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#its not even just about 'not wanting to be cancelled for not/for doing x'
anonymouse5 · 2 days
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could you do a james potter X misophonia!reader
i have misophonia and have been struggling recently due to it,
if your not sure on what it is it’s where certain sounds trigger you, for example eating or pens tapping. Maybe a fic where he comfort her, normally when i’m triggered i either end up crying and walking away form the situation or i flip out at whoever is triggering me
ITS okay if not !! THANKYOU BBY
hey, sorry this took me so long to get to! writing this was an interesting experience. not sure if i want to do reader fics often but i'm not fully opposed to them either? anyway, i hope this brings you some comfort and is accurate(ish?) to your experience :)) sending lots of love <3
(feel free to send more requests if you like this!) (also feel free to send feedback!)
here you go:
Hogwarts had been busier than usual today. If you had been at home, maybe you would’ve just slipped on some noise cancelling headphones. But that isn’t really an option here, so you deal with it the best you can, hiding it out in your dorm on most days. Again, not an option today. You had way too many classes and clubs to go to. In the few minutes between, you go to the library. It literally has to be quiet there, right?
Of course, this is the one day James Potter and his friends finally decide to study (for once in their lives). You’re friends with Remus, and he seems alright. James— well, you try not to think too much about James. Thankfully, they aren’t making much noise, probably already having gotten a warning from Madam Pince.
It’s alright for a few minutes. But then you hear someone’s wand—
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You look over to the boys’ table. James, looking extremely focused, is tapping his wand on the edge of the table. He does look really busy. Maybe he’ll quit in a minute.
Nope. It just gets worse.
You feel a pressure in your head every time he taps his wand until it gets overwhelming. And then you snap.
“James, would you stop that?” you whisper-shout at him.
But you know it’s useless. You can’t study anymore anyway; you’re too overwhelmed. You pack your things and leave. You don’t notice James following after you until you’re outside the library and hear him shout after you.
“Wait,” he calls.
Despite yourself, you turn to him.
“Did I do something wrong?” James asks.
You bite back your immediate “yes”.
“The tapping was bothering me. It’s not your fault, though. I just—” you trail off, afraid he’ll laugh at you.
He’s got this weird look on his face, like he might.
“Remus hates it when I ‘chew loudly’,” James says. “Is it like that?”
“I guess? Listen, James, I just really want to be left alone right now.” You sigh.
“Ok, but before you leave— I think I might have a spell for you. We can go somewhere quieter?” James offers.
Reluctantly, you agree. James takes you to a spot on the Hogwarts grounds you haven’t seen yet. It’s a nice spot beneath a tree, with just bare grass and flowers blooming. You both sit down, and James points his wand at you.
“Woah, what’re you doing?” you shout.
“Just trust me,” James says.
You almost point out the obvious dangers of pointing a wand at someone’s head, but James seems so sincere and like maybe he’s done this before, so you let him.
He mumbles a spell and waves his wand in an unfamiliar pattern. Suddenly, it feels like your wearing your favorite noise-cancelling headphones, but so much better. You can’t even hear the light buzzing that you normally do.
“You have to teach me this spell,” you say enthusiastically.
The spell makes it a whisper to you, but the way James scrunches up his face tells you that maybe you were a bit loud.
“It worked then?” he asks.
You give him a thumbs up.
He takes out a piece of parchment and a quill and writes something down:
You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. Go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?
There’s two checkboxes underneath: yes or YES
You smile and check the YES box, adding a smiley face next to it.
The two of you sit at the peaceful spot until the sun starts to go down. You start to come with him here often, and he teaches you the spell right after your Hogsmeade date.
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mx-paint · 1 year
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#honestly the way some people talk about the comic v show is. strange#like they say that some things ripped from the comic wont make sense bc 'theyre trying to make him more human'#when. comparing them it Does?????#like the show does actually go into it but just seeing a scene and going 'not from comic so doesnt make sense' like.#its not even just about 'not wanting to be cancelled for not/for doing x'#its more of some things actually Cant be shown#not just for horror reactions but somethings cant be shown like it is in comic. even in a movie#like claiming that theyre putting his ex lover in a worse position to make him justified when its. actually to the comic#like. lets be clear. he was fucked up for what he did#the falling in love part was his sibling trying to get him destroyed#and i dont think he would fall in love with someone that young on his own (or anyone at all That Fast)#esp since shes the youngest out of all of his lovers and the one to be sentenced in such a way#for his own pride#and claiming that he isnt at fault when he obviously is. is taking more than just a wrong message if everybody else can understand it#like it just seems like youre complaining that ots straight up not the comic#dont get me wrong the mcu and dcu suck and are literally Made by people that hate the comics#but this aint it and was worked on by the actual writer#my point is idk what theyre talking about when they say its not. making sense#when hes still in the wrong#like i love him and i know the story thats first told about them isnt completely accurate#but hes in the wrong. his siblings know it. he knows it.#but looking at a scene that Is from the comic in show as evidence that its. not. doesnt make sense#like he is sweeter in show but. yall aint. proving shit lmao
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loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months
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Show me where it hurts (part 1)
Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader
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(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist
summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.
warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo
a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker.  I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D
(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)
edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(
wc: 3.6k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You think Miguel is avoiding you. 
One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point. 
"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."
She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it. 
"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"
"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow. 
"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.." 
He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here." 
"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?" 
"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?" 
"I don't have time for this-" 
"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?" 
"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans. 
"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks." 
"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now." 
This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching. 
"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-" 
"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."
"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."
He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "
Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!" 
When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall. 
"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly? 
Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out. 
~~~
Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big. 
He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 
Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm. 
"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain. 
Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies. 
"What happened?" He strains. 
"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-" 
"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"
"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"
Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye. 
"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-" 
"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."
Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple. 
"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."
When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile. 
You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you. 
"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."
You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."
"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."
You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?" 
He shrugs. " 'Course I was."
"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does. 
"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now. 
He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?" 
"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan. 
"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"
"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact. 
"That's not what I meant."
"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-" 
"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-" 
"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"
"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-" 
"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "
He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it. 
"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"
Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.
"I don't… I d-don't…?" 
"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?" 
Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. 
"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."
"Miguel-"
"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."
"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts." 
Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."
You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears. 
"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."
You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down. 
~~~
The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning. 
The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before. 
You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now. 
"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"
"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home. 
You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time. 
The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear. 
"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."
"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?" 
"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"
"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."
"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."
"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."
"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?" 
You hum.
"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"
"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."
He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?" 
"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"
"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me." 
"Naturally…"
"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."
"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"
"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."
"Shit."
"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."
"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."
"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "
"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me." 
" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."
"Good to know. I'll see you around."
He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard. 
Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes… 
You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.  
On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate. 
"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you. 
"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding. 
"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?" 
"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."
"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?" 
She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."
Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?" 
"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."
You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?" 
"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."
"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?" 
She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters." 
"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"
"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word. 
"I'm a little confused, Lyla."
She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface. 
It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head. 
Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…
"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "
You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla." 
"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."
Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning. 
"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?" 
"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."
"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."
"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."
"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this." 
"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"
"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."
The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."
"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you." 
With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.
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sometimesanalice · 12 days
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Between Friends
Summary: Bradley and you don’t talk about that Spring Break. But a single question asked during a night out at the Hard Deck might just change things between the two of you forever.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 11K
Warning: smut (including loss of virginity), brief mention of underage drinking, and college!bradley in a backwards hat
(Author's note: Happy Birthday Jordan! I wrote this just for you! Look at me keeping secrets from you! Enjoy!)
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𝐍𝐎𝐖
Rooster couldn’t control his bouncing leg.
That night at the Hard Deck had started out like any other: good music, good drinks, good people. Over the course of the evening, he’d found himself seated between you and Bob in a lopsided circle with the rest of the Daggers around a few tall tables that had been pushed together just shooting the shit.
It was all fun and games until swapping stories about embarrassing middle school moments turned into cringing over first kiss stories turned into Seresin grinning like a shark asking about how everyone’s first time went down.
Rooster felt his pulse kick up with every collective laugh and groan as his friends went one by one sharing how they’d lost their virginities. Because with each passing story, it meant that you were one person closer to going. And for the first time in his life- even after over two decades of friendship- he didn’t know what your answer was going to be.
So he is just as shocked as his teammates are when you tentatively reveal, “So, um, my first time was with Rooster.” He doesn’t miss the way all his friends’ heads snap towards him. 
All eyes are on the two of you, and you’re pointedly looking anywhere but him.
Rooster had been anxiously waiting to hear the story of your first official time, the one that was with someone who wasn’t him. He didn’t realize that you still considered him your first.  He’d figured that part of your history had long been overwritten by whoever had been lucky enough to catch your eye and make your heart race in a romantic way.
The two of you had never talked about it in the after.
Not once, not ever.
He didn’t care that people knew, he just wasn’t expecting it.
Jake starts the group out of its stunned silence by slapping a heavy hand on top of the table, nearly sending some bottles to the floor, “I knew it! I knew y’all couldn’t have been friends all this time and not have tried it out at least once.”
“Jesus Christ, dude, chill,” Javy mutters. He’s always been the better of the two about reading the room.
Trying to spare you from being put on the spot even more than you already were now, Rooster mumbles through the way he’d lost his to a girl from his AP Econ class after a playoff baseball game.
He stares at the way you’re nervously picking at the label of the Blue Moon he’d grabbed for you when he went to get a refill of his own. He can practically hear the way your brain is buzzing. He wonders if you wish you could take back the words from where they are sitting on the table with the collection of bottles and peanut shells for everyone to see.
Bob being the team player that he is starts talking about how he’d lost his one summer in college to another camp counselor, going into more detail than he’s ever given before, probably trying to redirect the attention to himself to give the two of you a moment to regroup.
Rooster makes a mental note to tell Penny to put all of Bob’s cream sodas from now on on his own tab.
He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do here. Or where to look. Or where to put his hands. He wants to talk to you, but there’s no good way for him to go about it without drawing even more attention to the two of you.
You were supposed to be going on a first date tonight, but he’d talked you into canceling to hang out with him instead. He likes having all of your attention on him. And maybe he’s been a little selfish with you, because he doesn’t like to share you with anyone else. You’ve always been his best friend.
Rooster likes that he gets to talk to you whenever he wants now, and that it doesn’t feel like a never-ending game of catch up anymore. In the year since the Uranium mission, he’d felt like all the fragmented pieces of his life had finally come together. He’d reconnected with Mav, he was living in the same city as his best friend, and he had a place he could finally call home.
He didn’t just want the highlights with you, he wanted everything in between too. There’s no more distance due to time zones and scheduling times to call because now you only live 20 minutes away from him. And the next time he comes home from a deployment, he knows he’ll get to look forward to seeing you there waiting for him.
He feels like he’s learned so much more about the grown-up version of you over the last year than he has in the last ten.
Jake jumps in barely a breath after Bob finishes telling his story. “Well, we all know it’s not the first who matters, but who was the best.” Rooster doesn’t trust the gleam in his eyes or the sharp smile on his face. “Since Bradshaw cut you off before, how’s about you go first this time, darlin’. You can tell us about who knocked your socks off. Maybe this time he’ll let you finish, if you know what I mean.”
It’s thinly veiled snooping disguised as chivalry, and it doesn’t fool anyone. Nat’s eyes dart to him briefly, trying to get a read on him.
He’d been 21 at the time. And while he knows more now that he did then, he also knows his name isn’t going to be coming out of your mouth for a second time tonight.
Rooster takes a sip of his beer, needing something to do.
He knows you’ve been with other people. You’d lived with your ex for over a couple years, for fuck's sake. But it was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not talk about your sex lives with each other.
His leg starts bouncing again and he realizes he really doesn’t want to hear this. Not because of his ego, but because he doesn’t know what to do about the knot that’s formed in his stomach.
Your mouth opens and closes a couple times before you speak, “That title would also go to Rooster.” The admission is soft, but sure. 
Where his heart had been pounding before, now it feels like it had stopped completely.
It’s been 13 years since that Spring Break. 13 years and he’s still your best?
Barely five minutes ago, he hadn’t known where to look. But now? Now he couldn’t stop staring at you.
He just didn’t understand why you still wouldn’t look at him back.
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𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎
When you’d floated the idea by Bradley about visiting him at UVA for Spring Break during your weekly phone call, you’d been braced for the disappointment of him already having plans. It was his Senior year, it wouldn’t surprise you if he wanted to go out with a bang and make the most of it. Especially since he would belong to the Navy soon enough.
But he’d taken you by surprise when he started enthusiastically listing off all the places he wanted to show you, planning out your trip like a well-seasoned travel agent before you’d even booked a plane ticket.
You’d started looking up airfare before you’d even hung up the phone. And thirty minutes later you had a confirmation email flagged in your inbox after elatedly charging that aisle seat to the credit card you only used for emergencies.
It had been close to a year since you’d last seen him. He usually spent his Winter Break with your family, but this year he’d stayed on campus for the holidays and it was the longest the two of you had ever been apart since you’d first met him when you were 8.
And maybe that’s why it took you so long to spot him in the Arrivals area of the Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport.
You’ve always prided yourself in being able to pick Bradley out of a crowd anywhere, but in your cursory glance you hadn’t recognized the tall, broad guy with the UVA shirt pulled taut across his chest and wearing a baseball hat backward on his head. It wasn’t until your third searching pass that you’d caught the lips that were quirked up in amusement and those familiar brown eyes trained on you as he leaned ever-so-casually against the faux wood paneling on the wall waiting for you to notice him.
He’d filled out in the months since you’d last seen him. He was more toned than you remembered him being with definition in places where there hadn’t been before. His face had more distinct angles and less baby fat cushioned curves. Still a bit boyish, but he was well on his way to looking like a man.
Bradley raised his hand like he was going to wave, but then he’d mimicked casting a fishing line in your direction and reeling it in. And it was so endearingly stupid- so him- that you couldn’t help but take the bait and made your way towards him with the biggest grin on your face.
You’d ignored the jittery flutter in your stomach as you’d weaved between people and luggage. You’ve never been nervous around your best friend before. There was something that had on your mind a lot as the days to your visit inched closer, but you’d shoved that out of your mind, because you were finally standing in front of him in person for the first time in months. 
“Hey, kid,” he’d greeted you, taking your bag, “Charlottesville must have known you were coming, because she’s going to be sunny for you all week.” As soon as you were within arm’s reach, he tugged you right into his chest for a hug. You could feel the unspoken I missed you in the way he squeezed you just that bit tighter before releasing you.
Then he was dropping an arm over your shoulders and steering you towards the exit and driving you into town in the beat-up car he’d bought after selling his prized Montero, the car that Mav had given him for his birthday.
You’re only there for a week and Bradley doesn’t waste a single moment of it.
After dropping your things off in his dorm room, he takes you straight to campus where he gives you the Official Bradley Bradshaw Certified UVA Tour. He buys you lunch from one of the food trucks in the Amphitheater “for sustenance” before taking you to see the highlights. You start with the Rotunda and then the academic village, making a special pitstop at the Whispering Wall for you to tell it a secret. And then he takes you on a more historical tour, like showing you the exact route he used to streak The Lawn and pointing out the place he’d puked after his 21st birthday.
It’s clear he’d put so much thought into your visit because it seems like there is never a down moment. By the end of the third day you’re more surprised that you don't wake up every morning with a printed itinerary on your pillow.
He sneaks you into the Slaughter Rec Center to rock climb, claiming he had a person on the inside with the right connections. But really from what you could tell, the pretty girl at the check-in counter clearly had a crush on him. He takes you to the batting cages he likes to go to before Dead Week, and spends the time there equal parts making fun of your power swing and trying to fix it.
You get your revenge the next day standing outside of the imposing columns and massive doors to the Fralin Art Museum. Skeptically eyeing the sculpture in the front of the building that kind of looked like a giant wisdom tooth, you mentioned, “I didn’t realize you’d become such a patron of the cultural arts.”
“Hey now, I like artsy shit,” he’d said, only mildly affronted.
You snorted at that. “Is there an exhibit on beer pong and blunt rolling you wanted to see?” Through the window you’d spotted some large landscape oil paintings in ornate gilded frames and carved marble busts of what you assumed were probably of some of the Founding Fathers.
“You just missed that one, it was last month,” Bradley lobbed back, opening the door for you.
“What a pity,” you’d said with a dramatic sigh, “Guess we’ll have to settle for some tasteful nudes instead.”
“If we’re lucky,” he’d muttered under his breath, as you passed under his arm.
And then you’d felt the corners of your mouth kick up.
Turning around you’d pressed your finger to his chest, whispering so the person behind the ticket desk didn’t hear you, “Twenty bucks says you don’t make it thirty minutes in there.”
He narrowed his eyes, taking in your sly grin, “You’re on, kid.”
It’s the easiest $20 you’ve ever made.
The two of you call it a truce only after he tips your kayak into the still chilly Rivanna River.
Later that night, he takes you to a party on “Mad Bowl” that one of his frat friends was hosting. The backyard was all strung up with red and green Christmas lights like they had been too lazy to take them down after the holidays and decided it added to the outdoor ambiance instead of packing them away.
He was still just as protective over you as he was back in high school. Spending the whole night keeping an eye on you and handing you drinks that he’d uncapped himself using the opener that he had on his keychain, the one that still had the little fighter jet charm you’d given him ages ago dangling from it.
The days pass all too quickly as he shows you all of his favorite spots.
You knew UVA wasn’t where he’d originally wanted to be- where he thought he’d be- but you were happy that he seemed happy here.
But in between the late-night microwave ramen and movie watching and crossing off all the things on Bradley’s Spring Break To-Do List, there’d been something you’d been wanting to talk to him about. But you were having so much fun with him, you’d missed your best friend over those long months apart, and you didn’t want to ruin the time you had left with him here.
It lingered at the back of your mind like a phantom hair that you can feel, but can’t ever seem to brush off no matter how many times you attempt to. You felt like you were waiting for the right time that you weren’t sure would ever come. And if you were being honest, you weren’t entirely sure you would even be brave enough to ask if the time came.
The two of you had woken up way before the sun this morning.
If anyone other than Bradley had asked you to wake up before 5 AM to go hike to watch the sunrise, you would have laughed at them. But because it was Bradley, you’d set the alarm without comment. Even though he did have to gently pry you out of his roommate’s bed- with the fresh sheets he told you he bought especially for your visit- and lace up your shoes for you.
The views at Humpback Rock had been worth the hour hike up to the outcrop of craggy rocks. The sunrise painted them a stunning shade of soft orange as the rays illuminated evergreen covered hills and valleys that extended in front of you to the skyline. You and Bradley watched it in silence, shoulders pressed against each other  as you took it all in.
You’re cozied up on your bed for the week, flipping through a book you’d brought with you, but hadn’t touched at all until now when Bradley comes back from the showers. His hair is still damp and the ends are starting to curl a bit.  
He drops a Styrofoam cup of coffee on the nightstand next to you.
You hadn’t been sure what rooming with him would be like, the two of you together 24/7 since his roommate had left to go home for the break.  But it felt like you were two kids at sleepaway camp getting away with mischief rather than two broke college students only pretending to get away with mischief.
He sits down at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his thighs, “So.”
“So?” you repeat, blowing on the hot coffee before taking a sip.
“Are you going to tell me what’s been up with you?”
You wince, and it’s not because the coffee tastes like tar. 
“What do you mean?” you try to ask casually.
Bradley gives you a look that says you don’t fool me, kid. “You’ve been squirrely. I didn’t want to press it, but I can tell there’s something on your mind.” He takes a sip of his own milky battery acid. “Are classes going better since you switched majors?”
You nod, looking anywhere else other than at him.
“How are things with your Dad?”
You offer him a shrug.
He sighs your name in exasperation. You can tell he is trying to tamper his frustration at your lack of cooperation.
“Is it a guy?” Bradley tries again.
You swear you feel your heart stop, because you knew what you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know how he was going to take it.
You fiddle with a string on his roommate’s comforter. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” you admit, tentatively, “But I’m nervous.”
Bradley’s eyebrows pull together as he sets his coffee aside, “C’mon, it’s just me. You can talk to me about anything.”
“It’s more of a question.” One you’re still deflecting from asking.
“Ok, well you know you can ask me anything.” His tiny dorm room feels even smaller as the two of you try to read the other’s face.
Taking a deep breath, you ask the question that’s been rattling around in your brain for weeks.
“Bradley, I was wondering if you’d be my first?”
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Less than ten words. That’s all it takes to tilt Bradley’s world off its axis.
He’s loved getting to show you around UVA this week. It wasn’t where he thought he’d end up, but he hadn’t lost sight of where he was going. He was going to be a Naval Aviator one way or another. He just also got to have a normal college experience too, one he’d been excited to share with you.
Bradley had originally been invited to go stay with one of his friends at his family’s beach house, but when you called and asked about coming to visit Charlottesville, it was an easy choice for him. He’d pick you every time.
It had been even better getting to cross off some of the things on the bucket list he’d made for his Senior Year with you in tow, like the hike he’d taken you on this morning.
He loves the views from up there and thought it would be something you’d like too, but he’d never done the hike early enough to catch the sunrise before. It was actually something he was planning on going the morning of graduation as a symbolic way to end his time at UVA, but getting to do it with you was special in its own way.
And while he’d caught you lost in thought more than a few times over the last few days as he showed you around, he never in a million years would have ever expected you to ask him that.
Bradley knows all the words you just used, but they don’t make sense to him in that order.
His brain is working in overdrive trying to figure out if there is any possible way he could have misinterpreted you.
“Your first…”
You take another deep breath and tip your chin up in resolve before looking him dead in the eye, there’s so much vulnerability reflected in them, “I haven’t had sex before, Bradley. And I’m really hoping that my first time can be with you.”
Bradley wants to tell you to put your Styrofoam cup down because he’s worried the tight grip you have on it might crush it, but he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.
He didn’t realize when his leg started bouncing until he sees you glance down at it.
Shooting to his feet and off his bed, he goes to lean against his recently decluttered desk. There’s too much restless energy coursing through him to just sit like he isn’t completely reeling. 
“Shouldn’t you want to do this with someone special? Like with rose petals and all that shit?” He scrubs a hand over his face. Rose petals and all that shit? God, he sounds like such a fucking dumbass, but he’s struggling to keep up.
And if he’s being entirely honest, he’s pretty surprised to learn you’re still a virgin. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but he knows you’ve had at least one serious boyfriend since you’ve gone to college. He figured that you got asked out all the time. He saw the way that some of the guys in his buddy’s frat were looking at the pretty girl with the dimples and big smile.
The girl who just asked him to be her first.
He hates the way your shoulders have slumped forward, like you’re trying not to cave in on yourself, “So, you don’t want to?”
“I didn’t say that.” His answer takes him by surprise.
The only other sound in the room other than his pounding heart is the whir of the air circulating in his dorm. 
“Would it help to make a pro con list?” you offer, less than helpfully with a little shrug.
“Jesus Christ,” Bradley mutters under his breath, looking up at the speckled ceiling trying to decode the flecks like tea leaves. “She’s cracking jokes like she didn’t ask me to make her come.”
“Technically, I didn’t say anything about that. I just asked you to be my first.”
“I’m not taking your virginity and not giving you an orgasm,” he states, and your eyes get wide. He runs his hands through his hair. “Sex makes things complicated, kid. We’ve got a good friendship.”
You sit up straighter on his roommate’s bed and bring your knees to your chest. It exposes the backs of your thighs and he has to shake the mental images of skin on skin out of his head.
There’s a look on your face that tells him you feel ridiculous even asking him, “Do you think you’re going to fall in love with me or something?”
“No,” Bradley says, honestly.
He knows you’re just trying to make a point.
The two of you have been friends for over a decade. He knows he cares about you- he always has- but he couldn’t imagine what anything other than just friendship would look like with you.
You nod in agreement, like you had been anticipating the answer before you’d even asked him the question.
“And do you think I’m going to fall in love with you?” you ask, your head tilting to the side.
He doesn’t even blink, “You can do better than me.”
And he means it.
Even if there was something more between the two of you, you’ve always been too good for him. And knowing him, he’d find a way to fuck it up. You’re the last person in the world he’d ever want to hurt. He’d let you down before, he doesn’t want to do it ever again.
You shoot him a disappointed look, like you don’t like hearing him say that about himself. And he’s oddly touched that you’re defending him against himself. 
“You’d literally be doing me a favor.”
Bradley is still surprised that he hasn’t ended this conversation yet. The two of you were supposed to go to the movies, but that definitely wasn’t happening now.
“I’m not saying no,” he says, “But I need you to help me understand. Why me? Why now?”
“Bradley, I want it to be with you because there’s no one else I’ll ever feel as comfortable with as I do with you,” you explain.
He watches as you unfold yourself and climb off the bed, coming to stand in front of him. You gingerly reach out and put your hand on his forearm, like you don’t want to startle him. Not that he’d be able to move anyways since it feels like the soles of his feet are cemented to the floor.
“I keep waiting for it to not feel like such a big thing, but every time it seems like it’s going to happen, I freeze. And I know you’d take care of me, and I’m not talking about orgasms.” You stumble over the word a bit, not fully meeting his eyes as you say it. “It’s scary enough as a girl and I’m worried I’m going to be too in my head with anyone else. But I also don’t want to look back and have any regrets, and I know I wouldn’t have any with you.”
The mention of regrets makes his stomach twinge. His heart feels like it’s hammering in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say.
You are looking at him with such open sincerity. He has never been good with talking about his feelings, he’s always been the type to bottle things up, while you have always worn your heart on your sleeve. It was just another way that you were braver than him.
“I know it’s a lot,” you say, letting go of him to take a step back, like you want to give him breathing room, “So if it’s too big of an ask. Or if it’s not something you’re comfortable with-”
Bradley shakes his head cutting you off, “It’s not that at all, kid. I just haven’t done this before.” Your eyebrow scrunches together in confusion. “I mean, I have,” he corrects, “But it’s not the same. All the girls I’ve been with had already had experience. And if we were going to do this, I would want to make sure it’s as nice for you as it can be.”
“So you’d be my first and I’d be yours? Well, kind of.” You give him a little smile, it’s a shy but hopeful thing. There’s only a hint of your dimples, but it’s enough. And he feels that practical part of him that had been holding back soften at the sight of it.
He doesn’t think he’s ever said no to you, excluding the times you tried to get him to give you his beer at the house parties he took you to in high school, and that was more out of self-preservation from a healthy fear of your mom than anything else.
When you wanted to learn how to drive a stick shift? He took you to the abandoned parking lot, it didn’t matter that you didn’t have your learner’s permit yet. When you wanted to learn how to throw a punch? He was making sure you knew not to tuck your thumb under your fingers, so that you didn’t break your own thumb instead of someone’s nose.
He’s always had your back and you’ve had his. That’s how it was between the two of you.
You’ve already said it, but he needs to hear it again, “You really want to do it?”
“I really want it to be you, Bradley. I really want to do this with you. I trust you the most.”
He’s always been willing to help you with anything you’ve ever asked of him, why should this be any different? What’s a couple orgasms between friends?
“Ok,” Bradley nods. If it’s to reassure you or himself, he couldn’t say. “I’ll do it. We can do it.”
Your eyebrows raise in surprise, like you were fully prepared for him to let you down gently, “Really?”
You didn’t ask for his why he was agreeing, but he was going to give it to you anyway.
“I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I lost mine to Samantha Prescod after the game against Centennial that got us a spot at State that year,” he waits until he sees the recognition cross your face before continuing, “But I had also just learned about my mom’s diagnosis and I was trying to find anything I could do to not think about it.” He rubs at a spot underneath his collarbone, it never got any easier talking about his mom. “I think she assumed that I’d done it before, because we didn’t really talk about it. She was there and into it, so it just sort of happened. Actually, I’m pretty sure she only slept with me because she wanted to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, because they got back together like three days later.”
It’s probably for the best that Samantha Prescod lives on the other side of the country now because you look livid. Your eyes spark with anger and disbelief on his behalf.
“It was years ago, it’s fine, kid” he shrugs, trying to brush off your concern. “But if I had a do-over, I don’t know if I’d make the same choice again. And that’s not something I’d ever want for you.” You deserve the rose petals, but he’ll do his best for you. “So we can do it, but I have one condition.”
The relief on your face and the way the tension in your shoulder releases only solidifies his decision.
“Tell me,” you say, taking a half-step towards him, “I want you to be comfortable too.”
Bradley pushes off his desk and meets you the rest of the way, “If you even think you’re feeling uncomfortable- about any of it- I need you to tell me. And we’ll stop and figure out where to go from there. If it’s a change of position, if it’s a full stop and order pizza instead, we’ll do that.” He pauses and reaches out to tip your chin up. “I’ll do whatever you need, got it?”
You throw your arms around him, and his wrap around you just as easily. Your hair smells like the travel sized shampoo he’d picked up for you, figuring you wouldn’t want to use his 2-in-1. You murmur your thank you into his shirt followed by a fuck Samantha Prescod that makes him squeeze you just a bit tighter to him in affection.
When you step back and look at him, your lips twitch upwards, “What’s with the look, Bradshaw? Don’t tell me you’re going to lie back and think of England?”
That makes him chuckle, your joke lightening the mood in only the way that you can do. He rolls his eyes in equal parts exasperation and fondness.
“God, I haven’t been this nervous since I lost my own virginity. I was so stressed I was going to blow my load in two pumps and lose my street cred.”
You snort and send him a smirk, “Well, you must have done just fine. I overheard some glowing reviews in the girl’s bathroom on more than one occasion.”
“I maybe lasted ten trusts, but I had the good sense to eat her out after,” he admits, and then tacks on for good measure, “I’ve gotten better since then.”
“What a stud,” you tease.
This is easier, this feels like the two of you. This should be fun, it shouldn’t feel serious. He can make it good for you.
You look up at him shyly from under your lashes, “So how do we do this?”
He feels like he only just wrapped his head around the idea of it, but now he was facing the very real possibility of seeing you very naked very soon.
“You want to do it now?” Bradley blinks.
“I mean, if you’re up for it.” You scrunch your nose when you realize you’ve made a terrible double entendre. “No pun intended, I promise.”  
He wipes his hands on his pants.
“You sure?” he asks again.
“I’m sure, Bradley. As long as you are too.”
He nods, “Then I guess we just…”
He’s not sure where he was going to go with that. But he’s spared from being roasted by you for making some sure to be lame birthday suit joke because you’re untying the bow on the soft lounge shorts you’d thrown on after your shower from the hike, and all the words get trapped in his throat.
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You don’t look at Bradley as you slide your shorts down your legs. And you definitely don’t look at him when you pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in only a soft green mesh bra and your cotton underwear. They’re mismatched, but sex with Bradley wasn’t originally on the Spring Break To-Do List agenda for today.
In fact, you hadn’t even been sure you were going to go through with asking him until he brought up the point that he knew you had something on your mind because you apparently had no poker face.
While it felt like you had a swarm of butterflies whirling in your stomach, you also knew wholeheartedly that this was the right choice for you. Everything he had said had solidified that for you.
You weren’t sure how you were ever going to thank him for this, but you had a lifetime of friendship with Bradley to figure it out.
His room cast in the soft afternoon light, the blinds only partly closed. There are little streaks of gold that line the plaid comforter on his bed. He’d been right, Charlottesville had stayed sunny just for you.
As you climb into it and situate yourself against his pillows, you can help but notice just how much his bed smells like him. It’s not the spicy scent you associated with the High School version of him. The woodsy and warm scent embedded in the threads of his sheets suits this grown up version of him.
You feel equal parts overdressed and underdressed in your bra and underwear. You know the latter are going to come off eventually, so you make a split-second decision to just take them off yourself under his covers. The idea of Bradley helping you to pull them off later seems like it would be too intimate based on the way the thought of it makes your cheeks heat up.
It’s practical, you’re being practical, you think to yourself.
You chance a peek at him and are surprised to see that he hasn’t budged an inch. It’s almost like he is waiting for you to get completely settled before he dares to move a muscle. His eyes are trained on the pile of your clothes on the floor, he looks lost in thought.
“Bradley?”
The sound of your voice seems to kickstart him into action.
He shucks off his shirt in that kind of reckless way that seems to be ingrained in boys and then unbuttons his pants. You’re torn between feeling like you should give him privacy and wanting to watch. What you were expecting is the way he takes the time to pick his clothes up before folding them over the back of the chair at his desk.
Your mouth goes dry as you take in the sight of his body, the diffused light perfectly outlines the shape of him. His broad shoulders are rounded with the muscles he’s gained from whatever exercises the NROTC has been putting him through. Your eyes dip down to his defined chest and over the ridges of his abs. You’ve seen him in swim trunks plenty of times, but seeing the way the muscles of his thick thighs fill out the black boxer briefs he was wearing was entirely new to you.
Bradley approaches you and then pauses as he bends down to collect your pile of clothes on the floor, his hand hesitating only for a second when he reaches for your underwear. He drapes all of your things on top of his on the chair and makes his way back to you.
The gesture makes you melt a little like a soft serve ice cream cone on a summer afternoon.
You lift the corner of the cover for Bradley and he climbs in next to you. You move closer to the wall, trying to make more room for the bulk of him in his small bed, and he shifts in even closer into you until your bodies pressed tight against one another. The curves and angles of the two of you slotting together like pieces of a puzzle.
It feels like the two of you are teetering there on the edge of something. You both know exactly where it’s going, but are unsure of how to make it from Point A to Point B. Both waiting on the other person to make the first move.
He rests his warm hand on your stomach, the muscles there jumping on their own under his touch in anticipation. Your faces are close since you’re sharing his pillow. His brown eyes are searching yours, probably looking for any sign of hesitation that you don’t feel.
“Tell me how you’re feeling.” It’s not a question, but a request.
“Overwhelmed,” you admit, “But in a good way.” He runs his palm lightly up your stomach and back down, soothingly.
“Good, that’s good,” Bradley says, clearing his throat, “You’re supposed to feel a little ‘overwhelmed, but in a good way.’” You feel your lips pull up at his gentle teasing.
He smiles softly at you. His face has always been so familiar to you. The pink from his scars have finally faded, but you wonder when his eyes start crinkling around the corners.
You let go of the comforter to run a finger down the top of his nose, “I don’t know how this has stayed so straight.” He’d been in more than a couple fights in his teen years, including one that had sent him through a sliding glass door.
“Probably the combination of a little luck and the fact that none of those guys could throw a punch,” Bradley smirks. He shifts on his side, propping himself up on an elbow looking down at you, still running his hand along your stomach. “What have you done so far?”
His fingertips circle your bellybutton and your stomach swoops like it’s on the swing carousel ride at the fair.
“Some over the clothes stuff…” you stammer. You’re having trouble focusing because all your attention is on his big hand and how it feels against your oversensitive skin. “And I have a vibrator, but ah…”
You’re so keenly aware of his hand. With every lazy circle he makes, he has you wondering if this is going to be the one where he finally moves his hand lower. That part of you in flutters in expectation because you know it’s coming.
You let out a shaky huff when his fingers trails back up your stomach.
“What is it?” Bradley’s hand stops moving. “What are you thinking?”
“Honestly?” you say, trying not to squirm, “I’m getting really horny and you keep teasing me.”
He presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh at your overshare, and there’s amusement in his eyes.
“You know, some people call it foreplay,” he drawls. You’d roll your eyes but his fingertips are by your bellybutton again and you want him to keep going. “You ready for more?” You nod a few times because if he doesn’t touch you soon you might just crawl out of your skin. “Ok, gonna stop ‘teasing’ you now.”
This time his hand doesn’t stop at your bellybutton, it keeps moving down, down.
You stutter over a breath when Bradley’s fingers touch your clit. You feel yourself melt a little further into his mattress. He’s making easy circles, letting you get used to someone’s fingers other than your own on the most sensitive part of you. Your hands are clutching tightly to his comforter, unsure of what else to do with them.
“Spread your legs a little wider for me,” he murmurs. You feel your face heat up. He’d just given you a direction, but it sounds almost indecent coming out of his mouth.
You shift, moving your legs apart further for him, until he secures your left between his own, opening you up even more. You know you’re wet and now he does too. Bradley’s fingers slide easily over you as he increases the pressure on your clit. You can feel the intensity of his gaze on you watching for your reaction as he figures out what you like the most.
It doesn’t take him long to learn your body. You don’t know whether to be impressed with him or embarrassed with yourself at how quickly he’s worked you up.
Your breathing feels so loud in your ears in the quiet room, every breath and sigh is amplified. There’s a certain thrill in not knowing how he’s going to touch you next, your own fingers pale in comparison now.
His warm breath coasts down the side of your neck causing you to shiver at the sensation. It makes goosebumps break out along your arms and your nipples pull taut.
He notices. Of course he notices.
“Are you cold?” His voice is low in your ear.
“No, I-” Oh god, you’re right there. “B-bradley, I’m-” You’ve made yourself orgasm plenty of times, but you’ve never shared that part of yourself with anyone else before. No one knows what you sound like or what you look like when you come. But now, Bradley was going to have the piece of you too. A whine escapes you without your permission.
“It’s ok, kid, I’ve got you.”
You’re seeking and searching, but it’s Bradley’s fingers that have the answer.
And you come with your stomach twitching and hips jerking as he murmurs praise in your ear.
His fingers slow down, featherlight on your clit, but your heart is still racing when he rasps, “There’s one, you up for another?”
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Bradley loves that moment during sex when he hears that first gasp or moan. He loves learning what sounds of satisfaction he can pull from his partner. He loves knowing he earned it. But he never in his life could have ever anticipated hearing those sounds from you.
In his bed. Because of him.
He didn’t expect the lick of heat that curled up his spine at the shape of your legs and the curve of your ass as you were stepping out of your shorts. He’d never seen anything so strangely endearing as it was watching you shimmy your underwear off under the shield of his covers.
Every hitch in your breath made his blood run hotter in his veins. He was trying to control his cock, but he’d started getting hard the second you’d pulled your shirt off. Your bra was some kind of sheer thing that left nothing to the imagination, and while he wasn’t trying to check you out- because that’s not how it was between the two of you- he couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered down.
You’re slippery, wet, and warm. And he knows he can make you come again.
“Do you want me to use my fingers now?”
You crack an eye open at him, it’s the first time you’ve opened your eyes since he first touched you. Your eyes are bright in that way that only comes with an orgasm. “I thought you already were.”
“Such a smartass,” he grins.
Bradley changes the unhurried circles he’d been making on your clit to the upstroke that made your hips jerk up into his hand the first time he’d tried it. The little noises you’re making have him fighting the urge to grind himself against you for some relief of his own. He’s still got your knee tucked between his own; where there had been a hint of polite space between your bodies, the way you’re writhing now has him pressed up against your hip.
You gasp, breathily, “Oh, you’re hard.” The disbelief is evident in your voice, but it’s the look in your eyes that he doesn’t know what to make of, something like surprise.
He’s been trying to be a gentleman, this is about you and not him. There might not be anything romantic happening between the two of you, but this was hot and he was more than a little turned on. And he knows you are too because he can feel how wet you are under his fingers.
“’Course I am,” Bradley says, nudging his nose against your temple, “I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed half naked.” He didn’t want you to feel like you were in this on your own, so he lightly rocks against you. He wants you to feel him, he wants you to know he is into this too. “Are you ready more?”
“I’m ready, I want more,” you confirm, wrapping your hand around his bicep.
Your breath hitches as he teases you with just the tip of his finger.
He’s been told before he has big hands and thick fingers, he’s always taken it as a compliment in the past, but now he’s scanning your face for any trace of discomfort as he sinks one into you.
Your eyebrows twitch then smooth out and your mouth drops open as he starts pumping his finger into you in a smooth rhythm.
“That feels nice,” you sigh, airily.
He knows you like it when your hips tip up just a fraction. His comforter is bunched around your waist and your nipples are peaked against the see-through fabric of your bra. He gets his thumb on your clit and you whimper as you tentatively roll your hips against his fingers.
Bradley hums his approval, “Atta girl. There you go, find what feels good for you.” His voice sounds low even to his own ears, a throaty rumble. He feels you clench around his fingers and it sets his pulse racing. It’s a piece of information he tucks away for himself.
He’s gentle on your clit, but now that he knows you’re into it he’s setting a more purposeful pace with his fingers.
You’ve got your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, like you’re trying to swallow down your sounds. He didn’t realize how much he liked hearing these new sounds from you until you started trying to muffle them. On the next slide of his finger into you, he knows exactly what he’s looking for.
You suck in a sharp breath of surprise when he finds it.
“Is that the right spot, kid?” He sounds so smug. You curse and your hand clutches at his shoulder. “You want to try a second finger?” he murmurs into your ear.
“Yes,” you rock into his hand, “Yes, please.”
“Whatever you want, Miss Manners.” His chest feels like he’s taken a shot of Fireball. “You’re so polite when you’re trying to get your way.”
“I’m always polite,” you challenged weakly, pressing your head further into his pillow.
“Mhm,” he indulges, fondly, “You’re the sweetest girl I know.”
And then he fills you with two fingers.
“Jesus, Bradley,” you gasp, offering more of yourself to him.
Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder as he lets your whimpers and whines guide his hands.
The two of you have your eyes fixed on the way the tendons of the visible part of his forearm are flexing before it disappears under the covers as he works you.
Bradley curls his fingers into that spongy part of you and your hand flies to his wrist, gripping him tight. It makes him pause, worried that he might have pushed you too far too fast.
“No, no. D-don’t stop,” you plead, desperately, “I’m so close. Keep going, please.” You squeeze his wrist encouragingly.
“Sorry, sorry,” he soothes. He focuses his efforts on that spot again now that he knows you weren’t wanting him to slow down, but rather trying to hold him in place. His fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit working in tandem to get you there again.
“I just- yes. Like that. Oh fuck. Keep doing that. Oh my god. Please, Bradley.”
He’s heard you say his name a lot of different ways, but never like this.
Your back arches and you twist yourself towards him, burying your face against him and keening into the hollow of his throat as you come around his fingers.
You jerk and writhe into his hand, your knee slips free of his and your thighs clamp together around him. Bradley rolls off the arm he’d been leaning on and brings it to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he steadily works you through it until you’re loose-limbed in his arms.
He waits until your rapid pants have evened out before he slips his fingers from you. The displeased sound that you make makes the corners of his mouth twitch. He should have known you’d be bossy. He rubs gentle circles into the divots at the base of your neck as you come down.
Bradley can feel your lips graze the side of his neck when you finally speak, “So, um, let me know if you need a letter of recommendation or anything. I’d be happy to pass one along to your next partner.” You languidly prop yourself up on his chest and he notes with pride that you look a little flushed. “But, seriously, I get it now.”
He huffs a laugh as he toys with the end of your hair, “I’m glad it lived up to the hype. Well, at least that part of it.”
You press your lips together like you’re deciding something, tracing idle shapes on his stomach, and he can’t decide if he thinks you’re doing it without realizing it or if you’re the one doing the teasing this time. Your eyes flick down to his visibly hard cock and he feels his face heat up, “Can I?”
“Do you want to?” Bradley wants this experience to be everything you need and want it to be, but something about the tables turning here and the idea of you being the one to touch him like that makes his heart pound.
“I want to make you feel good too,” you softly tell him, resting your chin on your shoulder. The tender way you’re looking at him makes his teeth ache.
“Ok, but only for a little bit,” he agrees. Bradley knows he’s walking a tightrope with this, he’s aching and more than ready to be touched, but he doesn’t want to come all over your hand.
He plants his feet into his mattress and lifts his hips enough to pull off his boxer briefs, sighing in relief as his cock bobs free.
“That can’t be average,” you mutter under your breath.
He doesn’t know if you meant to have said it out loud but he smirks all the same, “I’ve never been average a day in my life, kid, Grade A student here.”
A groan slips out of him as your tentative fingers grasp his cock. There’s a lack of finesse in the way you touch him, your hand isn’t nearly as well-practiced as his own. He wraps his hand over yours, guiding your strokes as he shows you just what he likes.
“You can grip it a little firmer,” he coaches. You nod studiously, like you’re going to be tested on it later. Together the two of you work him from root to tip.
Bradley had never given much thought to his size until now. He knew he was big, but seeing that your thumb couldn’t reach the tips of your fingers when your hand was curved around him was an ego boost he didn’t know he needed.
You get more confident with every glide up and down the length of him. Your tricky thumb sweeps over the tip, collecting what precum had gathered there, and it makes your hand slide easier over him. When he accidentally thrusts into your hand, you grin and there are those dimples again.
“Ok, ok,” he blows out a shaky breath, stilling your hand with his. “We gotta stop or I’m going to come. And I’m not about to be a one pump chump.”
“It sounded like you’re more of a ten pump chump, if I remember correctly,” you tease, looking all too pleased with yourself. “Don’t worry, Bradshaw, your street cred is safe with me.”
He shakes his head in amused disbelief, “You’re such a goddamn menace. I knew I shouldn’t have told you that part.” He surprises the both of you when he wraps an arm around you and rolls to pin you under him.
And it’s like all the air is sucked out of the room because your thighs are cradling his hips and his cock is resting heavy on your stomach.
Neither one of you dare to move. He’d give anything to know what you’re thinking right now, he feels out of his depth as he watches you watching him.
His tongue feels thick in his mouth, “Are you on-”
You nod before he even finishes the question.
“Do you have-”
He nods before you finish yours.
“What did you promise me?” he prompts, squeezing the dip of your waist.
You hold up your pinky to him, “I’ll tell you.” He wraps his own crooked one around yours and gives it a shake.
Bradley doesn’t know what comes over him, but he drops a kiss to your shoulder as he reaches over you into the drawer of his nightstand to fish out what he needs. He’s thankful when you don’t comment on it because he wouldn’t even know how to explain it.
He leans back on his knees and rolls the condom on with practiced ease, then flicks open the cap to the bottle of lube he’s also grabbed and drizzles it over his cock.
“Am I not…” you trail off. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound this shy with him before.
“You’re plenty wet,” he assures you, pumping himself- once, twice- just enough to coat himself, “But this’ll be good too. I think you’ll like it.”
Bradley settles back over you, one arm braced by your head and the other on your hip, as your hands come up to rest lightly on either side of his ribcage. He rocks against you to demonstrate; the head of his cock nudges your clit with each silky pass. You exhale heavily at the sensation as he eases you into the motion of it, as he shows you what it’s like with another person.
You’re holding him close, and in just a moment the two of you will be the closest two people can be.
He makes only enough room to reach down between your bodies, only looks away from your face long enough to line himself up with you. There is such trust in your eyes as you gaze up at him, it’s not something Bradley takes for granted.
You nod, your fingers stroking his sides.
God, does he want this to be good for you.
He takes a breath.
And then he’s shifting forward and pressing in.
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Bradley thrusts into you with all the careful gentleness you’d expect from him.
His thumb skimming along your forehead as he pushes in, in, in.
When he found that spot inside of you with his fingers, you thought you were going to fly away from the intensity of it, but then he’d pulled you into the safety of his arms and you felt like you could fall apart because he’d be keeping the pieces of you together.
He’s been so good to you. He is so good to you. He’s the best person you know.
The more of him he gives you, the less you feel like you can catch your breath.
You feel hot, hot all over. And much fuller than you’ve ever been.
Some sound must make its way out of you because Bradley offers you a low soothing noise before you feel his lightly chapped lips against your temple.
There’s something about this that reminds you of the time he tried to teach you how to skateboard. Always waited until you told him you were ready, until you found your balance. He’d held your hand as you cautiously rolled along the sidewalk, you were less worried about falling with him by your side. Only this time, his hand is on your waist and the only movements are his hips against yours as he rocks into you.
Little by little. Inch by inch.
You clutch at his biceps at the slight stinging sensation and you feel him hesitate.
“It’s just a lot,” you whisper. His fingers flex on your waist.
“You’re doing so good, just a bit more,” Bradley murmurs, encouragingly.
There’s pressure, there’s a give, and then there’s relief when his hips finally, finally meet yours.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath.
Your eyes had flickered shut somewhere along the way. You open them to see that Bradley’s face and chest are flushed pink, the muscle of his jaw flexing. The furrow between his eyebrows is so deep that you release your grip on him to smooth out the lines with an unsteady fingertip.
He reads the question in your eyes.
“You’re just really tight,” he grits out, voice strained.
You assumed that was a good thing, but he’s holding himself so tense above you that now you’re not sure. “Do I-,” you fumble over the words, “Does this feel good for you?”
He huffs an incredulous laugh, and brushes back some hair from off your face, “You feel really fucking good, sweet-”
Your whimper cuts him off when he pulls out a fraction and then pushes back in.
His brown eyes take you in as he does it again, more this time. Pulling out just a bit- just enough- and then filling you again. The discomfort fading more with each thrust as he guides his hips to yours until yours are tilting up to meet his seeking more.
It’s a conversation between your bodies, the give and the take of it all as Bradley introduces you to this new unspoken language. You feel yourself flutter around his cock, stretched wider than you’ve ever been.
You feel that heat spreading underneath your skin again as he surely and steadily pumps into you. It feels like your nerves are on fire. You didn’t expect to even come once and you’re well on your way to a third.
He reaches down and hooks your leg over his hip. His hand slides up along the outside of your thigh and under your ass, tilting your hips up towards his even more. He’s so much deeper like this. Your hands slide into his hair, tugging at his curls.
“Bradley, I-I think… I feel-”
 “You’re gonna come,” he rasps, nodding at you. Encouraging, coaxing.
He grinds his pelvis against your clit with every deliciously slow roll into you.
Your mouth drops open at the feel of it, it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You don’t think your faces have ever been closer than they are now. Bradley is breathing your air, and you’re breathing his. Bradley’s pupils are blown wide, his heavy-lidded eyes are locked on yours. You didn’t know there could be so many shades of brown. His curls are a mess and it’s all because of you. He licks his lips and your breath catches in your throat when his eyes dart down to your parted mouth.
His next thrust into you hits that spot inside of you just so right that it has you gasping.
It’s so good, it’s too good, it’s overwhelming.
You wrap your arms around his neck clinging to him, your face buried against him. Bradley drops his head to your shoulder, you feel his lips brush against your clavicle. Your head moves away on instinct, making more room for him if he wants to do it again.
You get lost in the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the places you’ve heard about and read about, but have never felt for yourself until now. He’s still got your ass gripped in his hand, whereas your hands can’t stay in one spot. They’re tangled in his hair, running over his shoulders and down his abs, gliding over his back aided by the sheen of sweat he’s worked up.
You’re not trying to hold yourself back, but it feels like you’re standing on the tallest diving board at the pool, your toes curled around the edge, but still too nervous about the drop to jump.
“C’mon, kid. You’re right there,” he breathes hard, “I need you to come for me. Just one more.”
He gets his fingers back on your clit and it’s the end of you. Your back is arching so much you think you might snap. Your toes curl so tights they may never unfurl. The force your orgasm overtakes you, demanding everything you have up to offer and then some.
You hear Bradley’s moan as you pulse around his cock, trembling under him as the waves of pleasure wash over you. His hips stutter against yours, finally losing that steady rhythm he’d set, you pull him tighter to you and it’s not long until he comes too.
It’s all white noise. All you can feel is your heartbeat pounding, until little pieces of the world come back into focus.
The hum of the fan.
The beam of warm afternoon light through the blinds.
The smell of the now cold coffee on his nightstand.
In the after, you’re all too aware of every place your body is touching Bradley’s.
He’d somehow managed to roll on his back and had taken you with him. He was literally just inside of you, but yet it feels like your leg draped over his thigh is somehow more intimate. A prickly self-conscious feeling settles over you. Unsure of what the rules were for friends who just had sex, you attempt to peel yourself off of him, but the heavy arm over your waist keeps you in place.
“Come back here, kid,” Bradley mumbles, his eyes still closed, “I need to cuddle after I come, so I’m gonna need you to indulge me here for a moment.” He strokes a soothing hand down your back. And while he says it’s for him, you know he’s still trying to take care of you.
He hums when you lay back down. You set a hand on his chest. He reaches for it with his free one and threads your fingers together. It makes you melt further into him.
You feel a little different. But mostly, you feel like a weight you didn’t know you’d been carrying had been lifted off of you.
Your first time was everything you hoped it would be. You were safe and cared for, and you already knew, you’d never have any regrets about it. And it was all because of him.
“Thank you, Bradley,” you say, softly.
“Anything for you, kid.”
Your early morning catches up with you as you lay there, warm and secure. Your eyelids get heavier with each pass of Bradley’s hand along your spine. And you drift off to the sound of his heartbeat under your ear.
You’re still you. And Bradley is still Bradley.
It was just… something between friends.
A few hours later the two of you are still in his bed.
Only now you’re clothed and swapping the cartons of Chinese food that he’d ordered while you’d napped against his chest, and fighting over the fortune cookies watching some reruns of old sitcoms. You couldn’t hear their laugh tracks over your own.
The last couple of days you had at UVA fly by just as quickly.
You don’t know how, but the two of you managed to cross of all the things on his Spring Break To-Do List. And before you knew it you were back at the airport.
Bradley had insisted on walking you in, wanting to see you off.
Neither one of you has ever been good with goodbyes. So you don’t give him one, instead you reach for your bag and tell him, “Ok, see you in June.”
Bradley doesn’t let go, clearly confused, “What the hell are you talking about?”
You grin because it feels like a checkmate.
“You didn’t think you’d be getting that diploma all by yourself, did you?”
He looks thunderstruck.
You and your mom already had the plane tickets and hotel room booked. Your stepdad wouldn’t be able to come, but he was planning on sending your mom with one of the cakes from his family’s bakery. You’d been tasked with finding out what flavor, carrot cake or peanut butter- Bradley’s two favorites- but you could iron out the details with him later.
You’d had a busy week, plus it was more fun this way.
Bradley tugs you into his arms, yours wrap around him just as easily as they always have.
“June?” he asks into the crown of your head.
“June,” you promise.
And when he lets you go- for real this time- it’s with a smile that takes up his whole face.
He doesn’t say goodbye either, “Be good, kid. See you in June.”
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𝐍𝐎𝐖
You avoid Rooster for the rest of the night.
And Jake too, for that matter. Bless Javy for finding ways to distract him because you could tell than man was chomping at the bit for more details. But you’d already given him more than enough.
You could have lied, you probably should have lied. It might have been easier than feeling like you’d hung up part of yourself on the drying line for everyone to see. But in that moment, the thought of lying and saying anyone else’s name other than Rooster’s had made your stomach turn.
Because it was the truth, he was your first, but he was also your best.
When you come out of the bathroom, there’s no missing Rooster. He’s leaning against the wall by the entrance. It takes him a moment to notice you since he looks lost in thought, but when he does you feel pinned to the wall by the intense look in his eyes.
He stands to his full height as you approach, you know he wants to talk about it.
You shake your head at him, “We don’t need to do this.”
“No, kid, we really do.” He takes you by the arm and leads you to a quieter spot away from everyone else.
“It was just a game,” you start before he can, “And now I know more about everyone’s sex life than I ever wanted to.” He crosses his arms over his chest at your attempt at deflection. “Look, I’m really sorry if that was something you wanted to keep a secret or just between us. I should have asked you first if that was ok to share.”
“I don’t care about that.” Rooster waves you off and takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours. “All this time and I’m the best you’ve ever had?”
“Are we really doing this? Here and now?”
You peer around him to look and see if anyone is watching the two of you, it feels like a showdown. But all the Daggers are occupied, probably on purpose. You’ve never seen Mickey with such a serious look of concentration on his face.
“Here and now,” he confirms.
You feel flustered, “Rooster, it’s been 12 years and we haven’t talked about it once-”
“Bradley,” he cuts you off. He takes another step towards you, so you’re toe to toe with him. “I’ve always been Bradley to you.”
The tension that had crept up in your shoulders releases a bit.
“Bradley,” you say, softly. “Listen, I’ve had a lot of good sex since then. Great sex even.” He presses his lips together and nods. “And with other men, if I felt like they weren’t putting in their best effort I’d kick them out because the bar was set very high early on.”
You see him fight back a smirk.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, with pride.
Your breath gets caught in your throat, you know he hears it because his eyes take on a richer shade of brown. You both feel the shift, tension churning between the two of you.
Taking a deep breath, you continue, “But I was telling the truth when I said you were my best. Probably because of the way you made sure I knew that you cared. I don’t know how to describe it. It was just different with you.”
You feel his finger graze the back of your hand.
The sounds of the Hard Deck fade into the background as you stare at each other. Entire conversations are being had as you look into his eyes and he looks into yours. Words and sentences spoken with glances.
Just friends don’t look at each other like this.
“It’s never been like this,” you whisper, “We’ve never been like this before.” You gesture at how close he is to you.
How he’s almost got you backed up against a wall.
How he’s looking at you like you’re his.
“I know.”
He says your name and your heart somersaults in your chest.
“I want to see your tattoo. I keep finding myself looking for it when we’re all at the beach. And then I get annoyed, knowing that people have seen it and I haven’t.”
“My tattoo? Bradley, what-”
“I want to see your tattoo,” he repeats like it’s a fact. “And I want to punch Seresin in his smug face every time he flirts with you.”
You roll your eyes, “Jake doesn’t flirt with me, not really. He just likes riling you up.”
“What if I said I wanted to try this as more than friends.” Bradley settles a large hand on your hip. “What if I said that since you’ve moved here I’ve had a hard time keeping my head on straight.”
“Bradley.” His name falls out of your mouth so easily now that it can.
“I want to take you home with me. I want to kiss you. I want to make you come. I need to know if you sound the same in my bed. And then I want to take you out for breakfast and buy whatever fancy coffee you want and as many pancakes as you can eat.”
You’ve been told that you wear your heart on your sleeve, but he has always worn his on his face. There’s no mistaking the open want on his face.
“Bradley, it’ll be different this time.” For so many reasons.
Because it’s not a favor being asked. It’s not some new experience being tried with the person you trust the most, with everything. You’d be on equal footing. It wouldn’t be a friend helping a friend, the two of you would be crossing that line between friends and more because you want each other in that way.
“I want it to be different, sweet girl,” he says, cupping your face in his familiar hand, “I’m ready for it to be different, if you are.”
He looks from your eyes down to your parted lips.
“We didn’t do that last time,” you whisper. Feeling brave, you reach out and run your fingers along the buttons of his shirt.
“No, we didn’t,” he agrees. His eyes are trained on his thumb as he skims it under your lip. “And that’s a damn shame.”
Bradley’s face is all you can see. Warm eyes, a still-straight nose, and a soft smile that is for you and you alone.
He dips down and your eyes flutter closed, your head tipping up on its own in anticipation.
His lips brush your cheek. It’s not enough.
You tug on his collar, but he chuckles and kisses your cheek again, lingering longer this time.
“I’m not kissing you for the first time around the corner from a bathroom,” he rasps.
You open your eyes and see the amusement in his. He always did like teasing you.
“Oh, where do you plan on doing it then?”
“Outside your front door, like a gentleman,” he says, like it’s obvious.
You can’t help but grin because Bradley Bradshaw can’t wait the extra 10 minutes it would take to drive to his place instead of yours. He wants that kiss just as badly as you do. You watch as a matching smile to yours blooms across his face.
It feels normal to slide your fingers between his much larger ones. It feels right as you lead the way out of the Hard Deck with him only a step behind you.
As it turns out, he only makes it as far as the Bronco before he’s spinning you back towards him and pressing you against it. His hands are on your hips and yours are wrapped around his neck as he kisses you for the very first time.
Bradley kisses you like a man who knows what he wants. And what he wants is you.
It’s not tentative in the way that first kisses usually are.
He kisses you like he knows you.
Because he does.
Later, when he closes the door to the Bronco for you, it feels like the end of one thing. But as he slips his fingers into yours when he backs out of the parking space it feels like the beginning of something new.
That night tangled in Bradley’s sheets- he’d kissed you at every light which made those extra 10 minutes it took to get to his home worth it- he makes your back arch and your toes curl as he makes you come with his fingers and mouth and tongue and cock. His lips dropping kiss after kiss on every part of you that he can reach. Because he can, because you want him and he wants you. 
The way he touches you tells you that he remembers it all.
He was you first, but what you wouldn’t learn until later, is that he would also be your last.
And he’d be the only man to ever have your entire heart.
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Happy Birthday Jordan! An AU just for you! 💖 I adore you and I hope this year is the best one yet!
A big thank you to @callsignspark and @ofstoriesandstardust for their help and beta reading and their woogirling! I appreciate you two so much!
Author's Note: this was a "what-if" AU set in the 'Like I Can' universe! If you want to read about what really happens you can read it here!
You can read more of my stories here!
Taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
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marcsburnerphone · 3 months
Text
And they were roomates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (very minimal), injury(very minimal), john not knowing how to handle certain situation.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3!! - part 4
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That's when it started, the weird energy that set the scene for every interaction between the two of you. He couldn't help but start to see this so-called “tension” gaz had mentioned fulfill its way into your lives. Not only was it your beauty, it was the domesticity that settled in your relationship. You need that lightbulb in your room replaced, you politely knocked on his door, car troubles? Yeah John should know how to do that. But what scared him the most wasn't the attraction he felt towards you, it was your lack thereof. He never seemed to catch you sparing him any extra glances than were necessary. Unlike him he couldn't help but catch his greedy eyes secretly soaking in every inch of you when given the opportunity. 
But he couldn't be further than wrong 
Because at the opposite end of your home your mind seems to be obsessed with the thought of john. What a man he was. He must’ve been getting some back on base and you couldn't even be jealous, aroused though definitely. He's actually all 6 foot something of fine, absolutely climbable. But god does that man often look like he wants not a thing to do with you. Especially most recently you rarely even see him and when you do he barely speaks or spares you a glance.
—-----------------
“Hey, haven't seen you in awhile.” you surprise him extremely early in the kitchen one morning.
“Oh um good morning, I’m fine just been a bit busy. Why are you up so early?” He lies then quickly changes the topic knowing being awake during these hours of the morning  isn’t your forte.
“Scheduled a client for 6AM instead of 6PM and it's too late to cancel.'' He hums in response, willing himself to say something more but his mind comes up blank as it often does in your presence. 
So he leaves without a word and nothing in hand he just leaves. And you stand there absolutely thrown through the loop at the moment that you two just shared. 
—--------------
“We were doing great as roommates. You know I was comfortable and he seemed comfortable but now I swear that man avoids me like the plague.” you say to the longtime client in your chair.
“Maybe he’s just not social.” She chimes in, you concentrate while trying to part her hair before replying.
“I could see that being the case if he hadn’t been so social the previous two weeks you know, we’ve made meals in the kitchen together, watched television in the living room so I don’t understand what changed.” you say applying product to the sectioned hair.
“What if he doesn’t like you?” your hands pause for a second as you ponder the thought.
“Well I guess he doesn’t have to like me to live with me.” you say with very visibly discontent.
“But you on the other hand strive when people like you.” she replies, reading right through you.
“Well yeah I think anybody would.” you shrug.
“Not a military man who’s probably widely hated.” She's always right and you hate it.
“What's not to like about me?” you genuinely couldn't come up with an answer yourself.
“Are you a messy roommate or do you bother him a lot or do you nag him for his mess?” You can’t think of doing any of those but maybe asking for his help from time to time.
“I might be bothering him but nothing I would consider too much , just some help from time to time.” she laughs from her seat and you unenthusiastically spin the chair she's in to face you.
“Was it in the contract that he'd have to help you from ‘time to time’.'' You give her a quizzical look and she just continues.
“Men like to do the bare minimum and that's it. They hate being bothered. Take it from me. I'm married with three sons and they're all the same. Oh they have to do the dishes, sure, but will they dry them, or put them away? No, because that's not what I asked.” you hum understanding her point but still finding it hard to see john really feeling that way.
“So then I shouldn't ask him for anything and maybe he'll come around?” you ask in an unsure tone.
“yup.” she replies blunt, fast and very sure of herself.
—-----------
So you listened, this whole week you've not asked John for a thing which was pretty easy up until now. Your luck never fails to run out at the worst times. A flat tire in the middle of the road on your way home. You pull off to the side contemplating what to do as the sun is beginning to set and there's really only two options.
One, call John and ruin your streak of leaving him be. Two, call the car service company and pay their ridiculous prices to change the tire out. Of course you go with option two cause calling john seems to make you more nervous.
It takes 3 hours for the mechanic to get to where you are, change the tire, and point out other imperfections about your car that you pay no mind to. When you finally make it home you’re bothered, exhausted and broke.
John doesn't miss the unusualness of your late arrival but also doesn't question it, even though he wants to. Your groans of frustration echo through the hallway and he immediately can tell it was a bad day.
You change out of your work clothes and go into the kitchen for a snack as you do your daily phone call to your sister to tell her about the events of your day. John creeks his office door open to hear a little better but nothing noticeable. 
“He charged me six hundred dollars, I mean how is that even legal?” You complain into the phone that’s balanced between your neck and shoulder. 
“It was just my tire that was flat, nothing else.” you follow up while chewing on an apple. You swear you could cry by repeating that monstrosity.
John can't help but feel a bit confused and upset that you hadn't just called him instead of calling whatever dick that charged you that much for something so simple. Changing a tire is an easy 30 minutes that he definitely had on his hands especially for you. You had not hesitated asking for help before so what's changed now?
—-------------
“Okay, unscrew the old bulb and screw in the new bulb, very simple.” you reassure yourself as you stand on top of the tall ladder to replace the porch light. It’s icy outside and cold sweeps under your layers of clothes making your normally shaky hands shakier.
“Okay okay- damn it.” You drop the bulb that burnt out onto the floor watching the glass scatter.
You screw the new one in and step down, closing the latter with frustrated groan, then going to pick up the bigger shards to toss out before sweeping. You should’ve known that bulb glass was insanely thin and sharp but sometimes your brain leaves out the important stuff.
“Ow, fuck fuck fuck.” You cry out at the shard of glass that forms a long clean cut on your palm. You cry as you run into your home holding the cut tightly. Finding the sink you turn the water on and rinse it clean. Your ears don’t comprehend the loud footsteps that make their way towards the kitchen.
“What happened?” A deep voice sighs out behind you.
“Nothing.” Your hiccups escape involuntarily as it continues to bleed dramatically. You squeeze your eyes shut as it begins to burn more and more.
“Let me see.” He tries to grab at your hand genuinely concerned.
“I’m fine, it’s just a cut.” You resist him by keeping your hand under the water.
“Cut from what?” he's a bit frustrated at your refusal of letting his trained mind and hands help.
“I was changing the light bulb outside and one broke.” you admit quietly.
“Why didn’t you ask me to do it?” once again what is with you no longer asking him for his very available help.
“Cause I can handle myself John.” You’re irritated at the obvious evidence that you cannot. Your non wounded hand rips a paper towel from the roll and you hold it to the cut to go bandage it in your room. 
You leave John standing in the kitchen and don’t even look back as you make your way to your room. He stays in that same spot for a second wondering where your random change in attitude is coming from but in the end he comes up blank and goes out to the porch to clean the rest of the glass up.
—----------
You feel terribly guilty when you wake up the next morning to see the porch swept clean and ladder put away from the previous night. You toughen up and put your big girl pants on to go apologize. You knock on his bedroom door and hear ruffling on the other side before he answers.
“hey john i'm really sorry for-” you stop noticing him dressed from head to toe in his military attire and damn.
“For what?” He takes notice of your pause and one up.
“For um the way I acted last night I know you were only trying to help and um why are you dressed like that?” You can’t help but question it.
“I have to go on base for a little bit, maybe a day or two. It shouldn't be too long but who knows, let me grab my check for you.” He walks back into his awfully clean room and grabs something out of a drawer and hands you a white envelope that consists of his monthly rent.
“Oh okay.” You can’t even hide the blush that laces between your features and although he notices it he can’t pinpoint the reasoning.
“Also don’t be sorry we all have our days and I shouldn’t have overstepped.” You nod in response not really knowing what to say. 
“Okay bye then I guess.” You awkwardly wave at him even though you stand mere inches away from his tall frame. 
“Bye doll.” He says before you walk away entirely thrown over whatever conversation that was.
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comments and reposts and appreicated <3
thankyou for all the love on this story so far.
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thewulf · 1 month
Text
Never Let You Go || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - Hiya! Can i request an angsty/fluffy aaron fic?Aaron and reader get into a fight because reader has been ignoring hotch since he forgot her birthday (its been a week after at that point) so he confronts her and they fight.... Read Rest Here
A/N: You guys have the best requests. Please keep sending them in. Hope you like a good little hurt/comfort.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
TW: Yelling, intentional hurt
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It was a rainy Saturday night when your heart broke for the hundredth time under the false promises from your longtime boyfriend, Aaron. You knew what you were getting into when you got into the relationship all those years ago. You knew he worked long hours. You knew he had a son who was his, and now your, priority. You knew he would have to cancel plans, dates, anniversaries. You knew it all. What you didn’t expect was him to forget about your birthday completely. He was home, at the BAU, and worked late instead of coming home and taking you out. You had plans! But he just… forgot.
It wasn’t until you brought it up the next day, mumbling it to him with a saddened look did he recognize he had forgotten. What broke your heart was the fact that he didn’t even make up for it. He didn’t get you flowers or a gift or even apologize. He just… moved on. And you had no idea how much it bothered you until that fateful Saturday night as the rain poured down. You were angry at him. You had accepted the misses and the cancelations. What you couldn’t get over was the fact that he had forgotten it completely and didn’t even want to make it right.
When you heard the lock twist and Aaron entered your shared residence all you wanted to do was run away from him. You didn’t want to talk to him. You didn’t even want to look at him. You weren’t sure if you even wanted to be with him anymore.
When he walked into the kitchen you turned away, busying yourself with unloading the dishwasher.
“Hey baby.” He walked over to you giving you a hug from behind. Aaron wasn’t remiss to the way you tensed under his touch. How you simply mumbled something incoherent to him. It was when you pushed him away did he finally realize something was off.
“Honey, what’s up?” He asked.
Was he playing dumb? Did he really not know just how deeply he had hurt you by ignoring something you loved so much? You knew it was silly, but birthdays were your thing. You were the friend who went all out for others. You just wanted someone to celebrate you the way you had to others, especially Aaron.
You felt tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as your brain got yourself worked up. Maybe it was best to just keep quiet because you had no idea if you could hold back the waterworks. So, instead of answering him you simply walked away. Your momma always taught you it was best to not get into an argument when you were feeling emotional about the situation.
But that seemed to set him off further. You had been cold to him all week. Not greeting him like you normally did. Not leaving out his dinner like you so often would when he worked late. Yet you just couldn’t seem to care. If he didn’t care for you why should you return the favor?
He couldn’t take it anymore. So, he snapped at you. "Are you ever going to talk to me?" Aaron's voice breaks the suffocating silence in the home, the frustration evident in his tone. You were thankful Jack was sleeping over at a friend’s house now. You knew the inevitable fight was bound to happen.
You sat down on the couch, but you didn’t dare turn to face him. "What's there to talk about?" Your voice is icy, the bitterness seeping through each word.
Aaron took a step closer to you, the distance between you feeling like an icy rift he wasn’t quite used to with you. "You know exactly what we need to talk about," he retorts, his patience wearing thin. "You've been ignoring me ever since—"
"Since you forgot my birthday?" You cut him off sharply, your voice laced with resentment. "Yeah, I remember. You’re a profiler. Profile it Aaron." Venom was laced in your voice as you finally made eye contact.
His jaw clenches at the reminder, guilt gnawing at his insides. He messed up, and he knows it. And he knew he had been ignoring it. Ignoring the subtle signs, you left him. He knew how important these things were to you. And he took the cowards route of simply trying to ignore it. He knew better than to do that with you. He had been taking advantage of your kindness thinking you would simply ignore it. But you were reaching your breaking point. And he was exhausted from work. He simply knew this wasn’t about to be a good conversation.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He offered. But the effort felt hallow.
You shook your head blinking back the tears. “You’re just saying that because I’m angry! You had no intention of making it right Aaron!” You hardly ever raised your voice yet here you were, yelling at the man who looked overly tired. He rarely brought home his work with him, but it must’ve been something about his last case that had ravaged him.
He let out a rather obvious sigh of frustration, clearly exhausted. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
You bit back the harsh words you wanted to use. “I wanted you to remember! To apologize for forgetting. I want you to pretend like you give a single shit about me! You couldn’t even remember my birthday?” That was a low blow, and you knew it yet somehow you couldn’t care.
Things were bound to spiral when you saw the anger in his gaze. “I apologized! If you didn’t make such a big deal about something so small this wouldn’t even be a problem. I’m starting to see why I forgot.”
It felt like the wind was knocked out of you right then and there. Each word feeling like another dagger to your already broken heart. Physically, you recoiled as if he had hit you, your eyes were wide with disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that.” You stood from the couch knowing you were going to run away from him. Your voice wavered just above a whisper as you spoke.
Regret washed over his face as he heard your floundering voice. He had taken it too far. Gone a step further than he needed. He crossed that invisible line that held the relationship together. “Baby… I didn’t mean it like that.” His eyes were wide as he reached for you. But you wouldn’t let him touch you, no. Not after those comments. “I’m just tired and frustrated and I just wanted to hold you tonight. I hate that we are fighting over something so stupid. But baby, I don’t know how to fix this. Tell me what I need to do.”
You shook your head rapidly frustrated beyond belief with him. “Something so stupid?” Your voice gave way to the weakness you felt in the moment, “My birthday is stupid now?”
Your words hung heavy in the air between the two of you. Aaron felt that lump form in his throat knowing he had used the wrong words yet again. It felt like he was being crushed over the weight of his mistakes now.
Before he can find the words to respond, you turn on your heel, your shoulders slumped with defeat. "I'm not so sure if there's anything left to fix," you say softly before walking away, leaving him standing alone in the wreckage of your shattered relationship in the living room of your home.
As he watches you disappear down the hallway, Aaron knows that he has lost more than just an argument. He has lost a piece of your heart, and he isn't sure if he will ever be able to win it back. But he is determined to try, no matter what it takes. Because you were worth fighting for, worth every moment of pain and heartache it would take to earn your forgiveness. And as he stood there alone in the empty room, Aaron vowed to do whatever it takes to make things right again. Even if it means confronting the darkest parts of himself and facing the harsh truth of his own shortcomings.
The silence in the house is deafening as Aaron stands outside the closed bedroom door, his heart heavy with regret. He can feel the weight of his mistakes coming own on him, each passing second only serving to deepen the ache in his chest. With a trembling hand, he reaches out and knocks softly on the door, the sound reverberating through the empty hallway. "Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur. "Let me in."
There is no response from the other side, no indication that you have even heard him. But Aaron refuses to give up hope. He knows he has hurt you, but he can't bear the thought of losing you, not now, not ever. And you laid there in your bed, hurting beyond measure trying to ignore the man you loved more than life itself.
"Please, just talk to me," he pleads, his voice cracking with every emotion. "I know I screwed up, but I'm begging you, give me a chance to make it right. Please baby."
Still, there is nothing but silence from the other side of the door, and Aaron feels his heart sink even further. He presses his forehead against the cool wood, his chest constricted with the weight of his longing. You wanted to forgive him, to let him in. But you couldn’t, not yet. No matter how desperate he sounded.
"I can't do this without you," he pleads, his voice barely a whisper. "You mean everything to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness. Just... please, let me in." He tries once more to get you to crack. And it worked. You’d never heard him so desperate. His voice so raw with emotion.
For what felt like an eternity, there was no response, and Aaron feared that he had lost you for good. But just as he is about to give up hope, he hears the faint sound of movement from within the room, followed by the soft click of the door unlocking. As much as you wished you knew you couldn’t ice him out completely. You had both thrown unkind words at the other
His heart leaps with hope as the door cracks open, revealing your tear-streaked face, your eyes red and puffy from crying. Aaron's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, his heart breaking at the pain he has caused. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I never meant to hurt you. Please, let me make it right."
You hesitate for a moment, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. But then, with a resigned sigh, you step aside, silently inviting him into the room. Without a second thought, Aaron crosses the room, pulling you into his arms with a fierce, desperate longing. He holds you close, his heart overflowing with gratitude as he vows to never hurt you like he had just done.
As Aaron holds you tightly against him, he feels the weight of your sorrow pressing against his chest. He can sense the tremors wracking your body, the silent sobs that wring tears from your eyes, and it tears at his soul with a sharp, agonizing ache. "I'm not supposed to be the one who makes you cry," he whispers, his voice thick with remorse. "I'm the one who's supposed to dry your eyes, to chase away your tears, not cause them."
His words hang heavy in the air between you, a painful reminder of the mistakes he had made. He had never wanted to hurt you, never imagined that his actions could bring you to such sadness. And yet, here you are, crumbling in his arms, your heart laid bare for him to see. "I'm so sorry baby," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head as you bury your face against his chest, your tears soaking through the thin fabric of his shirt. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, I promise."
But his assurances feel hollow, meaningless in the face of your pain. He knows that mere words are not enough to mend the wounds he has inflicted, that it will take more than empty promises to earn your forgiveness. For he had let you down so many times before. As Aaron holds you close, he knows that his actions will speak louder than any words he could offer. He will need to show you, day by day, that he is truly sorry, that he is committed to making amends and rebuilding the trust he has shattered.
He begins by being there for you in every way that he could possibly be, anticipating your needs before you even have to ask. He cooked your favorite meals, not because he wants to impress you, but because he wants to show you that he does in fact care about you. He knows you more than you knew yourself.  He listens to you, really listens, to every word you speak, hanging on to your every thought and feeling, eager to understand the depths of your sadness caused by him.
He showers you with small gestures of affection, leaving little notes around the house, reminding you of his love and devotion. He holds your hand when you walk as a reassurance that he will always be by your side, no matter what.
But most importantly, he gives you space when you need it, allowing you the time and freedom to heal at your own pace. He doesn't push you to forgive him, doesn't demand your trust before you are ready. Instead, he remains patient, steadfast in his determination to prove himself worthy of your love once more. And as the days turn into weeks, and the weeks into months, Aaron watches with bated breath as the walls you had erected around your heart begin to crumble. He sees the flicker of hope in your eyes, the tentative smile that graces your lips more and more often. He sees you returning to the light he had let burn out.
And when you finally reach out to him with a certain uncertainty, Aaron knows that he has been given a second chance. A chance to rebuild what they had lost, stronger and more resilient than ever before. And so he takes your hand in his vowing to never let you go, to cherish you, to protect you, to love you with every fiber of his being. As you walk hand in hand into the future, Aaron knows that you have weathered the storm together. The two of you emerged on the other side, whole once more.
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tonyspank · 10 months
Text
I WANNA BE YOURS
Summary: Months after admiring the girl from afar, you finally begin your relationship together.
Warnings: smut and idk…
Words: 9.3k
A/N: Longest imagine ive ever wrote. So please bare with me i did not edit or revise this
Vada Cavell x Footballer!GP! Reader
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You walk through the crowded hallways, a black bookbag hanging off your shoulder. You look around and see the people you know, and those you don't. You make your way to your classroom, immediately recognized by your best friend. "There she is!" He shouts from his seat, raising his hands in the air.
"Ethan... it's like eight in the morning. Why are you shouting?" He laughs and pats the seat next to him. You take your seat and start to unpack your bag. "Coach cancelled practice for today. Something about giving us time to mentally prepare for the game."
You raise an eyebrow in surprise. "That's so unlike him." Ethan nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but I'm not complaining. It's nice to have a day off."
"Wanna hang out after school?" You ask, placing your notebook on your desk. The brown-haired boy leans into his chair, a smug smile on his face. "No, can do."
A smile makes its way on your face. "What's that look for?"
He shrugs, "Oh, nothing. It's just that Mia Reed and I are going to this Taylor Lift concert together."
You snort at the mess up of the Singer's name. "You mean Swift?" He rolls his eyes. "Yes, that's what I said, Taylor Swift." You shake your head, amused. "Just don't make that mistake in front of Mia."
Ethan has had a crush on Mia since middle school. But he's always been too scared to talk to her, so he'd always comment and support her dance videos on Instagram. He would often try to find ways to run into her, but he could never find the courage to talk to her.
"Wait," You furrow your eyebrows, turning to Ethan completely. "How did you even finesse a date with Mia Reed?" Ethan smiles and shrugs. "What do they say again? Drunk words are sober thoughts?"
You shake your head and laugh. "I was drunk out of my mind during Max's spring break party, and then I saw Mia... and I just went for it." You had seen Mia around school but had never actually talked to her.
You were surprised that she even agreed to go out with him. Ethan could be surprisingly daring when he wanted to be. "You're a brave guy," he holds up a finger. "A brave drunk guy!"
"Also you'd never believe who else I seen at Max's party." "Who?" you asked, curious. He grinned, "Fucking baby Adam Sandler, Vada!"
You stared in disbelief. "You're such a liar." He shakes his head, sitting up in his seat. "Bro! I swear to god! She was there! In her oversized clothes and everything."
You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical. He laughs at your facial expression, "Maybe if you had gone then you could've seen yourself." He says in a sing-song tone.
You shake your head and turn away, still unconvinced. He laughs again, "Well, believe me, or not, I'm telling the truth." He shrugs.
Your teacher then walks into the classroom. You glance back at him, trying to figure out if he's telling the truth. He winks at you and turns away, leaving you unsure. As your teacher brings the lesson your mind wanders off.
Vada Cavell, whose last name you only found out due to her Instagram page. Kind of like Ethan, you've been liking Vada for a while but never built up the courage to talk to her or ask her out.
It's been months of admiring her from afar. She was beautiful in person and you found yourself totally mesmerized by her. You liked the way she dressed, unbothered by how anyone else thought of it, you liked the way her smile lit up the room.
You just had to talk to her, but you hesitated. You felt like you could never measure up to her. You wondered if she could ever like you, too.
You only seen Vada talk to her friends from the beginning of the year. It was Nick, Mia, and Quinton. You felt like an outsider, not part of their group.
You were too shy to approach her, and you were afraid of getting rejected. You also felt like you were the total opposite of Vada's type, so you decided to stay on the sidelines and admire her from a distance. You wanted to get to know her but you weren't sure how to start a conversation.
The rest of the day went by fast. Before you knew it you were back home, greeted by your cat and your mom. "Hey, honey. You're home early."
Your mom speaks up from the kitchen, while your cat rubs itself against your leg. Taking off your jacket and bookbag, you smile and reply. "Yeah, coach cancelled practice." You give your cat a few scratches before heading off to the kitchen to join your mom.
"Really? That's surprising." You laugh, peeking into the pot your mom was stirring. "Yeah, that's what I said."
"What are you making?" you ask, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "Spaghetti." She smiles, adding stuff to the pot. You feel a wave of warmth wash over you as the familiar smell of your mom's cooking fills the kitchen.
You watch as she expertly moves around the kitchen, adding ingredients to the pot. "I have to work late tonight, so I figured I'll start dinner early." She stirs the contents and you can smell the delicious aromas wafting from the pot. She gives you a smile, and you are grateful that she is willing to take the time to make dinner for the both of you.
"Ma, you should be resting. I can cook dinner." She waves her hand at you dismissively. "I want to do this. After all, it's my job to take care of you."
She pours some more ingredients into the pot, and the smell of the food intensifies. "What if I got a job? So you don't have to work late shifts anymore?" You suggest, a frown on your face.
She pauses for a moment, before shaking her head. "No, you need to focus on your studies and football. You worked hard for your starting spot, honey." She smiles sadly at you, before stirring the pot and humming a song.
She stops, "Now, go take a shower. It's almost finished." You nod and walk away, feeling a bit defeated. You know she only wants the best for you, but it's still hard to hear. You take a deep breath and head for the bathroom.
You take a long shower, letting the hot water wash away the disappointment. You remind yourself that you are doing your best and that will have to be enough.
Taking a deep breath, you step out of the shower and head back into the kitchen. After eating dinner with your mom, you begin scrolling through Instagram and TikTok. You soon find yourself laughing at memes and videos, allowing yourself to forget the stresses of the day for a few moments.
Hours pass and you soon realize it's time for bed. You turn off your phone and crawl into bed, just as you're about to drift off to sleep, your phone dings. It was a message from Ethan.
ethan - best fucking concert ever
ethan - im officially a swiftie
ethan - taylor's songs are anthems for my life. everything she does is iconic. she's my queen.
you - i'm guessing it went well with mia?
ethan - well? it went amazing bro
ethan - she wanted to hang out tmr but she has plans w adam sandler
you - oh thats a shame
ethan - omg i jus got the best idea evr
you - which is
ethan - A DOUBLE DATE
you - ethan no.
You place down your phone, and it vibrates from the amount of messages you're receiving. You lay back down, but of course, your phone starts ringing. And it's Ethan, obviously.
You sigh, but you pick up the call anyway. "Listen to me! It's a great idea!" He shouts through the speakers of your phone, You groan and roll your eyes, but you can't help but be amused. You reply, "Okay, I'm listening."
Ethan begins to explain his idea in more detail, "Okay look! If I text Mia, right now saying what if me and you both go to the arcade with them, she'll be like sure! Then that means I get to hang out with Mia and you finally get to meet Vada."
Ethan smiled, knowing he had found the perfect plan. You chew the inside of your cheeks, debating if you should agree to Ethan's plan. You take a deep breath and finally give in, deciding that this could be the start of something good.
He quickly texts Mia, and after a few moments, she replies agreeing. "Looks like we got ourselves a double date." Ethan and Mia started to chat excitedly about the date, and you couldn't help but feel a bit of excitement as well. You hadn't been on a date in a while and it felt like a new adventure. But was this actually a date, or just a way to hang out with friends? You weren't sure.
You woke up to a shout of your name. You quickly scrambled out of bed and rushed to the living room. There was your mom standing in the doorway with a wide grin on her face and Ethan right beside her.
"Ethan's here." You send a tired smile to your mom, "How was work?" She shrugs, "It was alright. Come here and give Ethan a hug." You side-eye Ethan, who opens his arms wide, a goofy smile on his face.
"C'mon Y/N/N! Hug me!" You reluctantly walk over and give Ethan a hug. He squeezes you tightly and laughs. Your mom smiles, watching the two of you before turning to head upstairs. Ethan lets you go and gives you a pat on the back.
You take a few steps back and he grins at you. You smile back, "Why are you here so early?" Ethan shrugs, "Your mom said it was okay. Plus it's 3 o'clock in the afternoon." You nod, and Ethan takes a seat on the couch.
He looks around and then turns back to you, "So, what have you been up to today?" You shrug, "Not much. Sleeping."
"I can tell," he motions his hands above his head, basically telling you your hair was a mess. You laugh and run your hand through your hair, trying to tame it. You look back at Ethan and smile, "What about you? What have you been up to?" He grins, "Talking to Mia."
"Oh, really?" You raise your eyebrows. "And what did she have to say?" He shrugs. "She said that they'll be at the arcade at around six."
You nod, sitting down on the couch as well. "Wanna watch The Walking Dead?" He nods and smiles. "Sure, let's watch it!" You grab the remote and search for the show getting comfortable on the couch. The episode starts with a bang, and you both settle in to watch.
Two hours later, you two are still glued to the screen, eagerly awaiting the next plot twist. Once the episode ends, you turn to your friend and say, "Shit! What time is it?"
Ethan, eyes wide, checks his watch and gasps. "We have to go, now!" He exclaims. You both jump up but you pause, "Wait! I gotta shower, do my hair-"
"Less talking and more doing!" Ethan pushes you to the stairs, and you begin sprinting up them, almost running into your mom. She steps aside to let you pass, a mix of surprise and amusement on her face as she watches you go.
Quickly you take a shower and change into a clean set of clothes. Not before fixing your hair and spraying on cologne, you head downstairs, ready and excited. Ethan is waiting for you, a satisfied smirk on his face, and together you leave.
When you arrive at the arcade you see Mia and Vada. Mia's smiling and waving excitedly at you both while Vada kicks a nearby rock. You both walk over and Mia gives Ethan a big hug.
Vada stands off to the side, her arms crossed but a small smile on her face. You look around and see the arcade bustling with activity, and you know you're in for a night of fun. "Hey, guys!" Ethan says, smiling. You look at Vada, and your heart beats like crazy.
"Hey, Vada." She smiles. "Ready for a night of fun?" she asks, her eyes twinkling. You can only nod as you follow the couple into the arcade. Almost immediately, Ethan and Mia go off and do their own thing leaving you and Vada alone.
Vada points to a game ahead of you. "Let's see who can get the highest score," she says with a mischievous smile. You nod and the two of you start to play. After a few minutes of intense competition, Vada ends up with the highest score.
She laughs and celebrates her victory, and you can't help but smile widely. "If I knew you were such a sore winner I would've tried harder." Vada gives you a playful shove and giggles. "You'll have to try harder next time!" she says. The two of you soon move on to the next game.
In watching you press the start button, Vada admits, "I'm bad at basketball." You pick up a ball, looking at her smiling. "That's ok, I'm pretty bad at it too," you reply. She furrows her eyebrows, "I thought you played basketball?" You shoot the ball, and it doesn't even hit the rim.
"Actually-" She starts, and you let out a loud laugh. She joins in your laughter. "I play football," you say continuing the shoot the remaining balls in front of you.
"But like aren't you supposed to at least have good accuracy? A blind person could shoot better than you." You chuckle, "I'm more of a receiver, not a quarterback." You shoot the last ball which ends up bouncing out of the cage from hitting the rim.
You catch the ball easily, placing it down. She shakes her head and grins. "I stand by my statement. You're terrible." She presses the button, picking up the basketball in front of her. "Watch and learn."
The first one she shoots goes in, "Lucky shot." You mumble, and she smiles in response. The second one also goes in, and the third and fourth too. "You lied to me. You said you sucked." She laughs, and sets up the next shot. "I never said I was suck, I just said I was bad." She takes the shot and it swishes through the net. "What the fuck?"
She turns to you and grins. "You see? I told you I was bad, not suck." You can only stare in amazement as she lines up the next shot and scores again. She laughs and walks away, leaving you in awe. "You lied!" You yell out as you follow her. She laughs again. "I'll let you in on a secret."
She stops and turns around, her face serious. "In order to score all the shots, you have to aim for the back of the rim. And then once you do that, calculate how much power you're putting into your shot. That way you'll be able to get a better idea of the trajectory the ball will take. And you'll have a better chance of making the shot." You squint your eyes at the girl, tilting your head a bit.
She bites her lip in response. Adorable, she thinks. "How do you know all of that? Or like, how'd you even figure that out?" She shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. "I came here before with Quinton." Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really? You two are...close?"
"We're friends." Is all she says. She looks away and takes a deep breath. "But yeah, he's a good friend." She smiles and looks back up at you, her eyes twinkling. "Wanna get something to drink?"
You nod and smile, and the two of you head to grab a drink. "Look, I'm gonna show you how to make the best slushie you'll ever fucking taste in your life." You grab a cup, joining Vada in front of the slushie machine.
Vada begins to explain the steps, and you find yourself getting more and more invested in the process. You join in, and together you prepare the perfect slushie. You take a sip and it's everything Vada promised. "Wow."
"Right!" Vada grins with satisfaction. Your eyes look around the arcade and you notice Ethan and Mia shooting water blasters at the target together. "You know, they're kind of cute together." Vada looks at the two, nodding in agreement. "It was bound to happen eventually. She's been crushing on the guy since sixth grade."
You furrow your eyebrows, your head snapping at the shorter girl next to you. "Really? Ethan too!" Vada laughs, a smile on her face. "That's crazy. It's been obvious to everyone but them." She turns back to the two, watching them laugh and shoot water blasters in sync. "They just need to tell each other how they feel."
"I mean...It's not that simple." You say, taking another sip of your slushie. Vada shrugs. "It's worth a try. I mean, what have they got to lose?" You shake your head. "I don't know. It's a risk they might not want to take."
You're beginning to wonder if you're talking about Ethan or yourself. Vada looks at you with a knowing look. "You never know. Sometimes taking a risk can be the best thing to do." You take a deep breath, considering her words. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
"I'm glad you agreed to come, I would've been third-wheeling the entire night." You laugh, "I'm glad I came too." You never know. Sometimes taking a risk can be the best thing to do. Vada's words basically repeat in your head, "I uh, I've actually been wanting to talk to you for a while." You admit.
She looks surprised but pleased. "Really? I had no idea!" You nod and smile, feeling relieved that you finally said it. "Yeah! I just didn't know how to approach you." She smiles, her dimples appearing on her cheeks. "Dude, it's not like I would've bit you if you tried to make a conversation with me."
You both laugh and the tension between you dissipates. She looks at you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "So, what do you want to talk about?" You shrug, using your straw to stir around your drink. "Favorite color?"
"Easy. All of them." She smiles and takes a sip of her drink. "I guess I can't argue with that. Favourite movie?" She pauses for a moment, thinking. "It's hard to pick just one, but I think it's The Staircase. I watched it a thousand times." You hum, "I've never watched it before."
"Wait, what?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "You have to watch it. It's a classic!" You shrug. "I'll watch it. What's it about?" She grins. "It's about this white guy who murders his second wife, and probably his first wife, and gets away with both."
You look at her, surprised. "That sounds intense. Is it a true story?" She laughs. "No, it's a movie. You'll love it. What's yours?"
You open your mouth to speak but she cuts you off. "Lemme guess. Tom Brady Documentary: True Stories." You start to laugh. "Yeah, that's it. It's a classic." She laughs. "See, I knew it!"
"But actually, it has to be How To Build a Better Boy." You say, watching her face to see her reaction. She looks shocked, "Wait that one sappy Disney movie?"
"It's not sappy." She laughs, "Yeah, right. I'm sure it's full of life lessons and cheesy dialogues." You smirk, "Maybe, but it's still worth watching."
She shakes her head, "I don't believe you. There's no way it can be that good." You shrug, "Trust me. I promise you won't regret it." Vada takes another sip of her drink, only to realize she's finished it. She looks up at you with a questioning gaze.
You smile and offer her some of your drink. "Trust me how I trusted you to make this drink." Vada hesitates, then takes the drink from you. "Okay. I'll watch it tonight, and then first thing in the morning I'll tell you if it was good or bad."
You nod and watch her take a sip. "You'd need my number for that." She smiles, takes out her phone and hands it to you. You add your number, then hand it back. "I'll be waiting for your call then." You wink and she laughs, taking another sip of the drink.
Ethan and Mia make their way toward you two, smiles on their faces. "You guys ready to go?" You both nod, and you all make your way out of the arcade. You all walk out, the cool night air bringing a sense of peace. You and the girl share a glance, and she smiles. You both head to your respective cars and drive off in different directions.
"How was it with Vada?" You reply, "It was great. She's a really cool girl." Ethan smiles and you ask him how it went with Mia. "We had our first kiss." Ethan's face lit up with excitement. "WHEN?"
He shyly looks away and replies, "Just a few minutes ago. You missed it being too oo la la with Vada." You roll your eyes smiling and give him a high five. Ethan grins and says, "It was amazing." He then pulls out of the parking lot, turning on his blinker and making a left towards your place.
Meanwhile, in Mia's car, she and Vada are talking about you. Mia teases Vada about her crush on you. Vada blushes and laughs, still a little embarrassed. "I mean she's cute and I can tell she really likes you."
Vada looked away, still blushing. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, laughing. Mia just smiled and shook her head. As soon as Vada got home she was questioned by her mom.
Vada quickly changed the subject, not wanting her mom to know what had happened. Vada's mother gave her a knowing look but didn't press the issue. Instead, she just said, "Well, I'm glad you had a good time." Vada smiled and nodded, grateful that her mom hadn't pushed the matter any further.
She fell against the couch, hesitating before turning on How To Build a Better Boy, your favourite movie. The movie started and Vada felt a sense of relief as her mom left the room. She curled up in her blanket and let herself get lost in the movie.
"Perfect boy but his name is Albert! And how'd he get a car...plus why'd he just throw his keys to a random guy?" Vada mumbles to herself, confused at the logic of the movie.
She giggled at the absurdity of it all, hoping the movie would eventually make sense. Despite the silliness, she couldn't help but be drawn in by the characters and their stories. Vada watched with anticipation as the movie unfolded, eager to find out what would happen next.
Until Amelia comes down, standing in front of the TV. Vada groans at her little sister, "Dude. I'm trying to watch something." Amelia turns to her with a small frown, "I wanna watch too." Vada reluctantly scoots over to make room for her, rolling her eyes in an attempt to hide her growing smile. They cuddle up on the couch, ready for whatever the movie had in store.
The sisters watched the movie, laughing and pointing out silly things until it was time for bed. Vada tucked Amelia in, giving her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, before heading off to dreamland herself.
When you woke up in the morning the first thing you did was grab your phone, checking for any recent messages. You felt a wave of disappointment as you saw that no one had messaged you. You decided to go downstairs to make breakfast.
Your mom had already left for work, so it was just you and your cat, Goose. You started making a simple omelet. It was one of your go-to recipes. But gosh, was it delicious.
As you ate the omelet, you had a moment of peace, just you and your cat, and the warm and comforting taste of the omelet. Goose jumps onto the table, meowing in your face. "Goose down."
Goose meows in protest, but eventually jumps off the table. You take a deep breath, savouring the last bite of the omelet. You look down at Goose and smile, "I'll make sure to give you a treat later." Goose purrs in response, contentedly rubbing against your leg. You get up to clean the kitchen, and your phone goes off in the middle of the dishes.
xxx-xxx-xxxx - ok. i'd admit it's a very good movie
You smile, she had finally texted you.
you - see it's not sappy, but a work of art
vada - i wouldnt take it that far
you - lol, i still have to watch the stairless
Three dots appear on the screen, then disappear. You frown, continuing to wash the dishes. You pause and turn off the water, drying your hands. You pick up your phone again, Vada had texted back.
vada - we could watch it at my place
you - when?
vada - today if u want
you - ok sure
you - send me ur address
You ring the doorbell, shifting your weight from one leg to the other anxiously. "Mom! Do not open the-" The muffled voice stops once the door is swung open. You stand there, frozen, unable to move. The blonde woman smiles at you, "Hi! You must be Vada's friend. Mia is it?" You shake your head, hearing a groan come from inside the house. "Mom, this is Y/N."
You smile awkwardly, feeling embarrassed. Mom chuckled and stepped aside, motioning for you to come in. You nervously step inside, smiling at the woman who let you in.
Vada sends you a wave which you return, placing your hands in your pocket. You take a deep breath as you take in your surroundings. The home was warm and inviting, with decorations all around the place.
You follow Vada, who leads you to the living room. She offers you a seat and you sit down, feeling somewhat more at ease. "Sorry about that." You wave it off, "It's fine. She seems sweet."
"If sweet means extremely noisy and out of touch with this generation, then yes. She's very sweet." Vada sighs and sits down on the couch next to you. You can't help but laugh at her comment. She shakes her head and smiles. "She means well, I suppose." She says with a shrug.
You lean further back into the red couch, as Vada picks up the remote turning on The Stairless. Vada and you sit back and watch the movie, exchanging comments and laughs. Time passes quickly, and soon enough you both find yourselves lost in the story. "Off the bat, I knew he killed his first wife." You laugh, slightly turning your head to Vada. "I'm telling you, he did it!" Vada exclaimed.
You both chuckle and then continued watching the movie. As the movie plays, the closer you two get. Now leaning into each other, you can feel the warmth of Vada's body as your hands occasionally brush against each other.
Your conversations become more meaningful, and the laughs become genuine. The movie fades away, and all that's left is the two of you, living in the moment.
As the credits rolled, you both looked at each other in amazement. "That was one hell of a movie," you say. "I told you. That movie is the shit." You sit up a bit, your shoulder brushing against Vadas. "Okay, rate How to Build a Better Boy and then I'll rate this."
Vada takes a moment to think, then finally responds. "It was an 8/10 for me," she says. "I really enjoyed it. How about mine?" You pause to consider the movie before finally saying, "Hmm, I'd give it a 9/10. Definitely worth watching again."
Vada grins. "I knew you'd like it." She leans back against the couch and stretches her arms out. "I'm glad we got to watch it together." You give her a smile and nod in agreement.
You give her a smile and nod in agreement. You both take a few minutes to relax in the comfortable silence. Then, you break it.
"I'm really craving one of your slushies." Vada laughs. "Wanna get one?" You nod and she jumps up, pulling you up from the couch. "Let's get Albert!" Furrowing your eyebrows, you both head out the door. "Albert?"
Vada laughs again. "I was thinking about it and you literally are the fully human version of him, except you don't really look alike." You roll your eyes, but you can't help but laugh. "Albert's a douche, I'm not a douche."
Vada snorts as you unlock your chair door, getting inside together. "Albert is not a douche. He's a sweet young boy who cares about his girlfriend, and he's really good at football."
You can't help but smile, shaking your head. "Yeah, okay, maybe he's not a douche." Vada grins as you start the engine. "Exactly. So therefore you're Albert." You chuckle and put the car in gear. "Are you trying to say that I'm perfect and really good at football?"
She laughs."No, I'm saying you're not a douche. Now let's go! The slurpies are calling my name." You roll your eyes and drive away, the two of you laughing as you go.
Since that day you've been texting Vada non-stop. She doesn't seem to mind it either. You feel like you can talk to her about anything. And to add to that, you've also been talking during school. Vada had even come over to meet your cat, when your mom was at work. You two have become really close over the past few weeks. Every day you look forward to talking to her and spending time with her. You can't help but feel like you are falling for her.
"Are you coming to my game tonight?" Vada smiled at you and nodded. You felt your heart flutter. You knew for sure, you were starting to fall in love. "Yeah, of course. Even though I barely understand football." You laugh at her response, leaning into the lockers. She smiles back, her eyes twinkling. "I'll explain the rules to you," you say, your voice soft as it can be. Vada can feel her heart skip a beat, and you smile at her.
She looked away for a moment, then back into your eyes. "But if you don't carry four people on your shoulders and score like Albert, then I'm leaving mid-game." She jokes causing you to smile. You tried to think of a witty reply, but all you could do was laugh. "I'll try my best."
She smiled and put her hand on your shoulder. "That's all I ask." She patted your shoulder and walked away. You watched her leave, feeling content with your exchange. Ethan, who you didn't notice was behind you places a hand on your shoulder.
You jump in surprise. "Jesus!" He laughs. "You should relax, man. I didn't mean to scare you." He removed his hand and stepped back. You take a deep breath and let it out, relieved.
"What were you guys talking about?" You shrug, "Nothing important. She's coming to our game tonight." Ethan's eyes widen in shock, "Are you serious?" "Yeah, why?" You reply, slightly confused. He shakes his head, "Nothing, just... Mia asked herself and Vada said no."
"Hm..." You hum, unsure of what to take from the situation. "I don't know maybe she changed her mind last second." A goofy smile makes its way onto Ethan's face, "Or maybeeeeee... she likes you."
You look away, blushing. "No way," you say, shaking your head. "She's definitely not interested in me that way." Ethan gives you a knowing look. "You've been talking for weeks. I've seen the way she looks at you," he says. "You should ask her out dude." You hesitate, not sure if you should take his advice.
The bell rings, and you look at Ethan with a smirk. "Saved by the bell." Ethan rolls his eyes and laughs. "Just ask her," he says, and you cover your ears humming as you walk through the hallway.
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"Check, check! Elvis, Elvis!" Ethan yells. You look at the cornerback in front of you, and give Ethan a thumbs up. You take a deep breath and get into your stance. You know that if you can get past the cornerback, and potentially win your team some yards. You focus on the cornerback and wait for the snap.
The snap comes and you explode off the line. You easily beat the cornerback and break into the open field. You know you have a chance to make a big play and you sprint as fast as you can. Ethan throws the ball to you, and you catch it successfully.
Only making it to the 45-yard line before you're tackled. The crowd erupts in cheers as you get up from the tackle, smiling. You know you've made a huge play and energized your team. As you jog back to the huddle, you can feel the momentum shifting in your favour.
The team regroups and prepares for the next play. Everyone is pumped up and ready to take it to the end zone. Ethan calls the next play and the team breaks the huddle, ready for action. Ethan snaps the ball, handing it off to the running back who earns just about 8 yards from the play. It's third down, and you need 10 more yards to get to first.
Ethan calls out the next play and the team runs it perfectly. The running back manages to break free and run for 20 yards, giving the team a first down. The team cheers in excitement as they get a fresh set of downs and move closer to the end zone. "Y/N," you perk up at the sound of your name, "Be ready." You nod as Ethan pats your helmet.
You take a deep breath as you prepare yourself for the next play. You watch as Ethan signals the play and the team begins running it. You run up to the line of scrimmage, ready to make your move.
You see a gap in the defence and make your move, sprinting forward. You catch the football with both hands and take off, running for the endzone. You feel the wind in your face as you cross the goal line and score the touchdown.
The crowd erupts in cheers as you spike the ball in celebration. You jog back to the sidelines, feeling a sense of accomplishment and pride. You know you just made a game-winning play.
Meanwhile, Vada is in the stands beside Mia yelling, "GOAALLLLLLLLL!" Mia and Vada jump up and down excitedly, hugging each other in joy. The crowd continues to cheer as you take off your helmet and raise your arm in triumph. You feel a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that your hard work has paid off.
You wave to your mom who waves back, a huge smile on her face. "That's what I'm talking about!" Your coach saying patting your back. You take off your helmet, rubbing the sweat off your forehead with your towel. "Just one more touchdown and we've made it to the playoffs, baby."
You take a moment to take in the sound of the cheering crowd and the feel of the cool night air. The team gathers together in a huddle, the defensive team heading onto the field.
As the players take their positions on the field, the energy in the stadium is palpable. The coaches call out the plays and the team readies for the snap. The opposite team's quarterback takes the ball and the game resumes.
Thankfully your defensive side was able to stop the other team, and you're back on the field. Your team huddles up and the coach gives the next play. You take your position and get ready for the snap. As the ball is snapped, you make your move and the play is underway.
You make a break for the end zone, dodging and weaving past the other team's defence. Catching the ball with ease, you can feel the cheers of the crowd getting louder as you get closer. You feel someone hop on your back, but you continue running.
You keep going until you cross the goal line and score the winning touchdown. The crowd erupts as you raise your arms in victory. You look back to see your opponent still on your back, frustrated and disappointed.
The referee quickly signals for a touchdown and you can see the joy on your teammates' faces. You look back at your opponent and offer a friendly handshake to congratulate them on a good game. The team celebrates your victory as the crowd continues to roar.
You run to the sidelines, ecstatic about the win. The coaches congratulate you on your performance and the team gathers for a group hug. You look into the stands and see Vada staring back at you, her mouth open in shock. You take off your helmet, dropping it on the ground before holding up a heart.
Vada smiles and laughs, she mimes a heart back to you, and you smile widely. Ethan brings you into a tight hug, patting your back, "HELL YEAH!" You finally feel the euphoria of a victory. You had worked so hard and it had all paid off.
You look back at the field one last time, taking in the feeling of success before you turn to join your team in their celebration. You have made it, and nothing can take this moment away from you.
Moments pass and the entire team makes its way into the locker room. Everyone is in high spirits, laughing, hugging and even dancing to the sound of the music playing in the background. You can't help but smile, happy about the win.
As the team disperses, the coach takes you aside. He looks you in the eye and says "I'm proud of you. Great job today." You feel a thank him before leaving the locker room, walking outside to the front of the school building.
Ethan, Mia, and Vada are already there waiting. Once Vada sees you she runs to you, basically jumping into your arms. You hug her tightly, feeling a warmth inside. "You did it!" She shouts, her eyes bright with excitement.
"You like actually carried that guy onto your back? I told you you're Albert!" You laugh and hug her again. "Thanks, Vada." You are interrupted by a throat being cleared, and it's your mom.
"Hey, Ma." Your mom smiles at you, holding out her arms and you step into them, contentment washing over you. She pulls away slightly, with a proud smile and says, "You should be proud of yourself, Y/N. You did something remarkable today."
You smile, feeling a warmth in my chest. "I'm glad you think so," She hugs you again and says, "I always have, sweetheart. Now go hang out with your friends." You smile wider, feeling a warmth in your chest and your eyes start to mist.
You hug her tightly and thank her, before turning to go. You pause for a moment and look back, feeling so thankful for the unconditional love you have been given.
"TIME TO PARTYYYYY!" Ethan shouts from beside Mia, who joins him. You shake your head at the two, turning to Vada who raises her head, joining in as well. You can't help but laugh at their enthusiasm and join in, feeling the energy of the night.
The four of you make your way towards Max's house. He's known for throwing the best parties at your school, but you've never gone to any of them. You've never really had a reason to, but now you kind of do.
You knock on the door and Max welcomes you all in. The house is filled with people, and loud music and the air is thick with laughter and energy. You can feel a sense of anticipation and excitement as you all take in the scene.
You look around and take it all in, feeling a bit overwhelmed but excited. You make your way through the crowd, looking for a place to sit down and relax. You finally find a spot and settle in, ready to enjoy the party. "No way you're sitting down at a party," Vada says from beside you. You swallow your drink before sending a small smile at her.
She grins and grabs your hand, leading you to the dining room. "We're gonna play beer pong. I hope you have better accuracy."
"Any challengers?" A dark-haired boy says from the other side of the table, his friend close by. "Yeah." You speak up, wrapping an arm around Vada's shoulders. "Me and her," Vada smiles, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ready to go?" you ask, and she nods.
The boy nods, "Okay. But just know beer pong is my calling." You and Vada exchange a knowing look, and you set up the table. The game begins and you soon find yourself in a heated battle with the dark-haired boy.
It's drink after drink, throw after throw, and soon the game is over. The boy is declared the winner with a triumphant grin on his face. Vada and you exchange an impressed look and congratulate him on his victory.
"I can't believe he won that." You mutter, a bit tipsy. Vada shakes her head, "I can. You still suck at aiming balls into stuff." You laugh and throw your hands up in defeat. "You're right, I do. But maybe I'll get better one day." You continue following Vada around the party until she suggests something.
"Wanna get high?" You look around the party and then back at Vada, "Let's do it." She smiles and grabs your hand, leading you away from the party. You quickly found a secluded corner outside, and she produced a joint from her pocket. Taking a lighter from her other pocket, "You always have a lighter and a joint in your pocket?"
She laughed, "No but... I knew I'd be going to this party. I wanted to prepare myself." You hum with a nod, Vada's eyes leave the joint before meeting yours. "Have you done this before?" You shake your head, "No. I haven't.."
She smiles, takes the joint and takes a deep breath. "It's ok, I'll show you how."Vada inhaled, and slowly exhaled. She passed the joint back to you and said, "Just take a tiny puff. Don't hold it in, just let it out." You took the joint and followed her advice. You felt a tingle in your chest as the smoke lingered in the air. You coughed a bit, but it was a good feeling. You exhaled and smiled. "See? Not so bad."
You handed the joint back to Vada, feeling a bit more at ease. You sit down on the grass, and Vada joins you laughing. "Just wait till it hits."  You close your eyes and lean your head back, savouring the moment.
You feel the warm sun on your skin and the cool grass beneath you. You can feel the effects of the marijuana start to take hold, and a peaceful calm overtakes you. "I wonder what kind of high you'll be."
"There kinds?" You smile and nod, feeling content. "There's the body high, the mental high, and the spiritual high. Each one has its own unique experience." You take a deep breath and sigh, feeling the effects of the marijuana wash over you.
You close your eyes and relax, feeling the tension in your body slowly dissipate. You smile, feeling a sense of peace and clarity that you hadn't felt in a long time. You open your eyes and take another deep breath, feeling a deep sense of connection to the world around you.
"I wonder who wrote the script for How to Build a Better Boy," Vada's eyes widen. She can't believe that's what you're talking about mid-smoke. You laugh and shrug. "It's just something I thought of. I was just trying to relax." She smiles, understanding. "Well, it seems like it worked. You look much calmer now."
You take a deep breath and smile. "Yeah, I guess it did. I'm glad I was able to take my mind off things for a bit." Vada nods in agreement, then takes a deep drag from the joint. You both take a moment to enjoy the silence and the feeling of companionship.
You turn to the shorter girl, smiling. "I wanna kiss you. Badly, I've been wanting to kiss you, but now I just really really really-" You're cut off by a pair of lips onto yours. You close your eyes and kiss her back, savouring the moment. When you pull away, you can't help but smile.
You look into her eyes and feel a warmth inside you that you never thought was possible. "I've been wanting to kiss you too." You smile wider, bringing her back into an intense kiss.
Bringing the girl into your lap, gripping her waist tightly. You can feel her heart pounding against your own. You can feel her body relax into your embrace as you kiss her more passionately. You don't know if this is just Vada or the cannabis you've inhaled, but this is definitely one of the best kisses you've had.
She pulls away and smiles at you, her eyes twinkling. You can feel the electricity between you, like something that will never be broken. You know this moment will stay with you forever.
She leans in and whispers in your ear, "I love you." You can feel your heart swell at the words. You hold her close and whisper back, "I love you too." Everything around you fades away and all that is left is the two of you in this moment. You kiss her tenderly as your hearts beat in unison.
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"You've gotta be quiet!" Vada whisper yells at you, trying her best to support your weight. You nod and press your lips together, trying your best to muffle the sound of your breathing.
You feel Vada's arms tremble as she carries you through the darkness. You can sense her fear. "Ma is probably..." You start snoring and begin laughing at your own joke.
Hopefully, your mother is sleeping because of the way you're acting right now, she'd definitely tell if you're not sober. Vada stops walking and scolds you.
She tells you to keep quiet and you quickly apologize. You try to remain quiet for the remainder of the journey, but you can't help but feel a bit of excitement as you approach your bedroom.
On the second to last step, there's a creaking noise. You both tense up at the sound, waiting there a few moments before resuming your movements.
"Are we gonna make out, V?" Vada blushes, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Shh, we're almost to your room." You make it to the room, closing the door behind you. Vada then pushes you onto the bed, plopping down beside you with a heavy sigh.
You begin giggling, turning to the girl beside you. She smiles, leaning in closer. You close your eyes, feeling her warm breath on your face. You both press your lips together, eagerly exploring each other.
Your heart races as you feel her hands on your back. You break away, looking into her eyes. You both share a knowing smile, "Are you sober enough to consent?" You nod, "Yes. Now hurry... sober thoughts and drunk thoughts."
Vada laughs at your mess-up, fuck it. She was high as hell as well. She was just handling it way better than you.
You both kissed again, feeling the warmth as your bodies pressed against each other. You felt the alcohol between you, but you both knew that you were sober enough to make a conscious decision. Your hearts were pounding as you embraced each other, both of you eager for more.
You pull away, climbing onto of Vada. Vada smiles up at you as you look deep into her eyes. You lean in and kiss them passionately, your hands exploring her body. You two stay like this for what feels like an eternity, until finally you pull away, and you begin undressing.
You throw your hoodie away, and try to rip apart your white tank top but fail. Vada notices your frustration and giggles, then helps you take off your tank top, revealing your toned abs. She smiles, before reaching up and kissing you again.
She then fumbles with the buttons of your pants, and pulls them down, before pushing you onto the bed. She climbs on top of you, and begins to passionately kiss your neck and chest. You can feel her hands trailing up and down your body as she continues to kiss you.
She moves her hands to your back and pulls you closer. You can feel her breath on your skin as she whispers into your ear. She then moves her lips to yours and you become lost in the moment.
You pull away slightly, "Vada take off your damn clothes." You say fiddling with her shirt. She complies taking off her bra as well. Your mouth moves to her chest, kissing, licking and suckling as your hands wander to her shorts. You slip them off her hips, leaving her in just her panties.
She moans in pleasure as you continue your ministrations.
You move your hands further down, gently stroking her inner thighs. You pause, taking in her beauty before slowly slipping off her panties.
She smiles at you, her desire and anticipation palpable in the air. "My heart is racing so much," she admits, smiling. "Mine too," you reply, leaning in to kiss her.
Her lips are soft and inviting, and you can feel the heat of her body radiating around you. You both lose yourself in the moment, the anticipation of what's to come envelops you both.
You flip her over, laying her on her back. You begin to explore her body with your hands. Her skin is soft and smooth beneath your fingertips. She moans softly, her eyes closed in pleasure. "Y/N..."
You move your hands up and down her body, exploring every inch of her. She gasps softly as you reach her most sensitive areas. You press your lips against her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body.
She grabs hold of your hair, her moans getting louder as you keep going. You feel her body quiver beneath you as you continue to pleasure her, her breathing becoming rapid and her body shaking with pleasure.
You can feel her nearing her climax and you increase the intensity of your motions, pushing her over the edge. Her body convulses with pleasure as she reaches her orgasm. "Ohmygod."
You kiss her body as she recovers from her orgasm, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She looks up at you with a satisfied smile, her eyes still filled with pleasure. You return her smile, happy to have been able to bring her pleasure.
You feel yourself hard against your underwear, and you know that you're ready for your own pleasure. You pull her closer to you and whisper in her ear, letting her know that you're ready. She responds with a mischievous grin, her hand moving to pleasure you.
You moan as her hand slides up and down, the pleasure building inside you. She moves her lips to yours, her tongue exploring your mouth as her hand continues to work its magic.
You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and you grab her hand to slow her down. She smiles in understanding and pulls away, the pleasure ebbing away. You look into each other's eyes, and you both know that this is only the beginning. "I'm gonna grab a condom." You mumble, rushing off the bed and into your drawer.
She nods in agreement, and you can sense the anticipation in the air. You come back to the bed, and she eagerly takes the condom from you. Opening the gold wrapper, you take out the condom and unroll it onto yourself, before moving to lie on top of her.
She wraps her arms around you as you take a deep breath as you slowly slide inside her, and you both gasp in pleasure.
You both moan in pleasure as you start to move, and she wraps her legs around you. You start to build up momentum, faster and faster, as you move together. The friction of the condom creates a warm, smooth sensation that sends pleasure through both of you with each thrust.
With each movement, you feel your connection with her deepen and you can feel the sensations in both your bodies become more intense.
"Vada," you sigh out, resting your head in the nape of her shoulder. She looks up at you and smiles, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. You kiss her softly and she wraps her arms around you tightly.
You can feel the warmth radiating from her body and you feel the love you have for her in that moment. You want to stay like this forever and the thought of having to part from her is too much to bear. You tightly embrace her and whisper that you love her. You feel her body trembling as she returns the embrace.
"I'm about to cum." She moans into your ear as she cums. You feel her body quivering and it sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. You hold her tight as you release as well. You collapse onto the bed, panting heavily. You lay there in each other's arms for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You kiss each other tenderly and drift off to sleep.
"Was I your first time?" She replies with a soft whisper, "No, Mia was." Your head snaps to her and she laughs, sighing out shortly after.
You take a moment to process what she said. "Really?" She nods, "It happened... multiple times... the fifth week of school." You take a deep breath and look away for a moment, trying to contain your confusion.
"Was I yours?" You shake your head smiling, "No, Ethan was." She lets out a loud laugh at your joke, laying her head on your chest. You take a deep breath and hold her close.
You feel a wave of emotions wash over you, grateful for the moment of comfort. You are filled with a sense of peace, knowing that you have someone to talk to and share your feelings with.
"I need to shower." You say. Vada nods rolling over. "You can join me, but you gotta be quiet." You smile, "Oh, you're telling me to be quiet now?"
You chuckle and lead her into the bathroom. You both take your time showering, enjoying the warmth of the water and each other's company. After, you dry off and return to your bedroom, both content and peaceful.
You wake up to a shout of your name. Looking to your left you notice Vada is still sound asleep. "Fuck," you rush up out of bed putting on your clothes before nearly darting downstairs to the kitchen, following the smell of breakfast.
Your mother is standing over the stove. Three plates of eggs and bacon already waiting for you on the table. She gives you a stern look before turning back to the stove. "There are three..." You mutter to her confused.
She points to the plates. "One for you, one for your girlfriend, and one for me. Now wake her up and come and eat."
You sheepishly smile turning on your heels to go wake up Vada.
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unformula1 · 2 months
Text
perfect little moment (LN4 x Reader)
perfect little moment (LN4 x Reader) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Yea, duh, this luggage is my baby.” You said, still hugging tightly onto it. “Am I not your baby too?” Lando says, exasperated. “No.” You sass him back. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ pairing: lando norris x reader w/c: 701  a/n: the poll isn’t over but Lando deserves one more to his name. Short little fic. Have fun!!!!!!!! also this is absolutely not proofread. masterlist ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ taglist: no one yet lol. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You open the door to your room and run directly into the bed, jumping up and landing on the bed with a little bounce. You lay there motionless, soaking in all the comfort of the fluffy bed. 
“You gonna stay there and become one with the bed,” Lando scoffs, leaning in the doorframe, “Or you gonna come and help me carry your shit in.”
You lift your head from the bed and turn around to face Lando, “It’s a luggage, you just gotta push it in.”
Lando does so and the luggage comes rolling in, it comes to a slow halt and falls to its side. A loud bang follows.
“HEY!” You shout, hopping off the bed and running to your luggage, giving it a hug.
Lando stares at you in utter disbelief, “You are kidding me.”
You hug your luggage like it’s a baby and shoot Lando a glare.
“You love that luggage more than you love me!” Lando rolls his eyes and closes the door behind him as he walks in.
“Yea, duh, this luggage is my baby.” You say, still hugging tightly onto it.
“Am I not your baby too?” Lando says, exasperated.
“No.” You sass him back.
“Fine.” Lando says, “I’ll cancel the fancy dinner!”
“HEY! NO!” You protest, lunging yourself at him.
He dodges you and starts hastily pressing things on his phone screen.
“HEY! I yield. I yield. You’re my baby.” You say, raising your hands up, surrendering.
Lando flashes you a cheeky smile and keeps his phone.
You roll your eyes and crawl over to him, planting a kiss on his cheek. His entire face flushes red and he hurries to cover it, hiding it away from you.
You let out a mischievous sounding chuckle before going closer and kissing him again.
He hides his face even more which makes you want to kiss his face even more.
“You don’t have to hide it!!” You whine, “I’ve seen it enough times!”
Lando shakes his head, refusing to show you his face, keeping it buried deep into his hands. He slowly turns away from you, his back now facing you as he 
A soft chuckle escapes as you wrap your arms from behind Lando which causes a little squirm from him as his muscles tense up. After a few seconds, Lando processes it and his body relaxes as it falls into yours.
He makes himself comfortable within your arms and melts in there under the warmth of your hands.
Your hands gently stroke through his curls and it makes him chuckle, finally revealing his face and looking up at you. It’s bright pink, like a barbie level of pink. Hot HOT pink.
“You look good.” You comment, throwing him a wink.
“Shut up.” He mumbles before sitting up and pushing his face to be closer to yours.
You’re inches apart. The only logical thing to do right now would be to kiss him.
So you do.
You kiss him on the lips and he kisses you back. It lasts a few seconds, a few bloody good seconds. 
You two part and he’s almost out of breath which makes him catch his breath as much as he can. He stares into your eyes.
His eyes look gorgeous. His eyelashes are beautiful too. You don’t think you’ll ever shut up about how good his eyes look, especially when they’re gazing into yours, especially when he looks lost in his own thoughts.
“I’m saying we cancel the dinner tonight.” You suggest as Lando lays his head in your lap.
Lando lets out a lazy sounding mmkay before snuggling tighter into your lap.
“Stay in tonight, order takeout, watch a movie.” You continue.
Lando gives you a nod back as he takes his phone and hands it to you to order.
“You’re such a baby.” You chuckle.
“Your baby.”
“Mhm…my baby.”
Everything about Lando should be imperfect, he’s rash, impulsive, wild, chaotic, messy, immature, the list could go on forever. Nothing in the world ever made you think this relationship would be perfect, nothing is perfect. Everything on this Earth is imperfect but it's the perfect little moments like these that make you cherish whatever you have with Lando.
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gglitch1dd · 23 days
Note
Okay so I know cheating izuku isn’t canon so how would canon izuku deal with the death of his son?
Oh that's a hard one. But... its a beautifully sad one.
Cheating Dilf Izuku X Wifey Reader
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Warning: Death of a child, coping with grief, depression, hurt to comfort
"It's been a while, Mr Midoriya."
"Yah, it has."
"So how have you been?"
Izuku sat in the couch opposite his agency's therapist. He sat in front of him. a notebook in his lap as he looked back at the green haired man. Izuku had his arms folded over his chest as he sat there, his large frame supported by the grey couch he sat on. He shrugged. "Fine."
"I've heard you've been very busy with work. How has that been for you?"
Izuku shrugged. "Busy. Crime never stops."
His therapist hummed. "How has life been since the trial?"
The trial... It was suffocating endeavour. He hated every second of it. Having to look as Jigsaw, who was alive and well, taken care on taxpayer money and locked behind bars alive, while his son was nothing but a pile of ashes now.
Izuku swallowed down hard but kept his face emotionless. "Fine."
"He got the death penalty. What do you think about it?"
"It's well deserved." Izuku answered without hesitation, his hands gripping his muscles tighter.
The therapist noted something done for a moment before looking back up at him with a gentle demeanour. "Your wife made an interesting statement during the trial. She said, 'Despite what you did to my son, I know he forgives you and he would want me to forgive you. Although I doubt I can ever find it in my heart to do so, I'll try...' What did you think about her statement?"
Izuku was silent as he remembered that day of the trial. You held yourself as gracefully as ever. Even when the forensic pathologist had said the report on how Shoyo and Sero Kimiko's (Hanta and Mina's youngest daughter) bodies were so badly damaged that he couldn't even identify certain body parts of what remained of them, about how there was quite literally nothing to hold or mourn over because they had to be cremated almost immediately. Even when Jigsaw had time to speak and vividly said how your son had cried out your name, begging for you in his last moments of life.
You were composed, other than a few stray tears and an emotionless voice.
"My wife is a better person than me." Izuku stated, remembering his own statement about how the only thing protecting Jigsaw's life was the fact that Izuku had his quirk cancelled for every trial date.
"Speaking of which, how is your Mrs Midoriya?"
For the first time since walking into the room, Izuku seemed to ease just slightly. His eyes fell down. How were you? In total honest, Izuku wasn't sure. When last had he even looked at you? Izuku didn't even take time off to mourn after the trial. He went straight into work.
When last had he seen you? This morning? What did you make for breakfast? What were you wearing?
"I..." He started, his voice unsure. "I think she's fine."
"You think?" His therapist asked softly. "You aren't sure, Mr Midoriya?"
Izuku looked down away from the man that sat across from him. He didn’t answer that question because he wasn’t sure how you were. At some point he wasn’t even sure you left the bed at all after the funeral, but then at some point he knew you were up and around.
“When last did you speak to your wife?”
“This morn-”
“Honestly speak to your wife?” That question had him frozen. “When last did you ask her how her day was, or how has she been coping?”
Izuku knew that his therapist knew that answer. You had been coming to see a therapist as well, a mandatory thing that the commission expected from the both of you but also one you bot probably needed direly. Izuku looked away as his eyebrows furrowed. “Not for a while.” He answered simply.
“Do you not care about her anymore?”
Green eyes flicked up to the psychologist that sat across from him. His eyes were dark and deadly, one that held brewing anger beneath the surface. “You know that’s not true.” Izuku answered back lowly.
“Do I?” His therapist asked with a shrug. The man looked down at the notebook he had, flipping through his pages. “In not one of our sessions have you willingly spoken about your wife or children and when asked, all you state is a simple ‘fine’. It leaves anyone thinking that you find work more important than your family right now.”
“I’m a busy man, I’m the number one hero, I don’t have time to-”
“To have a five-minute conversation with your wife and kids?”
Izuku froze for a second. He let out a scoff as he stood up. “I don’t have to listen to this.” He stated as he moved to exit out of the room.
“Mr Midoriya, when you first started seeing me, you told me that I should be harsh and frank with you.” That made the large hero paused. “You told me that if you were going to be sitting here for an hour at a time, I should make it worth your time. So here I am.” His therapist responded calmly as he crossed his legs leaning back in his chair. “You leave out of that door right now, I will have no choice but to inform the commission that you are unfit and unwell to continue your job as a hero and have you suspended of all hero work until I deem you fit enough to do so.” Izuku turned to look back at the man who sat rather unbothered. He smiled as he motioned for Izuku to sit back where he was before.
Izuku let out a sigh, knowing that he should stay. He walked to sit back down where he was, falling back with a sigh as he said nothing more to that.
His therapist smiled. “Thank you, Mr Midoriya. Often than not, the first step to getting better is knowing that you need help and then accepting it.” He reminded the green haired hero. “Now… how are the boys?”
Izuku didn’t answer immediately. When last did he talk to the boys? When last did he see the boys?  The last vivid time he remembered his sons’ faces was at the funeral, everything after that felt like a blur. Were they already back at school? “They’re… fine.”
His therapist let out a hum as he noted down something in his notebook. “And how are you?”
“Me? I’m fine.”
His therapist looked at him through his lenses before letting out a sigh. He leaned forward. “Mr Midoriya, you entered the scene where your son had been brutally murdered.” He started off, getting to the cusp of it. “You have, unjusticely, been at the cusp of some media frenzy of them saying that you weren’t fast enough or good enough or still in your prime to have saved your son. You have been working like a dog, day and night and by the reports of your office hours, I doubt you even get more than three hours of sleep. You are out there breaking yourself in half, trying to atone for something that isn’t your fault and you are leaving your family behind. Your wife is currently at home with your children, trying to keep it all together while you are out there when you should be spending time with your family. Mr Midoriya, I’ll ask you one more time… how are you?”
The front door opened as Izuku entered his house. The first thing that caught his eye was the candle next to the photo of the smiling five year old boy who had hair too wild and free and a smile so bright and lovely. Inko had said that Shoyo was a direct copy and paste (minus a few of your genetics) of Izuku. Staring at him now was still painful and yet Izuku gave him a small smile.
He slipped off his shoes and entered the house. Just as he did so, he noticed that there wasn’t the sound of playing in the living room or the sound of boys giggling outside. It was mostly silent. It had been silent for a while now and Izuku wasn’t surprised.
Izuku hated the silence.
Walking out of the kitchen with a glass of orange juice was Toshinori, headphones blasting in his ears as he kept one hand in his grey sweats as he manoeuvred out of the kitchen. At the sight of his father, his eyes widened as he jumped, dropping his glass of juice. Before Izuku could react, suddenly dark green tendrils wrapped around the glass.
Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed, knowing he didn’t activate One for All yet. Being carried just a few inches off the ground was Toshinori’s cup of juice with blackwhip coming from his knuckles. Toshinori’s eyes moved to his father. He carefully bent down to pick up his cup before slipping off his headphones, pausing the music. “Afternoon, dad.” He greeted. “You’re back early.” He let out unsure, knowing that normally when- if, his father came home, it would be late at night when he was far too asleep to notice.
Izuku nodded. “I am.” His eyes moved down to blackwhip that slowly retracted itself into Toshinori’s knuckles. He tilted his head confused, pointing towards Toshinori’s left hand. “Since when could you use blackwhip?”
Toshinori looked down at his hand before looking back up at his father. “Since a week ago. Nearly dropped a wine bottle but luckily I caught it just in time.”
“Wine?”
“I cooked dinner.”
“Since when did you cook dinner?”
“Since mom wasn’t able to cook dinner.”
“Since when was mom unable to cook dinner?”
“Depends on the day. Some days are harder for her than others.” He shrugged. Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed at that, a pang of guilt seeping into his chest. Toshinori looked to the side for a moment before forcing a smile to his face as he headed towards the staircase. “I’ve got a paper to finish and I need to make sure Asahi is doing his homework-”
“Toshinori.” Izuku put a hand on his eldest son’s shoulder. Toshinori paused as he turned to look at his dad. Izuku was slow as he walked closer to Toshinori. He took Toshinori’s cup of juice, putting it on the side table. The teenager’s looked confused before his eyes widened as he was pulled into a hug against his will. He froze in his father’s embrace, eyes wide and his body stiff. “I’m sorry.” Izuku whispered. Slowly he felt his son ease into his hold, slumping against him. “You did good, but I’ve gotta tap you out now. You should rest.”
Toshinori didn’t say a word but he nodded his head, a shaky sigh leaving his throat as he buried his head in the crook of his father’s neck. His hands gripped onto Izuku’s back painfully hard but Izuku didn’t push him away.
After that Izuku went up to his and your room where Toshinori said you would be. Izuku entered the room, to find you sitting there with Koda. Koda had his head in your lap, fast asleep. You looked away from the show about a blue dog on the TV, and to your husband. Your eyes widened in surprise. You checked the time on your phone before looking back at him surprised. There were bags under your eyes and you looked drained. You all looked drained, besides Koda who seemed to be enjoying his nap with his little knitted blanket you made for him when he was a baby, over him.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you straightened up. “Izuku… you’re here.” You whispered to him.
“I am.” He affirmed. He looked down at his youngest son. The both of you had consciously pulled him out of kindergarten despite him only being there for a few short months. After Shoyo, the both of you had wordlessly expressed your fear of losing another little sprout. Izuku walked over to you, he picked up Koda effortlessly.
Your eyes widened as you weakly reached up to stop him. “It’s okay, I-”
Izuku shook his head, silently taking your youngest son to his own room. Izuku barely remembered the last time he held Koda like this. The little boy, although asleep like a log, moved to wrap his arms around Izuku’s neck comfortingly putting his head of green hair to rest on him. Izuku swallowed down a sob and fought a frown as he carefully laid Koda to bed, drawing the blinds and leaving him for an afternoon nap.
You were still seated where Izuku had left you when he came back. He closed the door behind him but stood there, keeping space between you and him. Neither of you said anything. This was the most time Izuku had spent in your presence in the past three months that wasn’t him asleep or just passing by.
“How was your day?” You let out quietly, scared of the usual answer he would give you. He would dismiss you without second thought. He didn’t answer, affirming that your question was once again given in vain.
“I…” You looked up at him. His eyes were down casted. “I saw the shrink.”
Your eyebrows twitched up in surprise that he was telling you something about his day that wasn’t just a simple ‘fine’. “And… how did it go?” You asked softly.
He didn’t answer immediately again. You saw your husband’s head drop for a moment. His hands balled into fists and you saw he was trembling. You saw tears fall down his cheeks as he seemed to be biting back a sob. You don’t know with what strength nor from where but you stood up and walked over to him. Right before you could even touch him, your husband crumbled on the floor.
“I’m sorry.” You heard weakly from him.
You went down on your knees joining him on the ground. “Izuku…”
“I failed you.” His voice cracked as he held his hands to his face, trembling in front of you. “I failed the boys, I failed Shoyo. If only I was there just two minutes earlier-”
“It’s not your fault.” You reminded him as you moved your hands onto him, touching him for the first time in months. “You couldn’t have known or have been any faster than you were. You didn’t fail me, or the boys or him.”
Izuku shook his head as he looked up at you with red eyes. “Y/N. I can’t… I…” He fought back a sob as he stopped for a second. “I’m tired. I’m so tired. And- and I’m so sorry I left you all alone.” You stilled at that. You looked away from him fighting your own tears as you tried your best to be the comforting good wife he needed you to be when you felt like anything but. “I’ve been a horrible husband. I haven’t been here for you.”
You scowled as you tried to fight the tears. “You haven’t.” You affirmed softly.
“I know you needed me.”
“I did.” You looked at him, with a mix of anger and disappointment but mostly sadness. You gasped as you let the tears fall. “And you weren’t here.”
He shook his head with a sad smile. “I wasn’t.” You didn’t look at him as you looked down at your lap. “But…” You felt one of his hands move you to look up at him. “I’m here now.”
There was a knock at the door. “Mom I-” Entering the room was Toshinori who paused. Lying there in bed, with his arms around you was Izuku. The both of you were dead asleep, bags under your eyes and faces puffy but you were both asleep. Together.
Toshinori eased. He gave a small smile as he decided he’ll let the both of you sleep.
-Glitch1d
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bitterie-sweetie · 2 months
Text
Fake it til you make it
Pairing: Jeonghan x reader Genre: fluff, fake dating WC: 6.5k Warnings: alcohol A/N: yes it's about vday buuut it's actually for @syuperseventeen's bdayyy!!! surprise surprise! happy birthday nat, i hope this year is even better and filled with many things to look forward to <3
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Your Valentine’s date with Jeonghan is coming up and yet the only thing on your mind is how to break up with him. Of course breaking up with someone is difficult, but you’d argue that what’s more difficult is breaking up with someone you never even dated.
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Jeonghan is a prankster. 
Growing up, you’d often be on the receiving end of his pranks at school. Third grade “initiation” had you drenched in water after he told you to pin a cup against the wall with a straw, and in ninth grade you had tears streaming down your face after eating an entire scoop of wasabi—not the matcha ice cream he said it was. Then there was the time he did something to make your first crush hate you, which, in hindsight, was a good thing because the guy turned out to be a total asshole. 
It wasn’t Jeonghan’s fault entirely when you were too willing to fall for his pranks because being the target of a prank meant having his attention, and that’s something that you wanted. Jeonghan had a way of making everyone feel special, and his attention was a limelight that you never wanted to step out of. 
Honestly, you might’ve kept up with it if he kept going. But then that fateful day came and it was like you were suddenly on his side, working with him instead of being the victim to his antics, and you’d say that that’s what has kept the two of you together after all these years. 
Well, at least until now.
“Hey,” you greet in a rush, looking around the table at everyone and seeing that you’re truly the last one to arrive. Usually, you’d give that place to Lee Chan; he’s the most popular of your friend group and almost always has a prior appointment to your meetups. “Sorry I’m late. My train was delayed and—oh, did you already order for me?” 
Jeonghan slides a sealed bubble tea across the table and sets it in front of your seat—the one empty chair right beside him, no less. When you glance at him questioningly he shrugs and tilts his head towards the crowd at the front. “The line was too long so I ordered yours with mine. Hope you’re feeling like your usual today.” 
Indeed, the sticker on the cup shows that it’s your go-to order. “Aw, that’s so sweet of you. Thanks, babe.” 
Today’s meet up with your friend group is the first of the year and it’s also the first time you’re seeing everyone since Chan’s wedding… including Jeonghan. You would’ve spent Christmas and New Year’s with him had he not cancelled on you, and now that bit of distance has manifested into a larger uncertainty for you over the past while. Even now, the ‘babe’ seemed to come out awkwardly, sticking to your throat.
“Wow, you guys are actually disgusting. I hope you know that.” Seungkwan makes a face at you, and beside him, Soonyoung nods a few times in agreement. 
You plaster on a smile. “It’s okay to just say you’re jealous.” 
The only response you get is an eye-roll from Soonyoung, and then everyone moves on, thankfully. Mingyu asks you what you’ve been up to so you talk about your recent promotion at work and some new habits you’ve started in the new year, and when you sense that the conversation is starting to approach the territory of your future with Jeonghan, you gently steer it towards Chan. After all, he’s the one that got married just a few months ago, and you know he would never miss the chance to talk about his amazing honeymoon and how great this new chapter of his life is going.
There is truly nothing like adult friendships and its quarterly updates. 
Once there’s a bit of a lull in the conversation, Jeonghan turns to you. “What are you doing this week?” 
“Oh, this week?” Your heart speeds up tenfold at the uncertainty of what might come next. “Hmm well, it’s Valentine’s Day.” 
“Yeah, exactly.” He nods and much to your relief, there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. “So I’ll see you for our date then?” 
“Of course, babe.” 
“Can’t you guys do this somewhere else?” Soonyoung says as he stares daggers in your direction. You totally understand and sympathize with that though; today you’re turning up the sweetness more than usual to compensate for the distance you actually feel, unfortunately at the expense of your friends.
Jeonghan completely ignores Soonyoung’s complaint and doesn’t even look his way. “That’s good,” he says, leaning back in his seat and almost looking relieved at your answer. “I was afraid my darling might not have time for me anymore.”
“What? No way. Did you have anything in mind for our date?” 
“Hmm, yes but it’s a surprise. I’ll text you the details later.” 
“Well, uh, I have to run,” Chan says, slowly getting up from his seat. The rest of you hardly bat an eye, having gotten too used to his busy schedule. “It was nice seeing everyone. You guys should come over for my housewarming once everything is set up.” 
Mingyu stands up too. “Oh, I actually have to go too; got a dinner with Wonwoo later.” 
…On second thought, perhaps you overcompensated a bit too much with the cringe. Soonyoung and Seungkwan leave soon after getting a call from their roommate, Seokmin, and then it’s just you and Jeonghan at the table. Still seated side by side, your arm occasionally brushing against his. 
“How have you really been?” he asks in a low voice. 
“Decent, I guess, despite the winter blues and all. It’s pretty much what I said earlier.” You shrug when he remains silent. “Why do you ask? Do I look depressed or something?”   
“No,” he shakes his head with a laugh, “not depressed, exactly, but I wanted to see if you’re as sad as I am about not seeing each other in so long.” Then he leans in a bit closer, as if to whisper a secret. “I missed you, darling.”
It’s times like this when you feel like he’s toeing the line. There’s a small smile lingering on his lips and a softer look in his eyes, not at all like the overdone sweetness to the point of sarcasm from before, but you can never tell if he really means what he says or if this is just part of the act. 
Regardless, it makes your face feel hot and it makes you unable to look directly at him. 
“Oh… yeah,” you say, trying to make a quick recovery. “It’s too bad we missed out on the holidays but at least we get Valentine’s Day.” 
“Yup, that’s exactly why I have something special in mind for that day. I want to make it up to you, darling.” 
You give him a smile and then go to take a sip of your drink, and that’s pretty much the end of the conversation. Despite saying he misses you, it’s interesting how he doesn’t explain why he bailed on the holidays in the first place, and you don’t know whether you should ask about it at this point.
Or if you should even be curious about such a thing. 
Jeonghan pulls you out of your thoughts with a brush of his hand on yours. “It’s getting dark. Let’s head out?” 
You agree and then let him hold your hand, lace his fingers with yours, and then lead you out of the shop. He doesn’t let go until you cross the parking lot and get to his car. It’s strange, you think. You can’t seem to recall the last time the two of you held hands so naturally like this especially when there’s no one else around. 
In fact, when the two of you are alone, the sickening sweetness is always toned down but not completely dropped. Now, Jeonghan’s smiles are softer around the edges like they’re less exaggerated, less of a performance, and when he calls you darling, his voice is quieter and isn’t at all coated in the sticky honey you’re used to. When he hugs you goodbye at your door, it’s a loose hug and almost has a degree of uncertainty. 
Jeonghan steps back but lingers just for a second. “I’ll see you in a few days for our date, darling.”
“Of course,” you put on a smile, “I can’t wait, babe.” 
He waits until you get into your building before giving a little wave and then heading on his way. 
After you close the door behind you and collapse onto your bed, you heave a sigh and finally let the smile slip from your lips. So there would be a Valentine’s date this year after all; the anticipation makes your heart speed up the slightest but at the same time makes you all the more anxious. You thought that he really would end things today, and if not, that you should be the one to do so. But seeing him after so long, feeling the way the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin, basking in the brightness of his smiles, you simply couldn’t utter those words. 
Perhaps Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be the right time to do it either, or maybe your date won’t end up happening for whatever reason. You know that this is something you have to do, but the question is how exactly would you go about doing it? Because there is one major problem. 
You’re not dating Jeonghan at all. 
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One moment in high school is what started this whole thing.
It was eleventh grade drama class—which Jeonghan thought would be fun to take as an elective—that resulted in the two of you being cast in the school play. Although neither of you landed a role that was remotely close to important, Jeonghan decided to have fun with it and improvise during your one minute of screen time and that somehow turned your insignificant cameos into a beautiful romance that had the audience rooting for you. 
And that very moment somehow managed to embed itself so deeply in your relationship with Jeonghan that it became a long running joke to this day. 
Today you’re sitting across from Soonyoung and Seungkwan again, with Mingyu beside you this time. Almost an exact replica of last week’s meetup, but Chan already has plans and Jeonghan is very obviously missing—something Soonyoung points out immediately.
“Wow, no Jeonghan today?” he says loudly even before the hostess is out of earshot. The people at the two tables nearby glance in your direction and you start to regret coming here at all. “We really won this one. Y/N, we should do this more often.” 
You definitely should not. “Um, yeah. Totally.” 
Last week’s meeting with your friends is what gave you the idea to consult with them about your situation. You first suggested the idea to Mingyu, and then used the prospect of free food to get Soonyoung and Seungkwan to come out, and naturally, Chan is busy so it ends up being the four of you at brunch. Which is better on your wallet, you think. You get the feeling that this quarterly meetup can totally happen more often if you were to make this offer every time. 
As for what you’re about to ask… well, truthfully, you still don’t know if you should even do it. You’ve gone so many years without saying a word that it’d simply be odd to ask now, plus you would run the risk of making everything weird. But if you don’t do it, you would only end up making it weird anyway because how much longer can you go on pretending?
Besides, it’s not only you and Jeonghan who are prolonging this inside joke for way longer than it should’ve lasted. All of your friends should be in on it if they treat the two of you like a couple too. 
The waiter comes by to take your orders, and you try not to wince at the entire list that comes out of Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s mouths. Mingyu gets the least, seemingly knowing that something is up if the worried glances he throws your way is anything to go by. 
Once the waiter leaves, that’s when the small talk stops and all eyes turn to you.
“So what did you want to talk about?” Soonyoung asks with a goofy grin. “Since Jeonghan’s not here, does that mean you need help with Valentine’s Day plans or something?” 
Beside him, Seungkwan has the complete opposite expression as he eyes you warily between sips of his americano.
You take a huge swig of water like it’s liquid courage, and then go for it. “This is going to sound weird…” you start, trying not to notice the way Seungkwan tenses up as if bracing for your words, “but I wanted to ask you guys what my relationship with Jeonghan is.” 
Silence. Complete, dead silence. 
Soonyoung freezes like he’s in a photograph while Seungkwan’s hand holding his americano hangs in mid air as a drop of the drink dribbles down the side of his lip. 
“Sorry, what?” It’s Soonyoung who recovers first. “I think I heard that wrong.” 
You shake your head. “Just tell me.” 
“You’re asking us what your relationship with your own boyfriend is?” 
“Boyfriend—exactly!” You have to hold back all the thoughts you have on the topic. “Yeah, that’s what I mean. So you think he’s my boyfriend? That we’re dating?” 
Soonyoung frowns but it’s Seungkwan who answers, exasperated. “Y/N, what are you trying to say here? Are you trying to say you guys broke up? Or do you think we don’t know you well enough and this is a test? Can you say whatever it is directly—” 
“Jeonghan and I aren’t together.”
There, you said it. Your biggest secret is out.
It should make you relieved to finally let out the secret you’ve been harbouring for years or it should at least alleviate some of the weight on your chest, but it doesn’t. The silence in the wake of your confession only closes in on you and makes it all the more suffocating.
“Any—anymore?”
“No. We were never together.”
The bit of silence from earlier repeats itself. Maybe you should become a speaker or presenter with your ability to draw such reactions from a crowd.
Seungkwan noisily sets down his drink and then leans forward with a frown. He’s still in denial, that much is obvious, and he narrows his eyes as he asks, “Is this a joke? A hidden camera? Are you trying to prank us like Jeonghan—”
“No, I’m completely serious. It’s really not what it seems, and this is why I’m asking you guys what you see us as because at this point I don’t even know the answer myself.” 
With a deep breath, you tell them the truth about this entire thing.
You tell them about the high school play and your impromptu acting, and how that led for the two of you to become the famous couple at school afterwards. Sure, it might’ve been a good thing because that meant your acting was believable. But to two people who were interested in just about anything except love at that age, it was annoying and gross. 
After the show when the shippers wouldn’t stop, the two of you decided to do what you do best—pull a prank. You spent that Valentine’s Day together as a joke and acted extra disgusting to mock couples while making fun of how stupid people were to believe whatever you showed them. In twelfth grade, the two of you did the same for Valentine’s Day and then even went to prom together as a joke. 
In recent years, however, the annual joke of a Valentine’s Day date has turned into his Christmas and your Lunar New Year, his cousin’s graduation, your coworker’s housewarming, and Lee Chan’s wedding. It’s made you on a texting basis with his sister and it’s made him familiar with all your favourite food spots and go-to orders. It’s turned him into someone who’s simultaneously as distant as an acquaintance yet closer than a best friend. 
And so, here you are, living an entire lie because you and Jeonghan had the whole world fooled.
“That’s insane,” Soonyoung says when you finally finish the story, unable to look your way and instead, stares into his drink with how mind blown he is.
Seungkwan, on the other hand, remains a bit skeptical. “Okay, but then what was with all that PDA?All the kissing? Is this some sort of situationship?” 
“Oh, um.” Immediately you can feel your cheeks heating up. You didn’t think this far at all but now it seems like the entire truth will have to come out. “All of it was fake. We’ve… never actually kissed.” 
That drama class has taught you more than you needed to know about manipulating angles and the audience’s perception, and Jeonghan is very good at it. Your fake kisses were often just a trick of the angle or occasionally using the thumb trick, and having seen the evidence captured in photos over the years, you know how convincing it can look.
Now, it’s embarrassing to admit for reasons you never would’ve imagined. Admitting to pulling a childish prank like this is one thing, but the realization that you and Jeonghan have faked it for so long without ever once making it real has you feeling almost dejected.
“I always knew Jeonghan was crazy but I didn’t know he’d be *this* crazy.” Soonyoung now has his head in his hands and is staring off into space. “This is the most insane story I’ve ever heard. I’m not sure if I should be happy for you or sad.” 
You give a wry smile. “Yeah, well, I get why you would think we were together though. You met us in college and wouldn’t have known about what happened in the past so I guess there would never be a reason to question it.” 
Beside you, Mingyu clears his throat and you turn to look at him. He’s been so quiet throughout your story that you were too busy focusing on the reactions of the other two, but looking at him now, his reaction is entirely different. Mingyu isn’t as surprised as he is concerned. “Actually, Y/N, a few years ago…” he says hesitantly, “there was a time when I asked him if you were actually dating.” 
“You did? What did he say?”
“He didn’t deny it.”
“Well, we all know how he loves to be ambiguous and leave things a mystery.”
Mingyu shakes his head. “No—see, that’s what I thought too, but it was different that time. At first he didn’t deny it, but when I pushed a bit more, he said that you’re dating. In actual words and with the most serious look I’ve ever seen on his face.” 
This is news to you. You always assumed that they were all in on the joke and would’ve never guessed that anyone actually asked Jeonghan, but the fact that he answered that way is all the more baffling. 
“I don’t get it. Why would he tell you that?” 
“Yeah, so,” Soonyoung says, “from then on we all thought that was fully confirmed, and he never said or implied otherwise.” 
“Right…”
Mingyu nudges you gently. “Y/N, are you telling us about this now because you’re planning on stopping the act? Has it been bothering you? Or did something happen?” 
“Is that why you wanted to tell us today?” Soonyoung lets out a dramatic gasp and leans all the back in his chair, hands over his mouth. “Don’t tell me—are you going to stop the act because you have a crush on someone?”
“What? No, definitely not. It’s not that, it’s—” 
Here’s the next part of your big secret being revealed, something you weren’t entirely ready for but you tell yourself that this needs to happen. 
It’s because of your feelings for Jeonghan. Your very real, very genuine feelings that have nothing to do with this prank.
Truthfully, you can’t pinpoint when you started feeling this way, much like you’re not sure how this joke was able to stick around for so long. It could be the most recent development—when your friend tried to convince you to hop on a dating app, all you could think about was how wrong it felt because you already had Jeonghan. Or maybe it was the Valentine’s Day just before college graduation when he leaned in so closely you thought he was going to kiss you, for real this time, and then only realizing much later that you were disappointed that it wasn’t real. 
Or perhaps it started way back, to the time he asked you to prom—he said he didn’t have a date only for you to later find out he’d already rejected two promposals from other people. All for your fake relationship, supposedly.
And now, for you, what has started as a harmless prank has turned into something much more than that over the years. 
Everyone looks like they're at a loss for words after that part, and even Soonyoung has lost his enthusiasm after hearing it. “Shit, that’s…” he starts. “Okay, yeah, I’m definitely sad for you.” 
Seungkwan and Mingyu have similar sentiments but you wave them off, eager to lighten the mood again after such heavy topics. The food on the table has been long finished and you’re beginning to feel like you’re overstaying your welcome when there’s a crowd waiting at the front of the restaurant. “It’s fine, it’s whatever. I just wanted to get this off my chest today so that I can figure things out before I see him in a few days.” 
A while later, you finish paying and then all head out together. 
The conversation continues to replay itself in your head, and you realize there is one thing you’re curious about. You turn to Mingyu. “By the way—Mingyu, why *did* you ask Jeonghan if we were actually dating?”
Mingyu stops mid-stride and freezes like a deer in headlights, clearly not expecting your question at all. “I—um, I was asking for a friend.” 
“A friend?”
“Yeah, Chan.” He nods a few times in a row. “I thought Chan had a crush on you and I was trying to help him out.”
Strange, seeing as you’ve probably interacted with Chan the least among your friend group. He’s simply too booked and busy to hang out with you, and has been all throughout your college years together. 
Oh, and he’s married.
“Like, before he met his wife?” you ask.
Soonyoung starts to cough furiously from where he is a few steps ahead while Mingyu’s cheeks redden the slightest bit. 
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You vaguely remember the first time the two of you did this, and how it wasn’t anything like how it’s going now. 
Tonight is the night you’re supposed to go on your date with Jeonghan, and you’ve been buzzing with nerves since the night before. You have no idea what to expect for tonight since all he told you about it was to show up at his apartment, and that in itself was slightly concerning as you’ve never been to his home before nor has he been so secretive about any plans. Usually the two of you would be going to a casual place or would have the schedule shared ahead of time if it was a more formal event that needed preparation. 
Jeonghan buzzes you in when you arrive and before you can say you’ll wait for him in the lobby, he tells you to go up to his unit. Again, a bit strange. You do as he asks though, and then even go to knock on the door when there’s no sign of him coming out.
When he opens the door and steps aside, that’s when everything clicks—you’re not here so that he can get his car and take you to your date location. This *is* the date location.
Beyond the doorway, you can see that his apartment is completely decorated. Rose petals line the sides of the hall and lead to the dining table, covered in a deep red tablecloth and perfectly set for your meal. Beside it, a large bouquet of roses rests at the center of the sideboard surrounded by a row of flickering candles which light up the space.
Even without knowing what his home normally looks like, it’s obvious that all this would’ve taken a lot of effort to set up.
“Jeonghan, why did you prepare all this?”
He gives you a dazzling smile. “Because my darling deserves the best, of course. I told you I was going to make it up to you for cancelling Christmas.” 
“Babe, that’s too sweet of you. You really didn’t have to.” You try to return his smile but it doesn’t come easy when this whole situation is overwhelming. Then you let him take your coat and then guide you to the dining table where everything is set up. 
Only when you’re seated do you realize that his response doesn’t answer your question at all. 
The scent of the roses fill the room and looking at them gives you a pang in your heart. This is what the two of you used to make fun of—these big, romantic gestures, and the couples that willingly eat them up. Now it’s as if the tables have turned and you don’t know what to think. 
If this were in public, in front of your friends or other people, you would’ve said that it was another funny gesture that Jeonghan put up for the sake of making them cringe. Because the two of you were the perfect joking, prankster couple, right? 
Now that it’s just you and him here, it confuses you as to why he’s going to such lengths for a joke when it’s something that no one else would see, when there’s no audience to watch his performance. 
You watch as Jeonghan busies himself in the kitchen, serving the food that he’s prepared and pouring the wine into glasses while glancing your way every once in a while. He looks pleased, you note, and he should be if he got his space to look this beautiful. But you can sense that there’s something else too, almost like a nervousness that sits on his shoulder every time he breezes past you and makes eye contact for the briefest second.
After everything is ready, he finally takes a seat across from you and the dinner begins.
Making small talk is easy at first; you comment on your surprise at this type of date, talk about how cold it’s been lately and how it sucks that your company is forcing you to go back into the office. You ask him how his holiday went and how his family has been, and mention how cute his sister’s new puppy is after seeing a post about it on her social media. 
You know you’re just delaying the inevitable. Somehow you get the feeling he knows it too, judging by the way his answers are shorter than usual and how your conversation feels so superficial. So this time after there’s a lull in the conversation, you decide to go for it.
"Jeonghan, um…"
"Hmm?" He looks at you and waits for you to continue, but you don't. Or rather, you can't. "Ah, you're going to comment on how good this is, right?" he says instead, as if supplying you with a way out.
You're all too eager to grab onto it. "Wow, you read my mind." An enthusiastic nod, a slight look of surprise. "It's amazing. Did you make all this yourself?"
Jeonghan shakes his head and then follows up with a sheepish smile. "Partly. The rest is store bought."
Another nod, and then it just ends there again. Seated in this spot with the soft lighting of flickering candles cast against the wall and the heat of Jeonghan's gaze on you, the feeling of discomfort only grows. It's hard to remember what the two of you were like before, during the days when everything seemed so silly–when each move was a clearly defined act between two actors and the world was your stage. And most importantly, when each smile he showed you didn't send your stomach into somersaults or your mind into a loop of second guessing. 
The air is so heavy and stifling that you grab your glass and down a large gulp of the wine. At least when you're drinking, you wouldn’t have to speak, whether that might be responding to him in a way that gives away all of your thoughts, or completely spilling them out yourself. Maybe the alcohol will also drown out some of your anxieties and–
"Hey, slow down." Jeonghan glances at you with worry. "We have all night."
You set the glass down, albeit a bit reluctantly. "Right, sorry. This wine is just so good."
Yet another lie, but what's one more at this point? The wine is much too sour and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You would've much preferred a soda or bubble tea, and drinking something fancy like this during such a fancy occasion makes you feel like you're pretending to be someone you're not.
Which is exactly what you're doing, isn't it? You've been living a lie this entire time.
You briefly wonder if Jeonghan feels the same way—the two of you have never properly spent time alone in complete privacy, and to have your first time be in such a formal atmosphere must feel strange. But if he's uncomfortable, he makes no sign of showing it. Or maybe he's always been the better actor of the two of you.
“You know, since you mentioned seasonal depression, I was thinking that for Christmas this year we should go somewhere. Somewhere warm and sunny to get away from the cold.”
“Oh, this year?” you repeat stupidly when you can’t quite believe what you’re hearing. Jeonghan wants to continue this thing? And here you were, thinking that he was about to end it at any moment for the past few months. “Um, yeah. That would be nice.” 
“Or it could be a fall trip. Your parents have been wanting to go see the leaves change colour, right?” 
There’s no hint of sarcasm on his face and no playful twinkle in his eye, and even though no one can read him very well, you know enough to tell that he’s being serious. You also know that what he’s saying makes no sense at all.
“Right, yeah. They’ve been wanting to do that.” 
“Y/N, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you reply automatically, and then reach for another long gulp of your drink. “Yup, all good.”
Jeonghan frowns, a tiny crease appearing between his brows. “Are you sure? If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” 
It’s strange, the way he looks at you. Jeonghan, who dances around questions and deflects easily with humour and only shows people what he wants them to see, now has worry filling his eyes as he waits for you to continue. As if he *knows*.
You doubt Soonyoung and Seungkwan would have spilled your secret so easily, but there’s a great possibility that the two of them would be unable to act normal around him after what they learned, and unintentionally hint at the truth. Then there’s the other possibility that Jeonghan knew way before any of this. Because maybe he—
No, you don’t want to think about that.
“It’s just that,” you say, having to force yourself to pause and slow down your thoughts before something terrible comes spewing out. A slow inhale, a shaky exhale. “Why are we here, Jeonghan?”
His frown deepens, but now it’s turned into confusion. “What do you mean?”
“What are we doing? This date has been nice, but I’m just very confused over why you put so much effort into this when there’s no one else around to see it. Weren’t we doing all of this as a joke? As a prank? Pretending to be a couple so that we can fool the world since that’s exactly what they wanted to see, but joke’s on them because we’re not?” 
Jeonghan watches you silently with an unreadable look on his face. “Is that how you feel?”
“’Well, yes, because isn’t that the truth? And now, we’ve been doing so much together that it doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. How can it be when your mom is offering to give me homemade side dishes? Or—or when Chan’s wife was there, smiling at us on her wedding day like she wished we’d be just as happy as they are?” You pause to look at him and then proceed to look away. “How long are we going to continue lying to the world? Because I can’t stand the guilt.”
The last part of that may be true, but it’s not the full truth. 
“Yeah, you’re right. We don’t have to keep doing this.”
“W—what?” You stare at him, dumbfounded. 
Jeonghan sighs deeply and then meets your eyes, but then quickly looks away. “Yeah, we should’ve left this in high school. The joke has kind of gotten old, hasn’t it?” 
You have no idea what he means by any of that, but it feels like you’re better off not knowing. The tension in the air is thick, and even when you imagined your fake breakup hundreds of times in your head, this is not something you could have predicted. It’s as you’re on a precipice, and one wrong move will delete all those years, all that time you spent with him. 
And the worst part is that you don’t even want to break up.
“Jeonghan, look. I know all of this is supposed to be a joke, but why is it that it feels like you really do care?” One last deep breath before you make the jump. “And why is it that I *want* you to care?” 
That has him stunned for a second, so much that the expression is obvious on his face in a way that almost never happens. 
“Wait, what? I do care. No, I get that we started all this for fun back then, but that’s not how I feel about it now. Everything we’ve done is real—trust me, I wouldn’t have brought you to my family if that wasn’t the case. And I never thought I was lying to them. It’s exaggerated, yes, and much too dramatic, but I’m not a good enough actor where all that can be based on a complete lie.” 
You braced yourself for the final blow, only to be completely confused over his words. “What are you saying?” 
“Y/N, it’s always been real to me. All of it.” 
“But—but I thought you wanted to stop all this when you cancelled our plans for Christmas. Why did you do that?”
Jeonghan opens his mouth a little but then closes it again. “Do you remember last year at Chan’s wedding when you caught the bouquet?” 
You nod but don’t hide your confusion about where this is going.
“After you caught it, everyone was looking at you… and then at me. It was like they all expected us to be next, because well,” he shrugs, “everyone thought we were together. And that’s when I realized that this is more than simply feeling like it’s real. We were turning it into something real.”
“So you called off Christmas because you wanted to stop doing this? Because you hated how it was becoming real?” 
“No,” Jeonghan shakes his head. “The opposite. I was afraid of how much I liked that it felt real. That day at the wedding, I—I wanted to kiss you for real, Y/N. Not have to fake it.” 
“Oh…”
“If we did meet up for Christmas, I don’t know what might’ve happened. I thought it was safer to stay away for a bit and gather my thoughts.” He hesitates slightly and you can see the pained smile he has on. “But one day into the holidays and I was already regretting my decision.” 
You don’t know what to say to that. Your mind is hardly listening anymore when it keeps on repeating Jeonghan’s words like a broken record, screaming to you that it’s real, that all of it is real. That you’re not the only one who’s been feeling this way, and that you won’t need to stage a fake breakup for your fake relationship. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“I’m just—are you sure all this is real? Jeonghan, are you being serious?”
He breaks into a tender smile. “Don’t you remember? I already answered you back then, Y/N.”
“What do you mean?” 
“You asked me if I’d be your darling, even if thousands of miles may separate us, even if—” 
“—if the paths we walk may crumble,” you finish off. “Or something like that. I actually have no idea what we said back then.”
Those were the lines in the play that you did back in high school, the very lines that the two of you conjured out of thin air one day and the very moment that started this whole thing. 
“Yeah, that,” he says softly.
“Hmm, so, babe,” you put on your usual mockingly sweet tone, repeating the line that you said on stage many years ago, “are you going to kiss me?” 
Jeonghan holds back a smile like he can’t contain his happiness, and follows with his line without missing a beat. “If that’s what my darling wants.”
The smile only widens when he gets up from his seat and you go to meet him halfway, and it’s the last thing you see when he leans in closer and closer. Jeonghan gently slides his thumb between his lips and yours as he closes the distance, like how it was done the very first time, but this time you can feel it as he slowly moves it away. 
Then you’re kissing him, actually kissing him for real for the first time. His lips are soft and warm, and the bit of hesitance between you seems to completely melt away as you wrap your arms around him and he pulls you closer. You let yourself drown in his scent, the warmth of his touch, and the loud pounding of your heart now that you no longer have to be paying attention to the reactions of the people around you. Nothing else matters anymore, all that matters is what you have now.
You spend the rest of the night catching up, whether that’d be stories over the years of shared memories, or creating new memories to make up for the lost time. He tells you he loves you and that the trip suggestions were very much real, and the two of you laugh over how you’ve become the exact couple you once mocked. It’s easy to understand them now though, you think as Jeonghan gives you a sleepy smile as you’re cuddled up on the couch.
“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask something,” you say, and he looks at you in alarm at your abruptness. “Why did you tell Mingyu that we were together?”
Jeonghan stays silent for a bit, narrowing his eyes as if having difficulty recalling what you’re talking about. Then he finally answers. “Oh that?” He chuckles. “That was because I didn’t want him to think he had a chance with you.”
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notmuchtofind · 6 months
Text
public eye | d.s
pt2 here x
word count: 1.6k
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tw: mentions of infertility and low appetite
synopsis: the lead up to the breakup between you 2
it's everywhere.
'Drew Starkey And y/f/n y/l/n SPLIT' ,
'What Happened Between Drew Starkey And y/f/n y/l/n?', 
'Drew and y/n Messy Breakup?!"
you can't escape what you're trying to forget...
You and Drew were together for 3 and a half years, you guys went public with your relationship pretty quickly, constantly making tiktoks and posting instagram stories of each other. It sent fans Wild! which caused you to gain a huge following on the internet, from fans of obx to just random people in general that simply enjoyed seeing your guys' relationship unfold.
you were the IT couple. Red carpets, premiers, award shows. you name it. you did It all with Drew. 
your life changed drastically when you met drew. and because you were doing it together it was all okay. more than okay, it was bliss.
It's been 2 months since you guys broke up, and even though neither of you had addressed it online yet, people started to speculate, people started to talk and people came to an assumption (which was correct) that you and Drew were no longer together. 
| a week before the break up |
*buzz* your phone vibrates...
its drew
Drew: Hey, plans have changed, I'm sorry I can't come see you tonight...reschedule? 
you sigh...
this is the 3rd time in 2 weeks he's cancelled your plans for something that's "just come up". You've never been the type to not trust Drew, he's always been truthful and you guys have been so transparent with each other ever since you got together, but something just feels off this time. you know that you guys have been struggling for the past couple of months with distance and lifestyle changes and it worries you that it's all getting a little too much for you both
Was it the brief mention of you wanting to try for a baby in the next 1-2 years? Maybe it scares him? but you struggle with your fertility and starting to look into starting a family now would prepare you for the next couple of years...
OR
Was it the long distance? He's busy shooting a new movie for Netflix which requires him to go back and forth between LA and Hawaii, its difficult because neither of you like LA enough to want to spend time here constantly, but you've compromised for drew, and with him not even being here half the time, it feels like a waste of time. and this text message just tops it off for you, you haven't seen him in a week, and your mainly here for him, it feels like a stab in the back.
you open your phone and tap on the message icon...
your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a while whilst you think of the right way to phrase how you feel
maybe it would be best to just have a talk in person? you wonder...
y/n: reschedule for when? 
Sent!
a few minutes go bye, which feels like hours
*buzz*
Drew: I'll see you tomorrow afternoon after shooting? Brunch?Downtown LA?
you sigh, you just feel like Drews being stale...no pet names? no I miss you, I love you? you know its small but you can't help but overthink
but you're determined to not let your worry show through the message sent back
y/n: yeh, let me know what time, i'll see you tomorrow. night drew...I love you Read 22:34 pm
no reply
your alarm rings  9:30am 
you groan and fumble to switch it off
picking up your phone you squint your eyes to read the message from Drew which was delivered at 7am, you guessed he had to get up early for filming.
drew: i'll be done around 1pm if you wanna meet me at the cafe?
y/n: yeh, see you there
you respond
'The cafe' , the cafe you and drew always visit when in LA for premiers and awards shows most of the years you've been together. you knew exactly where he was talking about.
12:30pm rolls around and you grab your car keys after slipping your shoes on, ready for your 'date?"( if you can call it that?) with drew. The nerves kick in as you have a sinking feeling that he's got something to say... you switch on your car and drive over to downtown LA.
---------------------------------------
You grab your bag from the passenger seat and step out of the car after parking it down a side road near the place you're meeting. As your walking towards the cafe you see drew stud outside the main entrance on the phone...he looks to be laughing
as soon as he clocks you walking towards him he stutters, his face slightly drops and fumbles to end the call "yeh yeh, okay speak soon" drew mumbles.
drew pulls you into a hug as you step closer, its a tight hug, he kisses you on the head before pushing you back slightly, his hands on your shoulders
"how've you been?'' Drew says. "umm, yeh not bad" you smile slightly, nodding as you lie through your teeth. you've been nothing but a mess for the past couple of weeks.
"who was you chatting too just there" you nod, looking down at the phone in his hand
"oh, urm just, my costar in this movie, the directors wanting to change a part of the script so we was just like...discussing that" he chuckles nervously 
"oh I see" you shrug 
taking a seat inside, you watch and Drew goes up to the counter, ordering you both a coffee, he offers to order you food but you refuse. your appetite has been non existent for the past weeks, food was the last thing on your mind.
Drew sits opposite you after placing the coffees on the table. you play with your hair whilst staring at Drews hands gripping his coffee tight...
"so y/n...listen, I'm sorry I couldn't come see you yesterday, I, I uhhh..." drew stutters "I went for a drink with a few of the people from the set and uh... and I was up early this morning, i'd have had to of travel 45 minutes in an uber to come see you last night yanno...like, shit I dont know... it wasn't practical' he squirms, fumbling over his thoughts
it may have been minor, but you feel your blood boiling, you don't feel any apologetic energy coming from drew, it feels more like guilt, not that he's let you down, more the guilt that he enjoyed himself more than he would've with you last night...you're fuming
'stay calm y/n' you think too yourself
"But you knew we made plans for the evening Drew? you couldn't not drink for one night just to make sure you could see me?"
he leans over the table slightly "look y/n/n im trying to create a bond with these people I-"
you cut him off. 
"Seriously, what the fuck drew?!" you scoff "listen to yourself, it's been shit between us for months now and you think doing shit like this is going to fix anything?" you gesturing with your hands, trying to say slightly under your breath so the whole cafe cant tell your arguing
its silent for a moment whilst you both think of what to say next
"you know I'm struggling ?" you say through cracks in your voice, looking at drew, tearing up 
you don't want him to see you cry, you hate crying in front of drew, never mind in public
he just looks at you, guilty and wide eyed, he tilts back on his chair and sighs whilst pinching the bridge of his nose.
"fuck y/n, I dont know" he looks away...
" I'm feeling a lot of pressure right now, I'm working and I'm away and the last thing I want right now is a child y/n! do you understand?"
you're taken back... you've spent the last 3 years moving away from your hometown, supporting Drew, making a life for yourself wherever he goes but he can never meet you in the middle?! he won't even consider thinking through the thought of one day starting a family with you? you're just asking for a discussion about what the future might hold but he gets defensive every time it's brought up...
"Is that it?" you ask " is that what's turned you so cold?"
he leans over trying to grab your hand "fuck...baby, no I-" 
you flinch as you cut him off
"drew if it's not what you want and it's what I eventually want, are we even right for each other? what are we doing? you don't care for me like you usto, you're not the same, your a dick" you say trying not to shout
"I don't know what I want right now?" Drew states, not looking you in the eyes.
How's he being so calm? Why is he doing this? This is not like drew.
"fuck you" You stand up out of the chair and walk right out of the cafe doors, tears start streaming down your face and you try to hide you face with the palm of your hand...
*snap* followed by a flicker
*snap* *snap*
fuck.
you look around...
"is that paparazzi?" you mumble to yourself 
you walk faster to your car quickly opening the door and throwing your bag on the backseat, you fumble to turn the engine on and see slight flickers through the rearview mirror...this is the last thing you need right now.
part 2!!!!!
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divine-donna · 11 months
Text
a fair trade
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pairing: miguel o’hara x gender neutral! reader
word count: 1,010 words
ao3 link: 🕷️🕷️🕷️
summary: your help is needed to defeat a multiversal entity, one that you’ve defeated before. but what can miguel offer in return for your service?
notes: kind of mishmashing the movies and comics together. do not fret if you haven’t read any of them! it’s mostly just referenced (much like how it was referenced in the last post). the fic on ao3 is also locked to registered ao3 users only. it’s a precaution i’m taking in response to ai using ao3 fics to be trained.
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“(Y/N), we need your help.”
“Miguel, I’m in the middle of eating lunch. Because, you know, I didn’t have breakfast.”
“That’s on you.”
“Some of us don’t like breakfast.”
“Okay that’s not the point! The point is that we need your help!”
You were just sitting at your table, peacefully. After a mission earlier today, you thought you enjoyed a nice break. All you’ve been doing is going on missions across the multiverse, at the expense of your personal life back home. Your friends missed you and were constantly wondering why you would dip all of a sudden. After all, it wasn’t like you to just...cancel last minute. You loved your friends. You always made sure to be there. What you didn’t expect when accepting Miguel’s invitation was to be worked constantly. There was always a multiversal threat at stake, even for something small.
You were literally the local expert on the multiverse. Small things wouldn’t cause catastrophe. But Miguel believed they would. He believed in a domino effect. You believed that it was necessary to stay vigilant but not every small thing required attention. Sometimes the multiverse acted weird. It was a multiverse. It acted on its own accords.
“Miguel, is it actually something to worry about? Or is it something like the Vulture ended up in the wrong reality which can be cleaned up without my help?” You took a sip of your drink.
“It’s someone by the name of Verna. And she’s brought with her an army.”
“Verna? Never heard of her.” You shake your head.
“Really? She claims she’s fought you before.”
“If I saw a picture, then maybe I would recognize her.”
Miguel doesn’t hesitate. “Lyla.”
Part of you wondered what it would be like if your name was always on the tip of his tongue, ready to speak on a moment’s notice. You always wanted someone who could say your name with such ease, who thought of you constantly.
“Already on it.” Lyla pulls up a video. “This is live footage of the whole thing. We’re lucky she hasn’t spread her destruction further.”
As you were taking a sip of your drink, you choked on the liquid. Thankfully, you did not die. “We need you alive (Y/N).” Miguel says.
“I thought I banished her to the ends of the Multiverse!” You exclaimed.
“So you have fought her?” Lyla questions. “Was this the multiversal being you battled before?”
“She’s the reason I have no magic!” You crush the metal cup in your hand. “It took everything for me to banish her! And she just comes...comes back like nothing happened?” You squint a little. “She also looks a lot different than I remember. You said her name was Verna?” Lyla and Miguel look at each other before nodding. “She went by a different name. Called herself the Matriarch of...something. I don’t remember.”
“All the more reason for you to finish up and join us.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“I lost my appetite.” You picked up the dishes and cleaned out the plates, dropping them off with the conveyor belt of dirty dishes. “You owe me Miguel.”
“Owe you what?”
“A break. Like a real break. My body needs to properly recuperate, you know.”
He inputs the numbers and opens the portal. “I can do that. You’ve done good work so far.”
“Exactly. Not getting paid here.”
“None of us get paid.”
“It was a joke. You know, Peter was right. You’re like the only one of us that isn’t funny.”
“That’s hilarious.” His voice did not change in tone and his facial expressions did not give away that he was humored.
“Lighten up a little. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re extra stoic because you want to kiss me.”
“I do not want to kiss you.”
“Everyone wants to kiss me.”
He looks at you, eyebrow slightly raised. “You should pay me in kisses actually. Think that’d be a fair deal. I help you guys stop Verna, again, and I get a kiss. It’d be the perfect reward.”
You feel his gaze on you. “It’s a joke, I promise. You don’t have to actually.” Even if you did want to kiss him.
He takes a step towards you, much to your surprise. His hand reaches up, fingers curled slightly, and his knuckles graze the skin of your cheeks. It’s reassuring in a way and his touch is gentle. It reminds you of when you first joined, how his fingers gently wiped away the crumbs at your face. His hand uncurls and cups your face. “How badly do you want a kiss?” He asks.
His voice made your legs shake. “If I answered that I think you’d make fun of me.”
“I mean...it’s a simple yes or no question.”
“Yes?”
You weren’t expecting his lips to crash against yours. The sheer force almost causes you to fall over and your hands fumble to grip onto his body. You could feel his muscles flex beneath his suit. You kiss him back, but most certainly not with the same amount of force he does. Miguel even goes as far to nip your bottom lip, causing a small gasp to emerge from your throat. It was a little embarrassing and your cheeks grew warm. He pulls away, satisfied and with that cocky smirk on his face.
“Make it back alive and I’ll give you another.” He puts his mask on. “Maybe even more.”
“You...have a lot of confidence that I will.” You were out of breath. Very much out of breath.
“You’ve beaten the odds before. It’s part of who we are.”
Miguel walks through the portal and you clench your hands for a few seconds. You were nervous. It wasn’t just the kiss that made you nervous (though your heart certainly was pumping for that reason primarily). Lyla looked at you with a smile. “You better come back. Or else I’ll lose the primary thing I make fun of him for.”
“I’ll try Lyla. For you.”
“Sure, sure. Now get going before people die.”
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hipstergecko · 6 months
Text
Okay people! DP X DC idea time!
This hit me like a trainwreck and I must release it into the wild. Will I write this properly one day?
Anyway!
Let's think about sensory deprivation tanks. Danny phantom. What if the thermos acted like one? It was only meant for short term storage. What if the Fenton's built a coffin like one meant for long term? 
And they caught Danny first?
—---
The Fenton's newest invention "ghost in a box" had caught him. It was a dumber bigger heavier version of the thermos and somehow they managed to catch him right as he was falling to earth after a nasty hit to the jaw from the latest ghost of the week.
He propped himself up on his elbows and hissed through his teeth. Better to get out of this box quickly. His parents probably couldn't handle this guy. Using the bright glow of his eyes, he examined the inside of his new holding cell. It was fairly big. Big enough for him to roll about and prop himself up on his elbows. There was 10 inches or so of watery ectoplasm sloshing around him as he moved and shifted. Surprisingly comfy too. At least compared to the cramped space of the thermos.
Without the glow of his eyes it was dark. Completely dark. The kind of dark that makes you wonder if you really had that hand on front of your face. And it was quiet. The only sounds were the faint sloshing of the ectoplasm and his own breathing. 
He saw the faint line of the lid and tried with all his might to push it open. His ghostly strength didn't seem to do much. He was panting by the time he decided to try to phase through it instead. He ended up with a sore head for his efforts. Airtight, watertight and ghost proof. 
There was no way out. 
He tried his phone which had luckily enough survived the fight.
No service.
Danny sighed heavily and lay back in the water, staring at his phone with a tired frown. So much for luck. Hopefully, Tucker, Sam, or Jazz would break him out before school tomorrow.
The silence was so strange. He'd never been somewhere this quiet before. Even the ghost zone at its most peaceful had the sounds of flowing ectoplasmic winds. He felt his eyelids fall shut as he slipped into a doze. He was frankly exhausted from everything that had happened that day and needed a nap. So he took one as he waited for someone to open the box.
But Nobody did. Nobody could. Apart from his friends and sister, nobody cared to.
You see, immediately upon his capture, the elder Fentons rushed the box back to the lab for testing. After several hours they had declared the invention a success. As long as no one opened the box, the ghost couldn't escape. 
Meanwhile Tucker, Sam, and Jazz were consumed with worry. They hadn't seen Danny get captured, but after Jack and Maddie proclaimed Phantom was caught the next day on the news, they feared the worst.
Jazz confronted her parents about Phantom in the box, but she was kindly and lovingly dismissed. You see, they had given it some thought and finally agreed with their daughter that ghosts too dangerous to be studied should just be caught and dealt with humanely. A compromise. Sure they couldn't do all the tests they wanted, but they would rather have their town and family safe.
The "Ghost in a box" was equipped with noise canceling movement dampening ecto-sustaining technology. In essence a sensory deprivation tank. The ghost would be kept safe until they were docile enough to be released for study or simply turned back into base ectoplasm to be recycled for something else.
But they didn't know about cores.
And they didn't know about Danny.
Cores would not dissipate like regular formless ectoplasm. They would remain even as the physical form of the ghost melted away as their consciousness faded into everything and nothing within the box.
But Danny wouldn't. Jazz knew that Danny couldn't.
A core wasn't made to house a human. A ghost, who was the personification of a person's emotions the moment they died, a being made of obsession, could be condensed and made dormant inside the fragile safety of a core. But a human flesh and bone body? A heartbeat? He would always be there. Able to be sucked in a thermos, yes. Ghost in a box, yes. His ghostly abilities made him pliable enough. But into his core? Never going to happen.
His heart and core were very different, but worked together in harmony. Neither could exist without the other. Neither could be taken out without issue. (The ghost catcher notwithstanding. Freaky duplication personality splitting weirdness) Should his heart vanish into the core, it would die. Hearts do not take compression and dormancy well. Should his heart be removed, the core would have no filter and overtake the body, burning it into pure ectoplasmic fire.
Danny was the perfect balance. His heart strengthened his core and his core energized his heart. He could not be easily shattered or dissipated. But this meant he also could not retreat into his core when his mind or body failed him. 
He had to remain fully formed. Fully in ghost form. The ectoplasm that was being cycled through the box made sure he was stable, but he would suffocate and starve if he became human.
He was well and truly stuck.
Jazz begged and pleaded with them to let him go. The psychological damage would be so severe if he stayed in longer than a few hours. But their success had blinded them to the point of pride. Instead they praised her for her empathy and willingness to study the obsessions ghosts were known for.
They only really started listening to her after Danny had been missing for an entire week. And even then it was just a call to the police and a search to hunt "they ghost who took our baby boy".
(Did Jazz ever break down and tell her parents the truth? Who knows.)
Perhaps the worst part was that his loved ones couldn't even get to the box. It had been locked up in some government facility almost immediately after the Fenton's announced their success. The patent was sold to the government for a truly amazing amount of money.
Danny was out of reach.
It was only after months of petitioning and rallying and absolutely threatening Vlad with ruining his political reputation, Sam was able to gain access to the box to "see for herself if they were truly as humane as the Fenton's claimed". She had 20 minutes with the box and she and Tucker did everything they could to open it. 
Nothing worked. No hacking or code they tried could open it. They had no power tools or weapons to try attacking it with. For 20 minutes they tried.
For 20 minutes they failed.
There was nothing they could do. They were escorted from the premises kicking and screaming.
Meanwhile the product went viral. Some opposed it, some praised it. The Fentons became famous for the "ghost in a box". Soon they were available widespread. Ghosts were being caught left and right and safely contained. most of whom were peacefully living out their afterlives in their chosen haunt.
Many ghosts were caught actively seeking Phantom. Skulker, Ember, some invisible ghost kid, a great hairy looking wolf man, and more. Ghosts were being caught all over the country. None of them could escape once they were put in the box. And none of the other ghosts knew what was truly happening to their kind. They only knew that if you went into the human realm, you didn't come back. 
Surprisingly enough, Vlad was eventually the one to put a stop to it. By forcibly closing the portals. The Fentons were too busy with their manic search for their son to rebuild their own portal. (And even if they tried after jazz told them the truth, would it have even worked?) His own portal was hardly ever used anymore. Mostly because alongside the "ghost in a box", the Fenton finder and ectoplasmic tracker were also extremely popular tools for ghost catching. It was too risky to activate his personal portal. If he was caught, he was as good as dead. 
But he too was eventually caught.
Somebody had finally looked into his shady dealings. Suspicious of him, and not wanting to rule out anything ghostly, they opened a box on him during a packers game.
He never saw it coming.
Eventually almost every ghost people across the world knew of were caught. The U.S. government paid for the boxes and had them categorized and stored deep underground in a ghost proof facility that slowly faded from history.
But what about Danny?
Let's ask a different question. Do you know what happens when a human stays too long without sensory input?
The hallucinations started when his phone battery gave out.
—————
The justice league had been an entity for quite some time now. Long enough that they felt secure in digging down into the underbelly of various world governments to root out world ending threats at the source. Especially after what had been going on with CADMUS and their government sanctioned cloning operation.
Someone (the flash? Batman? TBD) finds old records of a bunker buried deep under the earth full of something called "ectoplasmic" radiation. For the safety of the nearby town of Amity Park, they felt the need to dig it up and clean it out.
Upon entering the bunker in full OSHA approved hazmat, they find strange looking boxes. Boxes upon boxes stretching for at least a mile, maybe more if there are sublevels. Each box is labeled with a number. The first one they find is marked 3278 (or some other arbitrary number). All the boxes are sealed tight with no known way to open/dispose of them.
Most of the heroes agree just to let the bunker be. It was sealed and doing no visible harm to anyone or the environment.
But Batman (or other super? Dealer's choice) decides to do a bit more looking.
He stalks through the boxes, noting the numbers, the lights saying 'occupied' and 'dissolved'. Many of the boxes are buried deep. He can really only observe the ones close to the walkways.
He walks all the way to the very bottom. The very end of the bunker. Where there is a solitary box set on a raised platform. It is labeled number 1. The lights flash 'occupied'.
'Corporeal'.
He takes it back to the watchtower for analysis.
——————
The justice league cannot safely open the box. Any attempt to break it open could compromise whatever is inside. Scans do not indicate what could be inside.
More research is done into these boxes. Nothing digital is found. Eventually someone looked through some old offices stationed outside the bunker and finds patents for the boxes. Dr.s Fenton describe in detail what the box does and how to use it. It was meant to never be opened by anyone without the proper DNA match.
Apparently Jack Fenton, understanding that ghosts can possess people (read overshadow) coded the box to reject anything that had human DNA in it. He had to manually override the security to open the boxes. Which included several (read 100) security questions and passwords pertaining to Jack directly.
So only someone completely non human and non ectoplasmic could open the box.
Good thing they had aliens on payroll.
—————
Superman pressed his thumb to the scanner. There was a light beep and a sudden rush of pressurized air. A cheery voice rattled out of a small speaker embedded in the box's control panel.
"Wow! I don't know how you found an alien, but well done! Please enjoy your docile ghost or ectoplasmic goo! Thank you for using the Fenton GHOST IN A BOX! Patent pending please don't sue."
Superman, startled by the sudden voice, took a step back. The lid of the box opened slowly the inside dark. Toxic looking green mist sluggishly broiled out of the box. It spread almost like fog across the floor.
A black hand with abnormally long and skeletal fingers stretched slowly rose out of the mist, rising to grip the side of the box.
All the superheroes were immediately on edge. Hands flying to weapons and dropping into fighting stances. Superman himself jumped back to guard against whatever was coming out of the box.
What emerged was frankly horrifying to look at. A black mass of bulbous limbs and... Tentacles? Were those tentacles? Claws and teeth scrabbled at the edges of the box until the entire bulk of the thing fell from the edge, squelching with whatever liquid had been inside. It hit the floor of the watchtower with a wet sounding thud.
There was an immediate reaction among the heroes.
"Oh gross!"
"That... What IS that?!"
"Eugh..."
"It's not human, that's for sure!"
"Someone find a member of JLD!!"
"Get Constantine up here!"
Amidst the noise the thing on the floor writhed about. All over it's amorphous body, eyes opened. Countless eyes appearing all over it's form. They were the same toxic green color as the mist, but brighter.
The eyes rolled about and winced. The thing shuddered as if in pain and the eyes squeezed shut back into the void. Instead, teeth appeared, countless mouths inside mouths and razor sharp teeth upon teeth. It scrabbled on the floor and opened it's countless mouths.
And screamed.
Heroes threw their hands over their ears in an attempt to stop the sound. Those with enhanced hearing took it the worst. Superman himself was forced to kneel, hands pressing to the sides of his head desperately. It sounded like the screams of the damned. Of someone dying. Of thousands suffering. He couldn't move, couldn't react. It was going to drive him mad if it didn't stop.
It came almost in waves, battering against the triple reinforced windows protecting the inhabitants from space. Lights above their heads popped and broke as sound crashed about the room. Coffee mugs shattered, fuses blew, and the watchtower was plunged into darkness.
With the darkness came a panic. The screaming was unending, debilitating. Some curled into fetal positions, uncaring of their peers. Others tried to run, but with the power gone, doors wouldn't open.
Not many paid attention to the thing on the floor.
It is important to note that in attendance that day alongside batman were a few of his brood. Namely Red Robin and Black Bat. It is also important to note that Black Bat is a hero who is hearing impaired.
So of the heroes in the watchtower that day, Black Bat was the only one to focus on the amorphous thing despite the noise.
She watched the Eldritch horror even as the watchtower fell to darkness. It had too many mouths. Too many eyes. It's form was barely recognizable in the darkness, but as she watched she could see the makings of something humanoid.
It had a discernable head.
She watched it try to open its eyes various times only to see it shriek louder and shut them swiftly. It was in pain? Even though the lights had gone out? She looked at batman and the other heroes. They were screaming and yelling and trying to figure out a course of action.
She looked back at the thing. The sound beat at her ears in waves. Growing ever louder as those around her screamed in pain.
In that moment, Cass had an epiphany.
She lunged across the room, reaching Red Robin almost instantly. She allowed the sound to reach her ears as her hands left them to dig around in Tim's utility belt. She knew he had them, she'd seen him wear them often enough.
Ahah! She triumphantly pulled the headphones from a side pouch. Dick and Jason teased Tim about the headphones when he first got them for working on casefiles. They were the big chunky kind. Designed to fit over the entire ear.
Designed to be noise cancelling
She turned and sprinted towards the thing on the floor with her prize. The closer she got the worse the sound was. It beat on her brain painfully, she could feel a nosebleed trickle down her lip. Still she darted forward. She leapt ito the air, flipping upsidedown as she did. She aimed to the beings... Head? What could've been it's head... And deftly slipped the headphones onto it.
There was a flailing of... Limbs?... In her direction as she sailed through the air. She landed a bit ungracefully as the sound crashed over her again. She covered her ears with her hands and retreated, turning to face the entity as she backed away.
There were hands... Or hand like things... Clutching the headphones. Slowly the screaming dwindled. Soon it was quiet save for the cursing and crying and relief voiced by the heroes.
"Oh thank god!"
"It's over!"
"Ugh my head..."
"Is everyone okay?"
"I understand why they had that thing locked away now."
"Black Bat." Cass turned to see Batman holding his head in one hand. "What did you do?"
Cass mimed putting the headphones on. "Overstimulation." She said simply.
"What do you mean?" Batman looked to the entity. His eyes narrowed at the way it clung to the headphones. His gaze swiveled to the inky darkness of the box. An idea swirled in his brain and he nodded. "Extreme sensory deprivation."
Cass nodded, pleased.
"Batman! What happened? Are you alright?" Superman approached the pair. His voice was raised slightly. Blood dripped from his ears.
"I'm fine Superman." Batman faced him fully, moving his mouth in exaggerated syllables. "But you're not."
Superman smiled sheepishly. "I see you noticed. I can't hear anything right now." He turned towards the entity. "What do we do now? It's clearly too dangerous to simply let free." He turned back to Batman. "With the watchtower out of power the best option we have is to put it back into the box."
"Hnn..." Batman frowned. "I don't think that would work well. Based on how it reacted to light and sound, we can assume that the box was some sort of sensory deprivation tank."
"Sensory deprivation tank?"
"It's a box that cuts off all stimuli from the outside." Red Robin pulled himself off the floor with a groan. "It's a form of extreme isolation. Do you think that's why it was screaming?"
"What?"
Batman ignored Superman. "I believe so. Black Bat was the first to notice."
Red Robin squinted. "Are those my headphones?"
Cass grinned at him. "Useful."
He huffed and passed her a handkerchief from his belt. "You owe me new ones." She giggled silently and took the handkerchief, wiping away the nosebleed.
Batman grunted, gaze shifting back to the writhing mass of black in the darkness. "We'll have to quarantine this room. I don't believe trying to handle the entity would be wise."
"No kidding." Superman winced, putting a hand to his head. "But we won't be able to do much until Cyborg restores power. He was in the control room when the screaming started, right?"
Not a moment after Superman had finished speaking the backup lights came on.
And the shrieking started anew.
Heroes were once again forced to their knees as the sound hit them. Cass wasted no time and ran towards the entity. It was no longer a roiling bulbous mass, but rather had a partial humanoid form. A clear and present head and shoulders, thin long arms with hands clasped around the headphones.
She didn't know where it's eyes were supposed to be, but she didn't bother taking the time to figure it out. She ripped her cape from her shoulders and flung it over top of the entity. There was an immediate flailing of limbs and tentacles as it tried to get the offending object off.
Cass worked quickly. Pulling a blindfold from her belt, she wrapped it swiftly around the "head" of the thing in front of her. The knot was tied equally as fast, but before she could pull away, her hands were caught.
Long, impossibly long fingers held her hands in a vice grip. They were icy. So cold that it felt like her skin was burning.
But the screaming stopped.
"Black Bat!"
Cass ignored Red Robin's cry and Batman's frantic run towards her.
The entity had stilled.
It's limbs shrunk instantly, leaving almost normally proportioned arms and legs. The tentacles shrank away to nothing. The claws and fangs receding with them. The grip on her hands turned gentle, the fingers shrinking to a normal, proportional size.
Cass's eyes darted to Batman, stopping him just before he reached her. She shook her head minutely. This thing was not hostile.
It was scared.
Cass turned her gaze back to the thing and watched, tense as the fingers slowly ran up and down her hand. It felt her wrist, palm and fingers.
Slowly, the blackness faded into color. Blinding white hair fluttered with an unseen breeze. Skin tan underneath the headphones and blindfold. A tattered jumpsuit in black and white stained green.
A nose peeked out from under the blindfold. A pair of lips, thin and chapped. Freckles dotted what she could see of the cheeks.
It looked young. A young humanoid. It probably wasn't human at all but, the similarities were there. It looked like a boy. Younger than Tim, but older than Damien.
He looked thin. She traced the line of his ribs with her eyes. She would see where his hip bones jutted out. He was emaciated. Or very nearly. He looked as of he'd been starving.
She head Batman shift as he knelt beside her. She knew he'd seen it too. This boy had been tortured in extreme isolation. What had happened to him?
He didn't speak. She didn't really expect him to. He searched her hands for a moment more, before his hands stilled. Then, slowly, carefully, his fingers intertwined with hers. He gave a gentle squeeze.
She squeezed back.
The blindfold covering his eyes grew wet. The wetness seeped down the blindfold and dripped to the floor.
The boy was crying.
"You're real." Came a raspy whisper.
There was a flash of bright white light and suddenly a very starved human boy was collapsing into Cass's arms.
—————
(Cass looked up at Bruce with wide eyes, cradling the boy to herself. He now had pale skin, tattered blue jeans and a worn T-shirt. His tousled black hair was grimy with filth. Dark circles shadowed long dark eyelashes and hollowed cheeks.
Cass was suddenly sure. Whatever he was, he was hers now.
"New baby brother."
Batman sighed heavily.)
————-—
Aaaaaand I have more? Maybe? Like the idea that he has gone crazy and lost his senses for a time really appealed to me. Cue rehabilitation and him trying to free the other ghosts/Vlad and get them back to the ghost zone. Maybe try to go back in time to stop it all from happening? Idk.
I felt the need to post this before I dedicated too much time to it and wrote a multi chapter fic but never actually post it anywhere. 🫠
Tell me what you thiiiiink.
739 notes · View notes
landitolover · 5 months
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𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒎 in which pierre is dating everyone’s favorite singer! ౨ৎ pierre x female!singer!reader
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Liked by ynswife, pierregasly, xoxoyn, and 43,789 others
ynupdates Y/n, her first night and her first time playing in paris!! She preformed amazing and gave us a sneak peak of her new song, “dance with me” 🥹 who could this song be about ? 🧐🧐
view all 678 comments..
user why did paris do to deserve this..😐😐 Like wdym they got a sneak peak of her new song????? 😭😭
→ user RIGHT like stop it oui oui bitches.
user she made dance with me for me wdym
user i’d kill to see her live 😭
user what’s happening to me?? 🧍‍♀️-🧎‍♀️-🎸
user PARIS GO SUCK A DICK
user i lost a song i didnt even know i could Lose.
→ user LITERALLY.
user PIERRE SIR WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE
user her outfit is so cute 😭❤️
→ user rightt, shes always eating
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Liked by yourbestie, charles_leclerc, and 998,788 others
yourusername thank u france 🥖🥖🇫🇷🇫🇷 love u ❤️❤️🙈🙈
view all 3,479 comments..
yourbestie who is this french man mrs ……. ?!?!?!!!!
→ yourusername Idk i was just kissing a random baguette man i found on the street :///
→ yourbestie ur gonna get a disease from kissing a random french man………
→ yourusername ouch. -french man
user we lost her to a french man ☹️
→ yourusername dw he will never compete with u guys
user IS THIS THE MAN SHES WRITING A SONG FOR?????
→ yourusername thank u to my maaan 🫡
user i can tell pierres hair, and thats his hair in the 3rd pic.
→ user yeah cause that bitch is balding
→ user LMFAO THATS FOUL 😭😭
user the last picture is literally PIERRE.. ARE THEY TRYING TO BE OBVIOUS
→ user right they’re not even hiding it
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Liked by yourbestie, yukitsunoda0511, and 345,971 others
pierregasly Over the break 💕
View all 484 comments
yukitsunoda0511 I really like your photographer 😂
→ pierregasly Thanks yuki, I love her too 😂
charles_leclerc Seems like you’ve been having some fun over the break 🫣
→ pierregasly 🤔🤔
user AAAHSOXOSAOS YN YN YN
→ user who is yn and why do people think she’s with pierre??
→ user she’s an artist! you should search her up/ listen to her!!
user pierres soft launch era!! get rid of it. I NEED TO KNOW WHO SHE IS
user i love how yuki is still in these photo dumps ❤️
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Liked by pierregasly, yourbestie, and 134,889 others
yourusername hellloooo everybody!!!!!!!! new single out in a few days (yay) it’s called “dance with you” 💌
View all 589 comments
user WE’RE FINALLY GETTING FEED
user EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO HER MAN, HE GAVE OUR GIRL INSPO
→ user thank you kind sir we don’t know of
→ user thank you for making our mother write love songs x
→ user THANK 😭 U 😭 YN’S 😭 MAN 😭😭😭😭😭😭
user my prayers have been answered 😭🙏🏼
user CANT WAIT OH MU GOD
user I’m so ready to stream this song everyday and cry.
→ yourusername don’t cry babes 😞❤️ ILY
user LETS GO LESTS GOO WE WON
user cancelling all my plans just in case she calls !!
→ yourusername BACK WHEN I WAS LIVIN FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL
user GIRL I CANT WAIT U NEED TO RELEASE IT RIGHT THIS SECOND
user this is so AUAAGDUWOQDFC
pierregasly added to their story
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seen by ynupdates charles_leclerc 252,676 others
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YN 💕
PIERRE OH MY GOD
WHY WOULD U …
BAEB 🙊🤍
I MEANT TO PUT IT ON MY CLOSE FRIENDS I SWEAR
i mean ITS NOT LIKE PEOPLE DIDNT ALREADY KNOW..??
YN 💕
well YEAH.. but I wanted to tell my fans myself 😒
BAEB 🙊🤍
i’m sorry 😞
at least your single comes out in a few days .. ??
YN 💕
😒😒
ok wait
i forgive u 🤍🤍🥖🥖
BAEB 🙊🤍
❤️❤️❤️
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Liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly, and 88,992 others
yourusername a very wise man once told me it wouldn’t b a photo dump if yuki weren’t in it … so i kidnapped him so he could be in my photo dump, thanks yuki ❤️🙊🐈‍⬛🥖
tagged yukitsunoda0511 pierregasly
View all 989 comments
user YUKI WHAT ARE U DOIN HERE
→ user more like what is PIERRE doing here …
user i hope yk how to fight pierre fucking gasly
user plot twist what if shes dating yuki
→ user its time to take ur meds babe! all these soft launch pictures we’ve gotten have BROWN HAIR !! does yuki have brown hair ? no!!
→ user jesus girl i was joking .. maybe YOU should take ur meds, insane ass…
user the last photo 😭😭
→ user shes so real fo that though cause what is up with these sassy men
→ yourusername sassy men apocalypse 🧟
user this is by far my favorite post ever cause YUKI LOOKS SO ADORABLE 😞❤️
user i am so SICK. HUST POST YOU AND PIERRE KISSING OR SOMETHING 😭😭😭 PLEASE I CANNOT KEEP WAITING FOR YOU GUYS TO CONFIRM IT YOURSELF. PLEASE YOU GUYS ARE SO SICK AND FUCKIGN TWISTED 😭😭😭😭
→ user preach 🗣️🗣️🗣️💯💯💯
user poor yuki he had to third wheel
→ user wdym yn was third wheeling
yukitsunoda0511 I have a family please let me go
→ yourusername never 😹🙊
pierregasly my little photographer
→ yourusername i should start charging u..
→ pierregasly no … you can’t, I’m broke
→ yourusername you make more money than I do ????
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Liked by pierregasly, yourbestie, and 99,192 others
yourusername heeyyoo! “dance with me” out noow…!!! and by the way, I DO really like you pierregasly 🤍🤍🥖🥖⭐️⭐️
View 1,230 comments
user SHUT UP OH MY GOD
user no…. NO….. I LOST MY WIFE……
user yn does this mean we’ll get more love songs 🎀
→ yourusername oui ☺️☺️🫰🏼🫰🏼⭐️⭐️
user i just fell to my knees in a walmart parking lot
user what if i just 🪦
user you’re so silly bae 😂😂 you and ur a.i boyfriend 😂😂
→ yourusername sorry x
→ user excuse me where can i get a french a.i boyfriend like u
→ yourusername uhm ask yukitsunoda0511 he got it for me!!!!
user DANCE WITH ME STAYS ON REPEAT
user im throwing up
charles_leclerc Does this mean I can’t take him on dates anymore ?
→ yourusername can i take your girlfriend out? cause then the answer is yes charlie 🦎🦎
→ charles_leclerc 🧐🧐 Maybe….
pierregasly dance with me is the best song in existence ❤️❤️
→ yourusername thank u babe 🤍🤍😊😊🫰🏼🫰🏼
pierregasly I’m glad that I can finally post you
→ yourusername I love you 🥹🤍🤍
user AUATAAHH FINALLY
→ user I WON I WON I WON
→ user MY PARENTS
→ user SCREAMING AND SOBBING SO HARD RIGHT NOW
user they’re so ☺️☺️
user I ALWAYS KNEW U WERE MEANT FOR THAT WAG LIFE QUEEN
→ user wait PLS tell me you’ll be at the races 😭🙏🏼
→ yourusername of course! definitely not all of them but i’ll try my hardest to come 💕😊
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Liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511, and 87,778 others
pierregasly Je t'aime my red panda 🤍
tagged yourusername
View all 767 comments
user HE CAN’T KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS 😭😭
user seeing this makes me feel . DISGUSTED
user if you look closely you can see me violently sobbing in the corner.
user you guys are so cute!!!!!!!!! 😂 (i literally just kms)
user always these damn white men
user my parents 4eva
user yourusername when does the love album for pierre come out babes x
→ yourusername feb 7th 🦎
user the 😭 caption 😭. my 😭 red 😭 panda 😭
user pierre how do u feel after pulling the baddest girl ever
pierregasly amazing cause i ❤️ my gf
user yn bae how long has this been going on !!
→ yourusername 50 years
landonorris LET ME GO TO YOUR CONCERTS YN
→ yourusername of course landobum x
charles_leclerc so cute (yuck)
yukitsnoda0511 you’re welcome for setting you up with her 🙄
→ yourusername THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR THE MOST WONDERFUL BF EVER YUKI ⭐️⭐️🫰🏼🫰🏼
→ pierregasly THANK YOU YUKI!! I’LL BUY YOU ALL THE FOOD YOU WANT🫡❤️
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౨ৎ helloooo ! i hope u like this 😁😁 idk what to say tbh cause this is just a re upload …. I WILL TRY TO POST FOR DULCE HOTLINE SOON 🤓 i’ve been kinda busy tho, sorry ☹️😞
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423 notes · View notes
bubbbii · 5 months
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Make-Up
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title : Make-up
pairing : Jungkook x reader
genre : make-up sex, kpop smut, Jungkook smut, dirty content
warning : doggystyle, whining/whimpers, degrading, name-calling, multiple orgasms, choking, edging, spanking, fingering, very dirty content
summary : The couple haven’t talked to each other in over a week ever since the club incident that came upon them. But there friends finally bring them together as it began to go upon week 2, and Jungkook decides to take the initiative..and prove to her she’s the only one. But is it that easy for y/n?
[REQUESTED]
[I have a lot of requests to get to🤭]
!PURELY FICTION! !NOT REAL!
do not steal story or idea without permission please thank uu :)
Let’s go <3
_____________________________________________
I came down the stairs of my private condo and towards the large modern kitchen, putting my dishes away when my phone rang. I sighed, flipping my phone on the other side to see the contact. Jin. I rolled my eyes, picking it up as i washed the 3 dishes I had. “Ma’am you need to come back here right now” “No. Why should I!?” “Because y/n! HES YOUR BOYFRIEND! You guys need to fix this!” I dropped the dishes in my hands, wiping my hands before leaning against the marble counter and put the phone in my hand.
I’m about to get ugly real quick.
“You listen here Seokjin ok!? This is HIS problem- I DIDNT GO TO THE GODAMN CLUB AND HAD A BITCH ALL OVER ME TRYNA GET IN MY PANTS OK!? Don’t tell me where to go and what the fuck to do when this is clearly HIS fault ok!? You’re fucking sick - ALL OF YALL ARE SICK OK!? This is not me to fix, I don’t have to go NOWHERE if he wants to act this way trust I CAN TOO!” I snapped, hanging up the phone afterwards and took a deep breath before slowly going back to the dishes.
I don’t wanna deal with this shit, I really don’t have the time. Not this evening I don’t. But I soon get another phone call making my eyes roll at the back of my head i’m irritation as I, this time, picked the phone up with anger and saw the contact. Hoseok. I took a deep breath, picking the phone up. “Yes?” “Open the door” I sighed, hanging up and wiping my hands before going towards the door to open it.
Hoseok came inside, closing the door as I made my way back towards the kitchen with him closely behind. “Y/n…you know what I’m gonna say right?” “And i’m not here for it” “Y/n cmon-“ “Hoseok i told you im not here for it! I’m not ok!? I told Jin that this is HIS situation to fix - not mine! Ya’ll act like IM the one who went there!” “No one is acting like nothing. We just want you guys to talk it’s going on week 2!” “I CAN GO FOR LONGER!” “Y/n don’t be like that” I huffed, finishing up the dishes before wiping the counter.
Hoseok leaned against the counter as I turned around, and looked at me with his eyes. I stared into them, knowing what I have to do. “Its 8! And I have plans!” “Well they’re now canceled, let’s go” “We’ll im not dressed-“ “Y/n” i groaned really loudly, throwing on a hoodie and sweats and put on my slides before turning off the lights and followed Hoseok out the door. “You’re sick for this” “I love you too” Hoseok opened the door for me and I got in, him going in the drivers seat and we drove off to Jungkook’s house.
———————————————————————————
We arrived, Going inside and saw everyone in the living room, looking directly at me. “So this is the shit you dragged me over here for!?” I yelled at Hoseok, making him sigh, rubbing my shoulder. “Wow you really got her over here?” “It’s called having patience” Hoseok responded to Jin, before offering me a chair in the spacious living room. But I denied, still over the edge. “Y/n cmon” I huffed, sitting down with him behind me.
“Ok so!? MEETING! YAY! I was totally looking forward to this especially since a girl had some awesome plans tonight but I was RUDELY interrupted by this shit” I snapped, fake smiling at my ‘so called’ friends. “What plans?” I looked at Jungkook who appeared out the kitchen, shirtless. “None of your business” he huffed, sitting down on the couch. “You guys need to talk. It’s going on week 2 and it should not be like this” “Oh ask the bitch who went to the fucking club!” “Y/n what did i tell you about using that language?” “JUNGKOOK SHUT THE HELL UP!” I yelled at him, rolling my eyes as I ran my hands through my hair.
“Ya’ll don’t realize that I am PISSED right now and i’m tired of you always thinking that I have to fix things WHEN I DONT HAVE TO FIX SHIT! This is his business and this is his problem to fix - you will not force me to do anything!” I yelled at them, getting up but Hoseok sat me back down, calming me down. “Y/n it’s not like that-“ “Oh shut up Yoongi because you were there AND DIDNT EVEN STOP HIM!” I yelled at Yoongi, tears almost breaking from my eyes.
“Hoseok drive me back now” “Y/n-“ “NOW!” I yelled, a tear escaping from my eye as I stood and looked towards Hoseok. He sighed, pulling me close into his tight embrace as I poured my tears into his chest. “You guys should know better” Hoseok said softly to the others, walking me out the house and to the car. “It’s ok, it’s alright I’ll call Irene” He put me in the car and he got in the drivers and the car had called Irene.
“Hello? Hobi?” “Pick up y/n please” “I gotchu” She responded, hanging up before we drove back to my house. He held my hand the whole way as uncontrollable tears fell out of my eyes. I felt his grip tighten around my hand every time I would let out a sob or a sniff. At this point I don’t know what’s gonna happen…i’m scared, actually.
Jungkook’s POV | His house
We all sat there, frustrated and sad as i ran my hands through my hair. “We fucked up” “YOU THINK!?” I yelled out at Taehyung’s response, standing up as I tugged my long black hair. “We can fix this - he probably called Irene and-“ someone phone rang, and it was mine. I picked it up and saw Hoseok’s contact. “Hello?” “I called Irene to pick up Y/n for a minute, this is your chance to make shit work if you wanna fix things between the two” his voice echoed to all of us, making eveyrone look at me.
“What-“ “I secretly grabbed your spare key to her house and I put in on the table next to you,” I looked at the table and saw the key making me smile secretly. “You have like - an hour or two to do whatever. I’m giving you a chance and this would probably be your last before hell breaks apart. Make it happen Jungkook” He hung up and all eyes were on me. “Go. Now” Jennie said, and I grabbed my things and the key before going out the the garage and drove off to her house.
As I drove I thought about her the whole way. I looked at my car and saw Y/n on the big screen pad that was planted in the middle. I smiled, picking up my speed to make it towards her house. I hope what I have in mind, turns out to be the best for us.
Your POV | 10 pm
“Oh wow, I had a great time” “Of course! That’s what I do! Here are your shopping bags, make sure to tag me” we laughed as she walked me towards my door. “Wait…the lights are on?” She smiled, stroking my hair and hugged me once more before walking back to her car and drove off. I furrowed my eyebrow, opening my door and closing it before stomping towards where the light was coming from.
The kitchen?
I furrowed my eyebrows again and went towards it and saw food. Lots of food. I blinked, seeing a tall man figure washing his dishes. He turned around, setting a plate of food on the table and looked at me. I held back my tears, staring into his apologetic eyes. “What..Jungkook-“ “I um..cooked your favorite foods” He said, keeping his eyes on me. A tear escaped my eye as I set my shopping bags down.
“How?” “Hoseok gave me a key and..told me to make it happen” I sobbed, going towards him and he hugged me tightly as I jumped in his arms, holding me tight as he dug his face in my neck. “I’m sorry, i’m sorry please” “Shh it’s ok, it’s ok” I soothed the back of his neck as i heard his sniffles. “Don’t leave, please don’t leave I need you. You’re everything to me” “I’m not going nowhere” he held me tighter, not letting go as I kept him place.
We hugged for a moment, embracing each other’s presence as I kissed his head gently. “I missed you” he whispered, connecting our foreheads together as our hands intertwined tightly. “Yea..me too” “I’m sorry. I - it won’t happen again I promise” I hummed, my eyes falling towards the food on the table. “You cooked that?” “Of course I cooked it” we laughed as we looked at each other. “I missed you…everything. I’ve been away from you for 2 weeks - how am I still here?” I smiled, feeling his lips land on mine making me respond to the action.
We kissed until we got rough with each other, his hands feeling all over me and picked me up. He made it to the long couch, putting me on it as he hovered over me. I felt the aching cock, grinding and aching for friction on my desperate hood. “Fuck, I can’t wait” He unzipped the dress, taking it off and ripped the lacy panties I had on. “Ok ok Jungkook listen-“ he didn’t listen. Instead, he sucked me out hungrily, lapping his tongue in between my folds and clit, moaning desperately and sucking with hunger in his eyes.
“Mmh fuck, kook” “Fuck i missed her, I missed her so much i missed this pussy, this fucking pussy” I whined at he sucked with need, and hunger. His tongue flicked on top of my clit, messing with the bud making my hands grip the the couch below me at the unbearable pleasure I was receiving. “I feel like - fuck, i’m getting close” “Come for my baby girl” my eyes shut tight as my high catches up to me. And I came all over his mouth, feeling him moan and sucking all of my juices.
“Fuck, my good girl” He sucked out everything before standing up and taking off his sweats and boxers. “Come here” he sat down and I went to him, stroking it before taking the big thing in my mouth. He hissed, groaning quietly as I sucked his member slowly, but hard enough to get him squirming a little. “Fuckkk that mouth is amazing - that fucking mouth is amazing you sucking me like that? Hm like a fucking bitch?” He thrusted his hips upward, making me moan around him. “Ooh yeaaa she likes that, she likes that nasty shit doesn’t she” he put my head all the way down and thrusted his hips upward, fucking his cock up in my mouth.
“Fuck fuck fuck - shit suck that cock. Suck that shit wanna be a bitch and make me cum huh? Fucking bitch you are looking at you” his hand placement on my jaw was pretty strong, but it was so hot..I was close already.
Yes this whole time i was touching myself.
“Shit - oooh someone’s touching themselves? She’s such a slut she couldn’t take her hand off her pussy huh? She’s so horny, you’re getting turned on by this i know you are” I whined and moaned around his cock as his words made my pussy throb even more. I wasn’t gonna last. “Mmh daddy” I muffled out, whining as my fingers went in and out of my pussy faster. “You wanna cum baby? You wanna make daddy cum and cum on your fingers? Dirty bitch” I moaned again, feeling his hips quicken the pace and so did my fingers.
“Yea yea yea yea yea - i’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum fuck” He soon came down my throat which sent me moaning like crazy, and I soon came all over my fingers. I shuddered at the orgasm, my eyes fluttering shut as I continued to suck hm off and all the cum that came with it. “Ooh there you go” I couldn’t stop moaning, this man really has me in a chokehold. I took the cock out, breaking heavily as i stared at the still hard cock standing tall.
“You’re…jungkook” “You already know” I huffed, slowly standing and straddled him as i felt his XL hands roam up and down my submissive body as he bucked his hips up for the tip to touch the entrance of my pussy. I hummed, sinking down on the hard rock cock of his as he hissed at the warm feeling. “Ooouu shit that pussy wet. It’s wet isn’t it” I sunk down all the way, moaning as i rolled my hips around. “Fuck..you got bigger didn’t you” “someone’s noticed. Now ride that new dick like you mean it” i bounced up and down, my moans immediately filling the room we were in as my pace quickened by the minute.
“Fuck! This feels too good - i can’t” “yes you can you gon ride that dick till i say it’s time for you to stop” he slapped my ass making me shriek at the action. My pleasures rose, the heart beating with a quickness, and my pussy…wetter then over. “Daddy..i can’t, i’m gonna cum soon” “That’s what i love to hear” he bucked up into me, fucking up with an unhuman speed making my mouth open and my eyes roll at the back of my head as he fucked me with no mercy. “FUCKING HELL - JUNGKOOK!” “Shut up” he grabbed my throat, moving me any kind of way as he still continued to fuck up inside me.
“I’m gonna cum! Daddy make me cum daddy please” “You wanna cum on that cock, gon head baby cum for daddy. Bust a nut bitch” my eyes shut tight at his words and I came all over his cock, slicking it as i heard his chuckles as a reaction. “Fuck, extra wet. Guess we ain’t need lube after all” he put me on my stomach on the remainder of the couch, putting my ass up in the air with the dick still inside me.
“W-Wait i just came jungkook hold on - FUCK!” he vigorously fucked into me, slapping my ass or any skin he came in contact with as he fucked me with everything in him. “Fuck that pussy so good. So fucking good clenching on me like that, you holdin on aren’t you not letting me go. You not letting that dick go baby?” I moaned, grabbing everything and anything i could reach my hands too as his dick continued to go in and out inside of me. It was too much..he was definitely messing me up.
“Fuck im finna cum, i’m finna cum in that pussy you want me to cum in that pussy? Hm? You want me to cum in that pussy? You gon let me?” He grabbed my hair and tilt my head all the way back, my eyes meeting his sexy dark ones. “Y—Yes come in me. Come in my pussy daddy fill me up. I want you to fill me daddy please!” i gargled, my throat dry as ever as his pace quickened. “Fuck keep lookin at me like that you gon make me cum. Fuck….i’m cummin” “Wait - wait daddy i’m close” “Cum with me baby cum with daddy feel me fill up that tight little pussy huh, you want me to fill up that tight little pussy - shit i’m cummin” My moans got louder as his pace quickened once more then we both came, me squirting and him fucking his cum inside me.
“Good girl, feel that shit you nasty. You nasty huh” i moaned and whimpered at the still tight grip on my hair as i felt broke and drained. “Fuck, you ok?” i hummed, my eyes fluttering shut at the intense sex we had. I felt his kisses on my shoulder blades and back. “You want some food?” i nodded, laying lifeless on the couch as i continued to receive Jungkook’s sweet and gentle kisses.
Minutes later while i’m still laying lifeless on the couch, he put me in a shirt and a movie and fixed us some plates. He came to me as i sat up on the couch with my legs crossed. He handed me my food ever so innocently making me scoff and both of laugh at the action as he sat beside me scooting me closer. “I wonder what the others are thinking” i chuckled making him chuckle as well. “Well i probably have an idea” i looked at him, both smirking at each other.
“You’ve succeeded”
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frenchkisstheabyss · 6 days
Text
♥︎ The Way I Am ♥︎
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♥︎ Pairing ♥︎ fiance!seonghwa x gn!makeup artist!reader
♥︎ Genre ♥︎ fluff/angst
♥︎ Summary ♥︎ Your fiance's been successfully keeping his love of makeup hidden from you. That is until you come home early from a trip and find him using your things. Your reaction is (of course ♥︎) the exact opposite of what he feared.
♥︎ Word Count ♥︎ 1.6kish
♥︎ Warnings ♥︎ Hwa does express his worries about being vulnerable with his identity so if that's sensitive to you that's super important to note. Other than that, nothing. Just fluff and reassurance ♥︎
♥︎ A/N ♥︎ I hope that if you're reading this and you feel nervous about expressing your gender identity out of fear that people won't accept you, you know that you're totally worthy of love and acceptance no matter what. Love you ♥︎
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"'Cause I love you more than I could ever promise and you take me the way I am" - Ingrid Michaelson (The Way I Am)
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Seonghwa hopes that you don’t notice. A few drops of foundation here. A swipe or two of eyeliner there. Maybe some lipstick or blush if he’s feeling adventurous. He wishes he had the courage to ask you to do this for him. You’re the most talented makeup artist he’s ever met. Watching you work is like art. How wonderful it’d be to bare the most vulnerable part of himself to you. To be your lover and your canvas. But every time he tries to open up the fear creeps in and the words won’t come out.
So this is the way it is—the way it’ll always have to be. Your wedding’s less than a month away and the thought that he might lose you makes his soul ache. He can’t risk losing you. He won’t risk losing you. 
Tonight he’s raided your makeup supplies for everything necessary to create the soft, romantic look of his dreams. With the warm air of a summer night blowing through the bedroom window and Spotify’s best Taylor Swift mix blasting in his over-ear headphones, the vibe couldn't be more perfect.
He’s been like this for at least an hour, seated at your vanity trying to get his foundation to match. You have every shade imaginable but none are what he wants. And mixing them? Well—
“Fuck” Seonghwa huffs, staring at his reflection, frustration and two pale layers of foundation painted all over his face. He scans the meticulously organized desk for the makeup wipes and gets to work cleaning it off. It takes everything in him not to throw something but he manages to suppress his violent urges long enough to pick up a brush again.
Thank god he has all night to do this. You won’t be home from your trip until tomorrow afternoon. By then he’ll have put everything back in its place and you’ll never know a thing. At least that’s the way things were meant to go but the unexpected glimmer of your reflection lingering by the bedroom door destroys that in an instant.
You thought it’d be sweet to surprise Seonghwa by coming home early. The event you were hired for had been canceled and you always missed each other so much. You figured it only made sense to come back home. You even stopped at his favorite takeout spot on the way from the airport to pick up dinner.
No one’s ever come close to treating you with as much love and care as Seonghwa has. Everything he does makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Just glancing down at the sparkly ring on your finger is enough to make your face light up. Any chance you have to make him feel the same way isn’t one you’re willing to pass up.
But, for the first time since you met, his face doesn’t light up at the sight of you. It darkens as if the world has ended and you can’t help but feel like you’re the one who ended it. 
“Hwa—” you sigh softly, approaching the vanity where he sits nearly catatonic. Tears collect in the corner of his deep brown eyes, his fingers beginning to shake around the makeup brush. “It’s okay” you promise, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. Seonghwa pulls away from you, tearing the headphones off of his head. His dark hair hangs in his face giving him a safe place to hide from the disappointment he knows is waiting for him if he dares meet your gaze.
Only there isn’t any...
This isn’t what you expected to come home to but it’s far from a surprise for you. One of the things you always loved about Seonghwa was how comfortable he seemed to be in his own skin. While other guys saw every little thing as a threat to their masculinity, he treated femininity as something beautiful. You can’t even count the amount of times you’ve wanted to do his makeup. Those eyes. Those lips. That killer bone structure. He’s perfect for that kind of thing. You wish now more than ever that you’d said something.
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t—I’m just—I’m so sorry” he mumbles, choking back tears. You outstretch your arms to wrap him in a hug but he slips away again, rushing to the closet to grab his gym bag. “Hwa, what are you doing? Can you stop for a second? Please?” you beg, following him around the room as he blindly tosses things into the bag.
You’ve never felt more invisible. Your words fall on deaf ears and each time you reach out to touch him he recoils. Seonghwa grabs his phone from the dresser, snatching free of the grip you have on the sleeve of his shirt. This is his worst nightmare. In the blink of an eye he lost everything, he’s convinced of that. He doesn’t know what to say or what to do. All he can think to do is run. 
“You can’t do this!” you shout, trailing him down the hallway, “You have to talk to me!”
Seonghwa breathes in, beyond pissed off at the few tears that manage to escape. “I have to leave. I have to—to protect you.”
Hearing the pain in his voice, you nearly trip on your luggage to throw yourself in front of the door. “Is it to protect me? Or to protect yourself?”
That stops him in his tracks, his foot already halfway into a pair of sneakers. Who’s he running away for really? It’s a question that only makes the pounding in his head worse. He knows that you love him. You tell him every morning, even when you’re apart, how special he is to you. You’re begging him to stay but he can’t. He can’t. Why can’t he?
“Move please” he asks, his hand tight around the doorknob. 
You fold your arms across your chest, back pressed to the door, “No.” 
“Move…please” his voice is deeper this time, the request sounding more like a demand. 
Slipping your hands beneath the curtain of jade hair, you rest them on cheeks that burn hot enough to heat your palms. Your fingers are stained with tears and what makeup remains on his cheeks. “I love you so much” you whisper, refusing to let him get away this time, “I need you to look at me.”
You hold your breath in the silence that follows, exhaling only when his mascara smeared eyes meet yours. “I. Love. You. So. Much” you say but slower this time, putting emphasis on every word. Your heart breaks for him, for how terrified you can tell he’s been of this happening.
You raise one of your hands to show him the makeup covering it. “I don’t care about this, Hwa. I care about you.” The faint smile on your face speaks of comfort, a truly safe place for him to be if he wants it. His hand falls away from the doorknob as he lets the gym bag hit the floor with a thud.
“I would’ve told you before but I…” he pauses to summon the courage to go on, “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore.” You let out a sigh of relief at the sensation of his arms easing around your waist. He holds you so tightly that you’d swear you were the one trying to run away. 
“Oh, my love. I wish you could meet yourself so you’d know how amazing you are” you sniffle, only now noticing the trickling of your own tears. “I want to be with you—all of you—whatever that looks like.”
Seonghwa uses his hands to wipe away your tears, leaving them tinted in the light makeup you threw on before your flight. “And see, we’re twins now” you giggle, desperate to lighten the mood. Seonghwa stares at you longingly, the light gradually reigniting behind his eyes. “I love you too” he smiles, his lips brushing yours, “So much.”
He kisses you in the most innocent way and it’s like your first kiss all over again. Packed with nerves and excitement that melt away the longer you linger here. It’ll take some time to fade—the fear of being vulnerable—but it will fade and you’ll be there for it all. 
“Will you help me fix it?” he asks, nervously fidgeting with the waist of your paints, “You don’t have to but I have a picture on my phone and—” You cover his mouth with your hand before he can say anything more, “Of course I’ll help you. Shower first though?” Seonghwa suddenly becomes hyper aware of the slight mess on his hands—in his hair—on both of your clothes. “I’d really like that.” 
Kissing him on the forehead, you push his hair back to get a good look at him, “We’re doing dreamy summer vibes? Something soft?” 
“How’d you know that?”
“I don’t know” you shrug, “Maybe I’m just that good. You were also going super hard on the Taylor Swift so I kinda assumed. Just blasting. I didn’t know it was that real for you.” 
“Shut up” he laughs, squeezing you so tight you can’t breathe. 
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry!” you giggle, trying to get away. But he won’t let you. Instead he lays his head on your shoulder, willing to tolerate being a total mess for a bit longer if it means holding you. The way that things have been...it doesn’t have to be like that now.
And it never will be again.
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