to be there. 

Maybe he would wear a Phillies hat to match with Everett.

"Rooster... every woman is your type," Nat said, patting him on the shoulder as she grabbed her helmet and headed for her Super Hornet. 

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

Work was insanely busy, and Thursday arrived before you knew it. You were still answering client emails when Frank knocked on your door at lunchtime. 

"Come in!" you called, and thankfully he brought you a sandwich. You jumped up at the prospect of actually having something to eat, but Frank wrapped you in his arms before you could take a bite.

"I've missed you all week. You work too hard," he whispered, placing a soft kiss next to your ear. "Wanna come over this weekend?"

You should say yes, especially since Everett was going to have a sleepover at your sister's house. Plus, this would be your last free Saturday for a while, since tee ball games would be starting up.

"I'll have to let you know," you told him as his lips connected with yours. 

But you were thinking about how it might feel to kiss Coach Bradley with his mustache.

Where had that thought come from? You let out a startled gasp, and Frank slipped his tongue between your lips. 

Bradley would definitely be a better kisser than this.

"Frank," you managed to say. "I'm starving, and I have so much work to do."

He sighed and squeezed your waist through your suit. "Try to come over this weekend, okay baby?"

You just nodded and unwrapped the sandwich as he left. Only four more hours until tee ball practice. You couldn't believe you were as ridiculous as the other moms, but here you were, thinking about your kid's coach while you ate lunch. 

But it didn't stop there. After you picked Everett up at school, he rambled on about tee ball and his coaches for the entire drive to the ballfield. And you started thinking about Bradley again.

"Can we go see the Phillies play again this year?" Everett asked as you pulled into the parking lot. 

"You know, Ev, it was supposed to be a surprise. They play the Padres on a Sunday afternoon, and I've been planning on getting us tickets."

After hesitating for a beat, you parked next to the Bronco again, which you were smart enough to know was a really dumb thing to do.

"Yes! Can we take Coach Bradley with us too?"

You pressed your lips together and shook your head. "Sweetie, he's your coach during tee ball hours. I don't think he's going to have time to go to a baseball game with us." 

Everett jumped out of the car and looked up at you as you took his hand. "But he likes the Phillies. I think he might want to go."

Once again you changed into your sneakers while you walked across the grass. You didn't want to get your son's hopes up, and you couldn't help but think that he wouldn't be so starved for attention if Danny came around more often. Your ex was legitimately the worst. 

"We can talk about it later, okay?"

You almost tripped over your own feet when you looked up and saw Bradley. He was talking to one of the overzealous moms, and he had his arms crossed over his chest, nodding along with whatever was being said. His biceps looked good, but you also immediately noticed the Phillies hat on his head. 

Bradley's eyes shifted to the side as you approached the bleachers, and he kind of smirked at you. He didn't even seem to notice when the other mom placed her hand on his forearm. But you did. You wished it was you touching him instead. 

"Mommy, I need my bag," Everett said, and you shifted your attention to your son. You helped him get his cleats on, and then you waited for the coaches to blow the whistle to start practice. 

"Can I have everyone's attention for a minute?"

You looked up to see Bob heading toward the bleachers where all of the parents were sitting. So you took the spot next to Everett on the bottom row, and Bradley shifted to stand closer to your end. 

"I just wanted to reiterate how excited we are to coach your kids this season," Bob said. "Coach Bradley and I have worked out most of the scheduling and whatnot, but we do need to have a Team Mom or Team Dad to help us with some tasks. Things like bringing extra snacks and drinks, and being in charge of sending out texts if the weather is bad. Also they would need to be available to help us with anything else that might come up."

You let your gaze shift from Bob to Bradley, and he was already looking at you. He nodded once as his lips quirked up into a smile. 

"Does anyone want to volunteer?" Bob asked. Almost every mom around you raised her hand without hesitation. 

Bradley didn't look away from you, and it was making you feel flushed. He slowly, purposefully put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow as if to say c'mon, raise your hand.

You didn't have time to be the Team Mom. You didn't even really want to be the damn Team Mom. It was something extra that you really didn't need to do. 

But... you felt your hand slip up into the air as if gravity no longer had any hold over it. Bradley's smile grew as you sat in front of him like a little girl hoping he would call on you.

Just as Bob was about to choose a different parent, Bradley nudged him with his elbow to stop him.

"Right here," Bradley announced, nodding and gesturing to you. "She's our Team Mom." You slowly lowered your hand, and you felt a little giddy at being selected.

Bob looked a little confused with the abrupt decision, but he just smiled at you and said, "Sounds good. Thanks for volunteering. Now let's get started with our practice."

He blew his whistle, and Everett launched off the bench. You could hear him tell Bradley, "You wore a Phillies hat! Just like me!"

Bradley laughed and said, "Sure did, kiddo. Thought we could match." He glanced at you one more time before he led the kids out onto the field.

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

Bradley shouldn't feel so proud of himself right now. But he did anyway. He didn't even know what he was playing at with you. But as soon as Bob told him they needed a team parent, he wanted it to be you. 

"Jesus," he muttered under his breath as he set the ball on the tee for Henry to try to hit. You were probably married. Bradley probably just made himself look like an ass. But you raised your hand anyway when he tried to silently encourage you to.

"Nice hit, Henry!" Bob said, and Bradley clapped as the kid ran for first base. 

Bradley set the ball up again, this time for Everett. 

"You ready?" Bradley asked, earning him a big smile. "Just keep your swing nice and steady."

He watched Everett absolutely nail the ball and hit it right past Bob. He looked up at Bradley in surprise.

"Run, Ev! Run to first base!"

Bradley watched him take off like a shot and run past Bob, only stopping once he had stomped on the base.

When Bradley glanced over to where you were sitting, the smile on your face had him fumbling to get the ball back on the tee. You waved your fingers toward where Everett was jumping up and down, and then you looked at Bradley and bit your lip. Then you waved your fingers at him too before ducking your head.

He forced his focus back to the next batter who also hit it hard enough to take a base.

"These kids are actually good," Bradley told Bob as he helped guide Amber to first base while Bob pointed Everett to second. "But we need to practice running bases next week."

"Can't wait to play the Tiny Hawks next weekend," Bob said. "The Eagles are looking good."

Bradley and Bob high fived as the kids all gathered around them in the infield at the end of practice. "Great practice, Tiny Eagles," Bradley told them. "Now get some good rest this weekend, and we will see you on Monday for our next practice!"

The kids all started to run toward the bleachers, and the coaches followed them at a more leisurely pace. "Damn," Bradley muttered when he looked toward the parking lot.

When Bob gave him a concerned look, Bradley shook his head and said, "Everett's hot mom parked by me again. I've actually been thinking about her since Monday."

Bob's mouth dropped open. "You mean the Team Mom?"

"Yeah," Bradley whispered, nearing the bleachers and watching you switch Everett's cleats for sneakers.

"You have a crush on our Team Mom?" Bob asked a little too loudly for Bradley's liking. "That's why you picked her? Is that a good idea?"

Bradley just shrugged and took a deep breath. "Too late now, yeah?"

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

You felt a tingle wash down your spine and goosebumps break out on your skin. You glanced to your left, and sure enough, the coaches were standing right there. Bob was looking at you, and Bradley was running one hand over his face and readjusting his Phillies cap. 

Maybe you had imagined it. But you could still remember how he was looking at you, goading you, urging you wordlessly to raise your hand earlier. 

Because he had a crush on the Team Mom? On you? There was no way.

But as you stood, Bradley headed in your direction. He smelled good again, and he was so handsome. And his voice was so deep. You really wished your other two senses had experience with him as well. 

"Team Mom," he said with a smile. "Can Bob and I get your phone number for future correspondence and incidentals?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, and when he handed you his phone, you added your name and number for him.

"Thanks again for volunteering," he said with a smirk.

You didn't know what to say, and you could feel your face growing warm as your nose scrunched up in embarrassment. "No problem," you managed, but instead of leaving, he inched closer, and his smile grew.

"I hope you don't feel like I pressured you." 

You just shook your head, mesmerized by the low register of his voice. "No. I'm happy to do it."

Everett suddenly popped up next to you, standing on the bleachers. "Mommy, check to see if Coach Bradley wants to come with us to see the Phillies this year. Please?" 

You turned back toward Bradley, about to tell him that Everett was just being overzealous, but Bradley was grinning at Everett and adjusting the bill of his cap.

"I don't know if your dad would like that, kiddo," Bradley said, examining your face carefully.

But then Everett's face really lit up. "He wouldn't care! He doesn't even live with us anymore."

You scrunched your nose again in embarrassment. Nothing like having your kid basically announce to a hot guy that your ex husband ditched you.

But Bradley's lips curved into a smirk. "How about your mom and I talk about it, kiddo?" he asked, and Everett gave him a high five. "Now that I have your number?" 

You just nodded as you started to shove everything you brought into the gear bag.

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

You had scrunched your nose up again, just like a kitten, and Bradley felt the urge to reach out and touch you. He'd love to take you and Ev to a baseball game. He thought he might even like to hang out with you one on one, now that he knew Everett's dad didn't live with you any longer. But now he was wondering if you were single or seeing someone else.

Bradley watched you hurriedly packing up Everett's gear while he ran off to say bye to Bob. But Bradley didn't walk away, instead he texted you so you would have his contact information as well. 

When you checked your phone, you looked up at him again and laughed. "Your name is Bradley Bradshaw? Brad Brad?"

He groaned and pretended to be annoyed, but he really wasn't. "My parents probably thought they were hilarious."

Your laughter had him grinning again. "It's not a bad name! I'm sorry I laughed." But you were still laughing.

"You're not sorry," he said with a playful glare. 

When you scrunched your nose again and ducked away from him, you said, "No, I'm not."

Then Everett streaked back over and asked Bradley to walk to the parking lot with the two of you, and Bradley was helpless to say no.

"You have fun again today?" Bradley asked him as he bounced around, full of energy.

"Yes! I even hit the ball!"

"Yeah, you hit it hard. You'll be a power hitter when you make it to the major league. We just need to work on your fielding."

You were smiling but looking straight ahead at your car.

"What position do you like to play?" Everett asked, eyes wide as he looked up at Bradley.

"Usually shortstop. Sometimes second base."

"Did you used to play for the Padres or something?" Everett asked, completely in awe.

Bradley just laughed. "No, kiddo. I played in college. Then I joined the Navy, because I definitely was not good enough to play for the Padres."

"You're in the Navy?" you asked him as Bradley opened Everett's door and took the gear bag from your shoulder. Even touching your body through your suit coat was enough to require Bradley to take an extra breath before answering you.

"Yeah. So is Bob. We're both aviators."

"Wow," you whispered. "Impressive."

"Mommy! I'm hungry!" Everett called from the backseat as Bradley placed the bag on the floor.

"Me too, Ev. I'll get dinner ready as soon as we get home," you promised him, and Bradley could tell you were a good mom. You kind of reminded him of Carole Bradshaw, if he was being honest.

"Be good, and listen to your mom," Bradley told Everett as he closed the back door and then opened yours. "See you on Monday."

"See you then," you replied softly, slipping into your seat before Bradley gently closed your door.

He waved at Everett who was reaching his arm out the window as you pulled away, and then he climbed into the Bronco and headed to the Hard Deck.

Bob was already there when Bradley arrived, and Nat was on them right away. "You two look adorable in your matching Tiny Eagles jerseys."

"Thanks, Nat. I feel adorable. Do you feel adorable, Bob?"

Bob just blushed and walked away with his cup of peanuts. 

"So how are the moms treating you?" Nat asked as they both waited for drinks at the bar.

Bradley rolled his eyes. "Just fine."

"Are you hooking up with one of them yet?" she asked casually. 

"What the fuck, Nat? No! I'm there to coach the kids!"

"Chill, Rooster! It's so easy to get you riled up when you're trying to hide something! Bob said you have a crush on one of the moms."

He just shook his head and thanked Jimmy for his beer. "I don't. She's just cute is all. Not my type. Never gonna be my type," he promised, heading toward the pool table. And as if he was trying to make his point to Nat, he chatted up the first woman who approached him and left with her number. He wasn't going to call her, but Nat didn't need to know that. 

He didn't even save the number in his phone, because yours was already in there. 

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

In an effort to get that mustache and those biceps out of your mind, you called Frank on Saturday afternoon and agreed to head over to his place. 

He never cooks in his condo kitchen, and he hates when anything is messy, so you're not sure if you want to stay over or not. But you pack a bag just in case. 

When you get there, he has Thai takeout waiting along with a bottle of prosecco. "I'm glad you decided to come over," Frank whispered, running his hand up along your leggings while you tried to eat. 

"Yeah," you agreed halfheartedly. "Me too."

How had your life been reduced to this? Sleeping with a man you didn't have feelings for after ending a marriage to a man who never loved you? You wouldn't allow yourself to dwell on it for too long. 

"Let's head to the bedroom," he told you, snatching you out of your seat as soon as you finished your last bite of food.

As Frank ran his hands along your body and undressed you, it was easy enough to close your eyes and let your mind drift a little bit. Then his hands felt good, running up your sides and removing your shirt. It felt nice when he removed your bra and squeezed your breasts. It was even lovely when he pushed you down onto his bed and pressed you into the mattress with his weight. But when he started fucking you, it was just so mediocre. He somehow lasted too long, and you knew that you'd never be able to get off with him tonight. 

"You're so sexy, baby. Am I making you feel good?" Frank asked you softly.

You let your disappointment wash over you, but Frank didn't seem to notice the sad little gasps you made as he came before withdrawing himself and removing the condom. 

You checked your phone as you got dressed, and you nearly dropped it on the floor. You had a text from Bradley. A screenshot of ticket options for the Phillies vs Padres game the following month.

Bradley Bradshaw: Do you think Ev would prefer to sit behind home plate or in the outfield?

Now your heart was beating faster. Now you felt a little silly inside. Now you could imagine getting yourself worked up for a healthy orgasm.

"Everything okay? You keep looking at your phone," Frank said as he pulled his underwear back on. 

"Actually...." you started, and the lie was out of your mouth before you could stop it. "It's my sister. I need to go pick up Everett. But thanks for dinner."

Frank kissed you softly, holding your body against his before you broke away with a quick goodnight. You practically ran across the parking lot and jumped into your car with a smile on your face. Then you responded to the text.

Everett is going to think any seat is the best seat.

Bradley responded almost immediately, which shocked you since it was eight o'clock on Saturday night. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Well then why don't you tell me where you'd like to sit.

You pictured yourself sitting in his lap, and you felt very warm. When you started your car, you turned on the air conditioner as you drove away. 

His lap. 

You could picture yourself there so easily, like you'd already spent time snuggled up with him.

What was wrong with you?! You barely knew this man! 

It only took you five minutes to get to your house, and as soon as you walked in, your hand was sliding down inside the front of your leggings and into your underwear. You eased yourself down onto your couch as you touched yourself exactly how Frank never seemed to be able to. 

You stroked your clit just right with your middle finger, and then you came so quickly, it surprised you. 

When you caught your breath, you located your phone and responded.

Your call, Coach. What view do you like the best?

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

Bradley was sitting at his kitchen island, considering all the filthy things he wanted to send back to you.

You were definitely flirting with him now, right? You had to be single, right?

He quickly typed out his response and hit send before he could change his mind.

Any seat where I can see you.

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

I am thrilled by how much love you all had for the first part of this story! I hope you keep on loving Coach Bradley! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 3

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox