Apocaliptyc and insane my dreams will never change

“Was it that bad ?” He questioned, voice taking on a hint of empathy.

“It was okay,” you shrugged, lying through your teeth.

After the catastrophic evening you’d spent, the last thing you wanted was to expose to your coworkers just how bad and plainly sad your romantic and sex life had gotten over the past few years.

Jake let out a chuckle as he sinked a striped ball over by the pool table, “weren’t you supposed to spend the night at his place as well ? Poor guy must have not even know the clit existed for you to be here with us instead of getting laid.”

“Don’t be gross, Hangman.” Bradley scolded, watching him sink yet another ball.

“Not gross, just facts. So, what happened ?” Jake pressed.

Shifting on your feet, you debated on how to deliver the news. You definitely couldn’t say Jake was right, even if he were, admitting out loud such a thing was not a smart move, it never was with him. Alas, your short silence seemed enough for Jake to grip on and roll with.

“See ?” One outstretched hand pointed out to you, “listen, sweetheart, you know my generosity knows no bounds. My door is always open if you need a real man to show you a good time.”

You were about to retort something in hopes of shutting him up for good when—

“Please keep that door fucking closed and locked, for all of our sakes.” Natasha said behind you, seemingly coming back from the toilet. She looked at you quizzically when she spotted you, eyes raking up and down your dressed up form, “what are you doing here ?”

“Her date sucked ass,” Mickey answered for you.

Natasha made a sympathetic moue that didn’t even bother to hide how fake it was.

“I mean I don’t want to say I told you so but…”

“So don’t.” You pleaded, already embarrassed enough.

“He did seem a bit selfish in bed.”

Javy scoffed, “that’s not something you can see.”

“Sorry, Coyote, but it absolutely is,” Natasha doubled down., pickup up her beer and taking a sip, “your best friend is a prime example of it.” She pointed to Jake.

“Hey, what the fuck ?” Jake took offense, straightening back up from taking a shot,“I’m a very generous and selfless lover,” he stated, one hand covering his heart as if he was swearing and living by those words, “that’s why I was so very kindly offering my services to Viper over here.”

Natasha’s lips briefly curled in disgust before quickly stretching out in a smirk as she looked at you.

“Or you know, if you ever want to have a real good time, you could always finally shoot your shot with women.” She teasingly slurred, snaking a playful hand around your waist.

You swatted her hand away with a chuckle and tried to ignore the way your heartbeat had unreasonably picked up.

“Yeah, maybe one day,” you joked, hoping nobody would notice the strange strain in your voice.

“Well, you know who to call when that day comes,” she winked at you, grabbing a pool cue and leaning on the table, giving you an unintentional — or was it ? — view of her cleavage.

And no matter how loud you screamed in your head at your eyes not to go there, your gaze still inevitably landed on the swell of her breasts. How pretty they looked and sat against the fabric of her fitted tank top. You could even make out the faint outline of her nipples poking through when she straightened back up after sinking a ball, and you immediately averted your gaze.

“Phoenix, you have to stop believing you can turn every straight girl gay, it’s doing awful things to your ego,” Jake said, taking his turn leaning over the pool table.

“Excuse me, you’re the one talking about ego ?” She snickered.

“To be fair, remember that one girl you flirted with when we docked in Cannes during deployment two years ago ? She came out as a lesbian right after.” Mickey remarked.

Natasha pointed to him, visibly delighted by his intervention, “thank you Fanboy, for backing up that I am simply stating facts.”

Jake scoffed, shaking his head, but you barely heard any words that came out of his mouth after that.

Natasha was a lesbian.

It was known, widely. It wasn’t something she hid or made a big deal about. She never felt the need to outright and explicitly spell it out to people, mostly because she thought she quite looked the part but also because she didn’t like the fact that most people seemed to think it was something that needed to be announced, straight people didn’t need to proclaim their sexuality, so why should she ?

Still, if Natasha thought her attraction to women was quite obvious, it still felt like a shock to you when three years prior to this, when you had just been admitted as the newest member of their already well knitted squad, she had casually mentioned an ex.

“Oh my god, my ex used to do this all the time ! She was stuck on the idea that—“

Your brain had immediately latched on to one single word, and you never knew such a short assemblage of letters was enough to somehow rewire your entire world view.

‘She’.

You had felt something in your chest then, like your heart contracting uncomfortably in your rib cage, and you didn’t like the feeling of it if you were honest. You hadn’t liked it at all.

But you forced yourself to show none of it, because what even was this reaction ? You didn’t want Natasha to think you were uncomfortable, or worse, somehow disgusted by her casual admission. You had plenty of friends who were themselves attracted to women, whether they were bisexual, lesbian, pansexual… so what the actual fuck was going on with you ?

You simply nodded as she continued to tell her story, hoping she wouldn’t notice the absolute turmoil of emotion her words had caused within you. Eventually, you had gained the courage to engage the subject, if only to show her that you were totally cool with it and that whatever weird reaction you might have let slip had nothing to do with who she was.

“So,” you started and immediately cleared your throat when your voice came out strangely croaky, “are you also into men or just women ?” You asked, opting for casualness but completely failing as your voice ever so slightly wavered on the word ‘women’.

Thankfully, Natasha didn’t seem to notice the unusual and strange behaviour you were exhibiting.

“Oh no just women, thank God for that,” she chuckled, “you ?”

She hadn’t meant anything by it, truly, she was simply returning the question, one she personally deemed harmless. But it sill landed on you as a shock — the second of the night you had realised uneasily — and it made your heart skip a beat as you replied what was the undeniable truth, your undeniable truth.

“Oh I’m straight.”

That day Natasha had simply hummed, quickly moving on to other matters and you had been so, so thankful for that.

The years following, you and her had grown to be close friends, and who wouldn’t ? Being the only two women pilot in an elite Naval Aviation squad was bound to strengthen the ties. Never again had you felt this weird sensation of contraction in your chest whenever Natasha mentioned her sexuality or the women she’d been with, and you were glad, because it meant it had been a fluke. Just a weird, inexplicable, and one time thing kind of body reaction. You had both even fallen into the depth of friendship where you’d pretend flirt with each other, making the rest of the guys very confused about which way you swung.

“I’m straight,” you assured them almost on a weekly basis.

“Then why the fuck do you act gay as fuck with Phoenix ?” Jake would interject, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s very hot to watch,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you and you made a gagging sound, “but you ought to admit it’s a little weird.”

“Oh my god, Hangman, it’s just for fun ! Don’t ruin it, please,” Natasha would defend you.

Before Jake could get another word in, Mickey would chime in.

“Yeah, it’s just something people do, I pretend I’m gay with Payback when we go out.”

“Yeah but that’s because It’s you and you are fucking weird, Fanboy, nothing about you surprises me anymore.”

Natasha would often jokingly — half jokingly ?— tell you to try women, that unless you actually had sex with one, how could you know for sure you didn’t like it ? One time you had retorted that she should try men then, just to be sure. She had casually replied that she had actually hooked up with a man once, and concluded it wasn’t for her. That had shut you up quickly.

Jake’s voice rising in volume got you out of your thoughts.

“That’s bullshit, having sex for six hours in a row is physically impossible. What, you actually think I would believe this ?”

Natasha let out a laugh, “that’s true Hangman, I don’t know what you want me to tell you. You know, women don’t really need a refractory period, so as long as you both want it, you can just keep going.”

Jake simply scoffed for what felt like the millionth time tonight, and Natasha saw the perfect opportunity to push harder. She walked up to him, her cue stick still in hand and rubbed his shoulder, as if comforting him while her face took on an empathetic expression.

“It’s okay, buddy, I know that if you men last longer than ten minutes it’s a time to put in the records books.”

Jake simply looked at her, and she seemed absolutely delighted to notice he didn’t have an answer ready and loaded like he usually did.

“And you guys always think penetration is the main event when it’s not even in the top three things you can do in bed,” she pressed on.

“And how would you know ?” Jake questioned once he had finally gotten his voice back, clearly offended his dick wasn’t considered the centerpiece of sex.

She didn’t even dignify him with a response, simply choosing to maintain his daring gaze with a smirk and a raised brow, “you have so much to learn of this world, Bagman.” She finally said in a condescending tone.

Natasha carelessly handed off her cue stick to Javy and made a beeline for you, “now let’s get you drunk, gorgeous, you need to forget about tonight.”

You couldn’t have agreed more.

The drinks kept magically appearing in your hands, you weren’t sure exactly who was refilling them with such efficiency but you were happy that with every sip you took, the memory of your disastrous date was slowly leaving your brain, drowning in the alcohol you were rapidly swallowing.

The night passed in a blur. The only clear things you could make out was Natasha’s voice in your ear, whispering things you couldn’t quite understand but that still made you giggle uncontrollably, her hands gripping your forearm when she laughed or squeezing your waist as she walked behind you… You weren’t sure anymore if it was her closeness or the alcohol making you feel so warm.

When she drove you home, you found yourself feeling disappointed the night was ending. She helped you out of the car, helped you inside your building and accompanied you all the way to your apartment door on the sixth floor.

“Thanks, Nat,” you slurred, exhaustion and alcohol weakening your speech as she was opening your door with your keys, she had stayed perfectly sober to keep an eye on you.

“No problem, sweetheart.”

A swarm of butterflies seemed to take off as violently as Super Honerts in your stomach at the nickname. Natasha was the type of person to regularly use pet names and terms of endearments for her close friends. You had always liked it, it always made you feel strangely warm inside, all gooey like. It made you feel special.

“Thank God we have the day off tomorrow huh ?” She chuckled, careful to not speak too loudly in the quiet hallway.

“Yep.”

Helping you inside, she took you to your bedroom, made you sat on your bed. She kneeled down in front of you and carefully started to take off the pretty heels you had chosen to wear. The visual made your head spin even more than the intoxicating amount of alcohol you had consumed.

“Are you gonna be okay ?” She asked, voice so gentle you wanted to live in its embrace forever.

You simply nodded lazily and extended your arms to her still kneeling form. Natasha smiled fondly and instantly indulged you, rising up to wrap your her arms around you.

Her smell immediately engulfed you entirely, something sweet and airy that reminded you of the beach on a bright and early spring morning. You could also faintly make out the sweaty and alcohol dripped scent of the Hard Deck from her spending all night at the bar. But instead of putting you off like it probably should have, you found yourself taking what you hoped was a discreet whiff. The combination of fragrance went straight to your brain, putting it into this strange and overly relaxed state, similar to when the alcohol had first started entering your body a few hours ago.

The feeling of her breasts pressing against yours made goosebumps rise up along your arms. She felt so soft. Unconsciously, or perhaps very much intentionally, you squeezed her harder, in a little perverted aim to feel more of her.

“Goodnight, baby.” She almost purred when she pulled away, nearly making you whine out in disappointment, but the pet name quickly acted as a soothing balm over your wound.

“Goodnight.”

You watched her exit your bedroom and keenly listened to her steps throughout your apartment, you listened as the door opened and finally closed behind her, leaving you all alone.

Your bedroom felt cold now, without Natasha’s presence to warm up the space like she usually did. Plopping down on the bed with a huff, you found it surprising that Morpheus hadn’t yet taken you into his warm embrace. Instead of the much needed coma inducing sleep you were expecting, flashes of Natasha took your mind hostage — or was it really a hostage situation if you didn’t mind it ?

You had always admired Natasha, that was a given, how could you not ? She was the literal and ethereal definition of a strong, independent woman, the kind every little girl looked up to and aspired to be.

Though sometimes you had to admit you acted in very strange ways around her, usually, you tried hard to not dwell too much on it because otherwise you would over analyze and pick your mind apart over every little interaction you’ve ever had.

You thought about the first time you had shared the women’s communal shower with her. Being in the military, it wasn’t new for you to shower with other women, it was the norm. Something you had to forcibly start doing when entering the Naval Academy. Anxious at first, to so casually expose your naked body to any possible judgmental stares, the feeling had progressively disappeared over the years, when you realised that nobody cared. You were all women, aware of what bodies looked like, so really you had learned there was nothing to be scared or shy about. You had even found it to be a quite relaxing moment, away from the overwhelming majority of men that flew within the US Navy.

But relaxation was thrown out the window the first time Natasha had casually undressed herself in front of you, mid conversation, to go wash herself under the warm jets. She’d been talking to you about some apparent crazy stunt Jake had pulled — once again, she had insisted on that fact — during training. But Jake wasn’t really on your mind at the moment, your brain was being sent into overdrive by the sheer vision of her.

Almost as if on autopilot, you undressed as well and followed her in the communal shower, where she was rising off under a jet while continuing to complain about your fellow squad mate. Your eyes kept quickly flicking over to her, in an irrepressible urge, a need to see more of her.

Natasha stood next to you, apparently completely oblivious to your inner crisis happening just a few centimeters away from her. Her eyes were closed as she let the warm water cascade down her body and relax her muscles. Her breasts sat prettily on her chest and your stomach churned at the sight of her perky nipples.

“I don’t even know how he has all these women at his feet, I mean I can understand that he’s hot, I don’t really see it but I can admit it, but as soon as he opens his stupid mouth they should be running away…”

Natasha’s eyes were closed as she kept on talking. She wetted her long black, letting her hands run comfortably down her body and you nearly let out a very embarrassing and inexplicable sound when her fingers ever so slightly brushed her breasts and caught on her erect nipples.

You felt as if liquid lava had been poured inside your lower stomach, your whole entire skin was burning and it certainly wasn’t because of the lukewarm water from the base’s showers. Your gaze continued to travel down on its own, feeling as though you didn’t really have control over where your eyes wanted to roam, stare so intense, as if intent on trying to graze her with a look. You followed the curve of her sternum, down to the faint outlines of her abs, her hips…

Your breath imperceptibly hitched when your eyes landed on the space between her legs. Her pubis was covered in short, jet black pubic hair that were neatly trimmed, and when you felt some weird and down right depraved disappointment when you realised the folds of her pussy were hidden by her thighs, your head snapped away, shame and guilt eating away at your insides and replacing the enjoyable, and leg weakening feeling of warmth the acute observation of Natasha had given you.

What the actual fuck were you doing ?

That day, you hadn’t stop thinking about that weird episode in the shower.

Over the years, despite the guilt and the perversion of it all, you hadn’t ever stopped looking at Natasha. Prying eyes raking over her frame every time you thought she wasn’t looking. Whether in the shower, on the tarmac in her flight suit, or at the Hard Deck when she was wearing those low neckline tank tops that pushed her breasts together and made, ever so subtly, apparent the outline of her nipples. It was a habit you found hard to shake, but to made it easier on your conscience you had reduced it to envy. Envy, and perhaps a little healthy jealousy you would say.

Natasha was gorgeous, truly. From the refined traits of her delicate face to the well sculpted and taken care of muscles of her body, there wasn’t an inch of her that wasn’t beautiful. So yeah, if you looked a little too long at her naked breasts in the shower, it was because you envied her, wished yours would be as pretty and sit as nicely as hers. And if you happened to catch an unconventionally extensive look at her lips, it was because they looked good, so soft… Her hands, delicate but strong at the same time, looked like they were well designed to… to hold a control stick…?

And if sometimes, very rarely, you wondered how her perfect tits would feel in your hands, well, you had simply decided it was nobody’s business. Strangely enough, you had also decided it was none of yours either.

When your drunk brain, whether still drunk from the alcohol or now drunk from these thoughts about your squad mate you weren’t sure, finally let you go to sleep, it was a restless one. Filled with images of her.

Waking up was rough, to say the least. Your head was pounding, and an immediate wave of dizziness hit you as soon as you tried to sit up.

Yeah, you were never doing this again. Or… well, at least not until the next time you’d hook up with a guy and it ended up making you miserable instead of relaxed and euphoric like good sex was supposed to make you feel.

Flopping back down on your pillow, careful not to worsen your headache, a loud knock on your door startled you.

“Oh my fucking god,” you groaned into your sheets, seriously debating on getting up to go get the door.

You were fully ready to go back to sleep when the person knocked again, louder this time.

“Open up, bitch, I’ve got breakfast.” Natasha’s voice traveled all the way to your bedroom.

Weirdly, the sound of her was apparently enough to make you forget about your dizziness as you got up and hastily made your way to the door, heart beating perhaps a bit too loud as it should have been simply greeting a friend.

Opening up the door, you were met with Natasha’s dazzling smile. Her hair was up and she was wearing another one of her goddamn tank top, and you didn’t know if it was a curse or a blessing for you that she loved wearing them so much. She was holding up a paper bag from which came a heavenly smell, one that was slowly waking up your upset stomach from the alcohol. Before you could even say anything, Natasha made her way inside, walking right past you, gifting you with a quick whiff of her sweet smell.

She put the paper bag on your small coffee table and went straight for the cabinets in your kitchen, getting out a pill of ibuprofen and filling up a glass of water before making her way back to you and handing both items to you.

“Drink this.”

Chuckling at her authoritative tone, you took the pill and the glass, “yes, ma’am.”

Taking a sip, you missed the way Natasha’s eyes seemed to ever so slightly glaze over, suppressing a smile by poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue. What you did notice though, was the way it had felt to call her that, way too good. Jesus, the military really had messed you up, you thought.

You also missed the way a teasing glint went alight in her gaze as she watched you diligently swallow the ibuprofen pill.

“Good girl,” she purred, walking past you, giving your waist a playful squeeze on the way as she started to set up breakfast in your living room.

You forced yourself to chuckle out loud, trying to sound amused and not like those two casual words had rewritten your entire DNA. A huge flush hit your entire body, making you feel way too hot all of a sudden, weird, Californian heatwaves weren’t supposed to hit yet at this time of year…

Hyper aware of everything happening in your body, the way your clothes sticked uncomfortably to your skin, the way your heart hadn’t slow down its frenetic rhythm ever since you had opened the door, the way the place between your legs kept getting warmer and warmer…

You finally joined her over with the awkward and confusing sensation of your panties sticking to your progressively wet folds. Yeah, you were really craving a good fuck, that was all. Your brain was overwhelmed with horniness, not thinking straight, which surely explained all these strange feelings… right ?

You plopped down on your couch next to her as she immediately handed you a plate full of pancakes, your mouth watered and your heart swelled at the sight.

“You’re the best.”

‘I love you’ was on the tip of your tongue, something you had told her casually numerous times. She was your friend, friends loved each other, so why did it feel so awkward to say it now ?

“I know,” she simply replied with a smile, biting a piece of pancake off her fork.

Conversation flowed easily after that, thank God. You were back in your usually rhythm, a familiar one that brought a pleasant warm to your chest.

You were complaining about how Cyclone had been on your ass lately when the sounds coming from the tv, turned on for some background noise, stopped you short.

The two main characters of some shady tv show were getting it on, and that was putting it lightly to say they were full fucking like wild rabbits on the HD screen of your TV.

Natasha made a disgusted noise, prompted simply by the view of heterosexual inter course, you laughed before letting out a big sigh.

“I really, really need to get properly laid. Nat, I’m so fucking horny all the time, it’s becoming a seriously urgent issue.”

She simply looked at you for a moment, an unreadable expression flashing in her eyes.

“Shit, maybe I’ll actually end up taking Hangman’s offer if this keeps going like that.”

That seemed to wake her up.

“Yeah, hell no. You’re not doing that.”

“Well I might need to at one point you know, I physically cannot keep going on like that. It’s actually becoming damaging to my mental wellbeing.”

She paused, putting her pancake plate away on the coffee table.

“If you really wanted to get laid properly, you could always try women.”

“Nat…”

“Hey, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. I’m just saying, any woman could take way better care of you than fucking Hangman. You just have to have an open mind.”

Her dark eyes were boring into yours, not letting you escape her stare and you felt yourself squirm under her prying gaze.

“Does ‘any woman’ include you ?” You asked chuckling, the joking tone you used leaving a bitter taste in your mouth for a second.

A smirk stretched Natasha’s lips as she snaked a flirty hand onto your thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“You know it does, gorgeous.”

You almost jerked your thigh away from her touch from how much the casual contact ignited such a strong fire in your lower stomach. She was sitting so close to you, her thumb rubbing small circles on your clothed skin, she smelled so good, and fuck her nipples were peaking through that goddamn tank top again…

You flicked from her eyes to her lips without anything you could do to prevent it, like her mouth was a magnet, attracting you with the force of physics you simply could not resist. Natasha’s smirk widened, raising a small, inquisitive brow.

“Sweetheart,” she tried to grab your attention, voice as soft as a murmur, “is there something you wanna ask me ?”

Your chest was heaving with each breath you took, it felt as if your whole skin was burning as your eyes went back up to her eyes. Something warm bloomed in your lower stomach at the way she was looking at you, her hand slid higher on your leg, her fingers brushing your inner thigh and getting dangerously close to the space between you legs that was now almost painfully throbbing in your panties. Her question barely registered in your mind, the word ‘sweetheart’ had taken hostage all your cognitive abilities.

“Baby ?” She gently prompted, an amused smile replacing her self assured smirk, “I asked you something.”

Oh fuck.

All doubts, deep rooted denial and inhibitions went out the window. Your brain was clouded by a pleasurable fog, one that went by the name of Natasha.

A very embarrassing sound escaped you without anything you could do about it, like a little pathetic wine, a desperate call for her to get closer. Natasha bit her lip, eyes becoming progressively more half lidded. She squeezed your tender flesh.

“That’s a very pretty sound, sweetheart.” She cooed, the praise seeping into your mind, melting you from the inside out, “but I need words. Can you do that for me ? Tell me what you want ?”

Her hand was becoming more daring along your thigh but her body remained a respectful distance away from yours, it made you ache, it felt unbearable, wrong even for her to be for far away from you.

“I want you,” you managed to speak up in a breath, voice strained and pleading, “I want you so bad, Nat, please.”

Natasha’s cheeks took on the prettiest flush, “I always knew you’d beg so pretty, sweetheart.” Her hand left your thigh to settle on your waist while the other cupped your cheek, “do you want me to kiss you ?”

You nodded eagerly, not sure you could handle another second of her lips not being on yours, but she tsked softly.

“Use your words like a good girl, mmh ? I need to hear you say it, gorgeous.”

“Fuck,” you whined out, dizzy with sheer desire, you probably would have been embarrassed if the only thought plaguing your mind at the moment wasn’t her tongue deep down in your throat, “I want you to kiss me so fucking bad, Nat, please don’t make me wait any longer.”

“Awww, baby,” she cooed in a faux sympathetic tone, “don’t worry, I’m gonna take such good care of you.”

Natasha finally leaned in and her lips collided with yours with a gentleness that contrasted greatly with the fire igniting your insides. The contact seemed to unlock a floodgate of sensation within you and a small moan escaped from the back of your throat, one that undeniably testified to just how much you loved this. Her tongue gently probed at the entrance of your mouth, as if asking for permission, and you easily gave it to her, opening up your lips to let her in. Natasha’s tongue met yours and you could faintly taste the maple syrup she lathered her pancakes in only minutes prior. She lightly sucked on your tongue and you didn’t even know it was possible but somehow you felt the sensation explode deep within your lower stomach. Natasha pulled away and you hadn’t even realized you were running out of breath, too eager to taste more of her. She looked nothing short of heavenly. A few strands of hair had escaped her bun, her face was flushed with the most beautiful shade of red you had ever been given the chance to see, her lips were shiny with both of your spit and ever so slightly swollen.

“How did that feel ?” She asked, eyes flicking between your mouth and your eyes.

Words couldn’t have possibly described what that had felt like. Unable to find your voice, you leaned in again, almost lurching at her and your mouth met hers a bit more forcefully than intended. You felt her lips stretch out into a coy smile into the kiss and that only fueled the desire burning in your veins. She hummed against you, the sound resonating within you and now making you hyper aware of all the slick accumulating in your panties.

“Fuck, I love how eager you are,” she whispered against your lips, mouth never leaving yours.

In one swift movement, Natasha swung one of her leg across both of yours and suddenly, she was on top of you, her weight sitting down on your lap. Your breath hitched into the kiss, a mix of surprise and sheer horniness. You felt as if your internal temperature had just risen by a thousand degrees. Her weight pressing down on you felt nothing short of perfect, and you felt another string of slick get helplessly pushed out of you at the knowledge that the only thing separating her pussy from yours were a few mere items of clothing.

Having her on top of you felt feverish. For a second you were weirdly brought back to the first time you had ever watched porn, your brain waking up to something entirely new, maybe a little bit scary and yet so enticing and exciting you couldn’t look away, your sense awakening for the first time. It wasn’t your first time now, but it sure felt like it was. Even the briefest of Natasha’s touch was enough to have you moan louder than the jackhammering of the guy you had hooked up with the night before.

“You can touch me you know,” she whispered in your ear, licking your lobe and lightly biting down on it, sending a shiver down your spine.

It was only then that you realized your arms had been uselessly sticking to your sides, like touching her was something out of a dream and not something you were actually allowed to do. When Natasha pulled away, she seemed to decipher the conflict, the hesitation in your eyes. She smiled softly and quickly pecked your lips before taking your hands in hers, and oh so slowly guiding them to the hem of her tank top, slipping right underneath.

Her skin was warm, burning even, and it felt good knowing that maybe you were affecting her even just a third of the way she was affecting you. You watched, mesmerized, as the bumps that your pair of hands made underneath the fabric traveled up her stomach, which dipped at the brush of your fingertips. How fucking cute, you thought. Her ribs and… your eyes widened when it finally clicked into your slowed down horny brain where the final destination was. Natasha let out an amused chuckled above you as her hands snaked down to hold your wrist and guide your hand to the one place you had been in denial about obsessing over for the past three years.

A desperate moan left your lips as soon as your hands made contact with her breasts, they felt divine and fit perfectly into your palms, like they were fucking made for you, your brain supplied.

“Yeah,” Natasha encouraged you, voice just a tiny bit lower, clouded by lust, “always knew you were a boobs girl.” Her sentence ended in a pleasured hum when you squeeze her tender flesh.

“What do you mean ?” You asked breathily, her words somehow registering into your mind.

Her smirk widened, pupils dilated as she looked down at you.

“What ? You seriously thought I wouldn’t notice you sneaking peeks at my tits ?” She leaned in, stealing kisses off you as she spoke, “you’re not exactly discreet, baby. I didn’t even liked these tank tops that much until I noticed that you very much loved them.”

A fleeting embarrassment made its way through the fog clouding your brain, “you have amazing boobs, Nat,” you whined, as if that explained every perverted look you had stole of her.

She made a low, appreciative sound in her throat.

“It’s okay, no need to be shy now, sweetheart. They’re all yours,” she encouraged you, arching a little into your touch.

This last sentence shouldn’t have made you shiver as much as it did. You squeezed them a little tighter, loving the weight on your palms. You let out a choked out moan when your thumbs rubbed over her nipples and you couldn’t believe you were feeling this as strongly as if she were the one touching you.

“Fuck,” she breathed out, “keep doing that.”

“You like that ?” You asked, voice shaky and betraying your sheer need to please her.

She hummed as her hips began to slowly grind against yours. The sensation sent a spark of electricity through you as you continued to grope and massage her breasts, your thumbs circling her perky nipples. When you got enough confidence to try and be a bit daring, you slightly pulled on her erect buds, perhaps a bit more forcefully than intended. You were about to apologize but the moan Natasha let out shut you up.

God, What a beautiful sound. One that only sunk you deeper into your daze, with one thought screaming at the forefront of your mind : please her, make her feel good.

Natasha’s hips sped up a bit, shamelessly rutting her clothed pussy against yours and you didn’t even dare to imagine the state of your panties at the moment. You watched, mesmerized, as her eyes closed, focusing on the sensation, one of her hands met yours through the fabric of her tank top, urging you to squeeze harder.

A sudden urge took a hold of you and the words were out of your mouth almost as soon as your mind had thought them.

“Can I take it off ?”

She pretended to think it over for a painfully long, agonizing second.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” she purred before grabbing the hem of her tank top, looking you in the eyes and oh so slowly pulling it off.

Her upper body slowly revealed itself to you, the fabric getting caught on her breasts and giving the slightest bounce when it finally passes over. In one final, swift movement, her top was off, thrown disregarded on your couch.

Natasha sat there, warm and soft above you with her naked breasts right in your face.

“Fuck, Nat, you’re beautiful,” you marveled with transcendent honesty, because there were simply no other words for it.

The tip of her ears visibly reddened and you found it so endearing that a person as confident as her could be flustered by such a simple, but so deeply true, compliment. Emboldened by her reaction, you leaned in, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses along her collarbone. Natasha let out a shaky breath as her grinding resumed, you made your way down, letting your spit coat the swell of her breast. You licked at the valley between her breasts, the scent of her skin filling up your nostrils. God, you felt like a fucking dog in heat.

A moan vibrated in your throat when you finally closed your mouth around one of her nipples.

“Oh shit…” Natasha breathily moaned.

Your tongue swirled around her erect bud as your hand toyed with the other.

“Fuck, baby, that’s so good,” her hand came up behind your head to grab a fistful of your hair, gently holding you in place right where she wanted you.

Sucking on the bud one last time, you switched to her other breast. Your hands tracing down her body, landing on her ass, squeezing her cheeks appreciatively as you helped her grind herself on you. After making her whimper with a graze of your teeth you pulled back to look at her tits, nipples all puffy and swollen from your work and the visual made your pussy ache. No longer the pleasant tingling of being turned on but a true ache, an almost painful one at feeling so pent up and yet so untouched.

Natasha pulled you out of your admiration when she took your hand and guided it down her body, pushing past the waistband of her pants, past the waistband of her underwear and you gasped when your shaky fingers made contact with her core.

Fuck, she was wet. More than that, she was absolutely dripping. And you could feel the dizzying heat radiating off her pussy as your fingertips ghosted over her engorged folds.

“Let’s move to your bedroom, sweetheart,” she seductively whispered, akin to a siren luring you underwater, “there’s not enough space on this couch for what I want to do to you.”

She stood up from your lap, extended a hand out to you. You eagerly took it and almost tumbled to the ground trying to stand on weak knees and shaky legs.

“Careful, baby,” Natasha cooed, her hands grabbing you at the waist, keeping you steady on your feet.

You caught her lips in a sloppy kiss, finding that her mouth hadn’t touch yours in too long.

Stumbling through your apartment, you finally made it to your bedroom. Of course, Natasha had been there numerous times, but this time the context was so special that the vision of her in such an intimate part of your home made you swoon. Still making out, she blindly pushed you towards your bed, your hand coming up to take out her raven hair from her bun. Pulling away, you admired the way her hair framed her face and fell upon her naked breasts as Natasha gently pushed you onto the soft sheets.

Immediately pulling her with you, she landed on top of you with a giggle, and your mouth immediately latched on to one of her nipples again. The sound of her laugh melted into a moan at the contact of your wet, hot mouth.

“Baby, fuck. Sucking my tits so good…”

“Nat,” you called out to her, letting her sensitive bud go, “can we…”

You hesitated on the words and how to articulate the desire and need that was throbbing under your skin. Your whole body was aching for her, in desperate need to feel her close, feel her right there.

“Yeah ?” She encouraged you, eyes dilated but kind and patient as they gazed down at you.

Taking a shaky breath, you tried, “can we do that thing lesbians do ?”

You immediately cringed as soon as the words left your mouth. For fuck’s sake, what even was that ?! That ‘thing lesbians do’ ? God, If Natasha wasn’t walking out on you right now it would be a miracle.

“Gorgeous, can you look at me ?” She gently asked and you hadn’t even realized you had closed your eyes in fear of her reaction.

Very slowly, you peeled your eyes open, immediately landing on her fond expression. A mix of amusement, lust and softness.

“That thing lesbians do,” she slowly repeated, pretending to think about it as you groaned out in embarrassment, “are you talking about tribbing, sweetheart ?”

You were, you absolutely were.

Funnily enough, Natasha had been the one to teach you about tribbing years ago, when you had subtly inquired about lesbian sex. You had been hung up on her words and explanations then and now there was nothing more you wished than to share that with her, be that close to her.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to say anything wise.

Natasha hummed, “yeah ? You wanna rub pussies, baby ? Want to feel my clit on yours, all wet and slippery ?”

“Yes,” you so quickly agreed, her words only deepening your desire to do it, “yes, yes please Nat.”

Begging came to you surprisingly quickly when Natasha was involved, you noticed, and you weren’t sure if it made you more ashamed or turned on.

She hummed again, “I guess that can be arranged,” she teasingly conceded, her head leaning in to place fleeting kisses on your jaw, nipping at your skin and immediately soothing it with her tongue.

Her lips made her way down your neck, and you whimpered when she sucked at a particularly sensitive spot.

“You sound so good, sweetheart,” she praised in the crook of your neck, “so responsive, moaning so sweetly for me.”

When her mouth arrived at the neckline of your t-shirt, she looked up, silently asking for your permission and you almost knocked into her from how fast you sat up to tear it off with shaky hands.

She watched with half lidded eyes as you lied back down on your pillow, waiting for her mouth to set alight your skin again. Her gaze fell upon your naked breasts, not for the first time — she did her own share of peeking in the showers — and she made an appreciative noise in her throat.

“Fuck, look at you, baby. You’re so beautiful,” she marveled, letting her hands scoop up your boobs, “nipples so fucking perky for me…”

“Fuck…” you breathed out when her warm mouth engulfed one of your nipples, the other enduring the pulling and pinching of her fingers.

You were pretty sure your pants were completely soaked through, and there was a part of you that genuinely thought you would actually die if Natasha didn’t make her way down south immediately.

Your hand made its way through her hair, grabbing a fistful of it and gently tugging, trying to ease the loving assault on your nipples that was only worsening the ache in your panties.

“Please can we do it now ? I need you so fucking bad,” you whined out.

Natasha pulled back, gently brushing some hair away from your face that had stuck to your sweaty forehead.

“I know you do, sweetheart.” She purred, letting her nails drag down your stomach, all the way to the waistband on your pants, “ but see you are so used to men going straight to the point, you don’t know what it’s like to take your time,” she spoke, now toying with your zipper as you pathetically whined out again, your hips pushing towards her on their own, she chuckled, “I promise you won’t be complaining in a minute, sweet girl.”

She slowly took off your pants, and were met with the sight of your soaked through panties, clinging to your wet core.

“Oh baby,” she cooed, a hand coming up to pull on one of her nipple, as if to release some tension, “look at you,” she traced a finger down your clothed slit and you violently shuddered.

You made a helpless noise as Natasha continued to probe and poke at your covered core, making more slick leak out of you.

You yelped when she suddenly brought her face to your burning core, her nose touching your clit through your panties as she inhaled, taking in the sweet scent of your arousal. This probably should have made you embarrassed, but you pressed yourself a little closer to her, loving the way she seemed to need you as desperately as you needed her.

“You smell so fucking good, sweetheart. Been dreaming about this for so long.” She groaned, voice a bit raspier than before and you swore you felt the vibration of it in your entire body.

You weren’t sure how this was possible but your legs were already shaking a little bit.

Natasha took off your panties, savoring the way the fabric tried to clung to your wet core. At the same time, she took her own pants and underwear off and you physically clenched in anticipation. Natasha must have seen the hope lighting up your eyes because she chuckled softly.

“Not yet, baby.”

Her hands rubbed your lower stomach before getting down, purposely avoiding your pussy to affectionately squeeze at your inner thighs.

“Just let me get to know this pretty pussy first, yeah ?”

You simply nodded, suddenly feeling the need to obey her every word, please her with your submission. And your heart fluttered at the same time as your empty walls when she smiled, visibly appreciative of your sweet behavior. She leaned in, stealing a gentle kiss from your lips.

“That’s it, Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

“Yes,” you dumbly agreed, voice a bit shaky from the sheer intensity of your arousal.

Natasha squeezed your thighs affectionately, letting her nails trace the shape of your cunt, not even touching your folds, just the outside of it, making your legs twitch from the tickling sensation.

The long awaited first contact made you jolt just before making you moan out embarrassingly loud for such a fleeting touch. Both her thumbs were working your outer lips, gently rubbing the engorged tissues up and down. Natasha scooped up some of the slick that was profusely leaking out of you to bring it back up your core, slathering your pussy with it, she took a second to admire you.

“Your pussy is so pretty baby, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, fuck.”

You saw one of her hands briefly rub in between her legs, as if the sight of you was too much to bear and she desperately needed some relief from it.

“Sweetheart,” she spoke in a breath, “I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

She had a little feral tone in her voice that pushed you deeper into the pleasurable daze you seemed to be in ever since her lips first kissed yours. You watched, legs open wide and leaning on your elbows, mesmerized, as she lowered herself, her back arching so beautifully, pushing up her hips and ass in the air. It strangely felt like an out of body experience, seeing her face purposefully get so close to the most intimate part of you. It was like seeing her get down on her knees for someone else and before some weird disappointment could hit you about realizing this might be all a dream, the sensation of her mouth on your cunt brought you right back within yourself.

Wet warmth immediately engulfed you, pleasure throbbing in your veins, just underneath your skin. And she hadn’t even aimed for your clit, no, not at all. Natasha was busing making out with your shiny folds, kissing your outer and inner lips, licking in between them, and really you didn’t even know you had nerves endings in those places.

“Nat…” you mewled, “that’s so good, so so good…” you slurred out, already drunk on the few crumbs of pleasure she had given you.

Her tongue explored every inch of your pussy, except your aching clit, that she made a clear point to avoid. You had thought about complaining, whining, begging, but despite your swollen bud feeling neglected, everything just felt so good you didn’t want to take the risk of her stopping.

“Yeah ? You like having your pussy ate by someone who actually knows what they’re doing ?”

“Yes, yes I do, fuck… oh fuck Nat !”

Her tongue had moved to focus on your entrance, not breaching past, but just toying with the overly sensitive tissue that adorned your hole. She was tracing circles, or… were these stars ? Hearts…? Didn’t matter, it felt like being the canvas of the most skilled painter of all time.

“You taste like fucking heaven, baby.” She spoke, wet lips brushing against you with every word.

“Do I ?” You questioned, half delirious, not conscious of the words leaving out your mouth.

She only smirked, her assault on your entrance stoping. Perched on your elbow, the carnal look in her eyes made you clench around nothing.

Wordlessly, she leaned down again, flattened her tongue and licked from the bottom of your hole, through your folds and finally, finally, reached your clit. She licked the underside with a pressure that made you see stars and continued to cover the top of it, the force of her tongue ever so slightly pulling your hood back. Your head fell on your pillows, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out a sound you didn’t know you were capable of making.

Natasha’s lips locked around your clit, sucking on it.

“Yeah, you do.” She confirmed.

She returned to her ministrations. Sucking on your bundle of nerves, giving it kitten licks, very gently letting her teeth graze it… you couldn’t guess what was coming each time and it was driving you wild.

Both your hands found refuge in her jet black hair. Your hips began to move on their own accord, rutting against Natasha’s face.

“Yeah, that’s it, gorgeous. Ride my face, does that feel good ?”

You made an affirmative noise mixed with a desperate moan.

Panting heavier, you could feel the coil in your lower stomach getting tighter and tighter with each pass of her tongue on your clit.

“Yeah ? You need anything baby ?” She questioned, mouth coming off you for a few seconds.

You suddenly realised that you had been calling out her name over and over again, in a desperate need for her to know just how good she was being to you. You wanted to explain it to her, tell her every little thing you were feeling with articulate words, but all that came out was—

“Natasha…”

Yet another drawn out moan of her name. But Natasha seemed delighted, thrilled.

“Yeah I know, sweetheart, I know. Your little pussy is feeling so fucking good right now, isn’t she ?”

Panting heavier, your legs actually began to shake around her head, slowly trying to close in as Natasha kept them firmly wide open.

“Wait— oh fuck, Nat, Nat— fuck I think I’m gonna cum—“

“Such a good girl, just relax and let go for me.”

Standing dangerously close to the edge, every fiber in your body was preparing for the intense crash of hormones, but you pulled on her hair, trying to get her off you.

“Nat, please wait.” You managed through labored breath.

She immediately let up. Her brown, lust dilated eyes immediately filled with worry as she inspected you, looking for any sign of distress on you.

“Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay ?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, it’s just— well I was about to cum.”

Her eyebrows frowned ever so slightly in confusion.

“That… kinda was the goal, sweetheart.” She said in a light chuckle.

“But I wanna do the tribbing thing,” you tried to reason with her.

“I know you do,” she says, voice slipping back into that syrupy, gentle register, “we’re gonna do it after, baby.”

It was your turn to frown now, and it seemed to clicked into Natasha’s mind.

“Do…” she carefully started, “do you think that cumming right now means that it’s over ?”

Even though she tried to be as neutral as possible, you sensed from her tone that what you were implying was stupid.

Suddenly feeling embarrassed, you stuttered, “I mean, uh— yeah ? Cumming is like, the end.” You cleared your throat, “and I wanna feel that with you, while we— um trib ? Is that the word ?”

Natasha’s whole expression seemed to melt.

“Oh, baby,” she cooed, empathy dripping from her voice.

Leaning in, she planted a sweet kiss on your cheek, letting her lips linger on your skin.

“You are so fucking sweet. My gorgeous angel, an orgasm is not the end, you don’t have to stop at one. Sex is about feeling good, and as long as you want to keep feeling good, we can keep going as long as we want.”

Her words seemed to open some sort of floodgates within you.

“Really ?”

“Yeah, you know what’s amazing about our bodies ? We don’t have a refractory period, we basically can have as many orgasms as we want.”

The realization settled upon you, and a big smile made its way onto your face with no way to stop it. You practically lurched at her, capturing her lips with yours.

“Please make me come,” you pleaded, vibrating with anticipation.

Natasha smirked, “you’re unreal, sweetheart.”

But she obliged, her mouth returning to your aching clit. It didn’t take long for her to bring you back to the edge, her tongue apparently having learnt over such a short time what exact spots made you cry out louder.

“I want you to soak my face baby,” she rasped against your swollen folds.

The sound of her voice vibrating against you, the feeling of her hair on your skin, the relentless assault of her tongue on your clit and the knowledge that it was Natasha in between your legs making you see stars and that you’d keep seeing many more in the next few hours, the mix of everything made the coil in your stomach snap, more violently than you had ever felt before.

Your legs immediately closed around her head, caging her in. But Natasha wasn’t at all complaining.

She worked you through your high, as she glanced up to watch the beautiful visual you were offering her. Your back arched, tits pushing out towards the ceiling, head thrown back, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open on a soundless moan, as if the air was somehow trapped.

It felt like as if your ears got plugged for a moment, only able to register white noise as waves and waves of pleasure continued to roll through you, and you were completely, but very happily, helpless against it.

After what felt like a forever bliss, you slowly opened your eyes, feeling like your soul was progressively getting back into your body. Your breath was coming in short and shaky, but God did you feel at ease. You didn’t recall your mattress being this comfortable, you wanted to sink down in it and never, ever get up.

The gentle pass of hands on your thighs made you look up, eyes landing on Natasha, her lips wet from your arousal stretched out into a smile of pure adoration. It made your heart swell and your arousal start up again.

Cupping her face your brought her up to you, slamming your lips against yours and she let out a surprised laugh into the kiss.

“Nat, that was… fuck I actually have no words,” you marveled, licking your lips, tasting yourself on her, feeling like letting loose after such an intense climax, “that felt so fucking good, I came so hard.”

“Yeah, you did. Came all over my face like the good girl you are,” she praised, getting some hair away from your sticky forehead.

Letting out a little giggle out of sheer need, you felt yourself get even wetter because of the pet name.

“Are you still up to do the tribbing thing ?” She teasingly used your previous words.

“Fuck yes.” You caught her lips in another kiss, apparently unable to stay too long without kissing her, “rub your pussy on mine, I need it so bad.”

For a second you looked at each other, both startled by your sudden boldness. Before you had the time to cringe or become self conscious, Natasha’s pleased groan hit your ears.

“Lay back down, baby,” she cooed, one hand on your chest gently pushing you down, “I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

Your hands came up to squeeze her breasts passionately, trying to let her know how much you loved the way she talked to you. Opening up your legs wide enough for her hips to slide in, you waited in burning anticipation for the one thing you had spent way too much time fantasizing about for a so called ‘straight girl’.

Both of your gazes were fixed on each other’s core, watching Natasha oh so slowly close the distance and finally, finally putting her wet pussy on yours.

“Fuck,” you exhaled shakily, eyes trained to where you were connected.

The first thing you registered was warmth, overwhelming warmth coming from her core. It was wet, so wet that you didn’t even know which one of your slick was staining the sheets.

“This pussy is so ready for me, sweetheart, so fucking wet.” She rasped as her hips began to move, little back and forth that made her clit buck up against yours.

The friction was… heavenly. Unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure flowing through your veins was electric, and your eyes were desperate to roll to the back of your head but your determination to keep watching Natasha rut herself against your pussy was stronger.

The moans exiting her mouth were like the ones of an angel you thought, if heaven could make sound it would definitely be this one.

“Oh my god, Nat, your pussy feels so fucking good,” you cried out, reaching for her and intertwining your fingers together.

Her hips picked up the pace, the friction of your wet cores resonating loudly in your bedroom.

She had a faraway look in her lust blown eyes as her gaze oscillated between your face and the slight bounce of your boobs.

The way her engorged clit kept catching on yours was bringing you faster than ever before towards the edge, already sensitive from a first mind blowing orgasm.

“Sweetheart, do you know how long I have thought about this ?” She managed through a moan, still going steady on your dripping pussy, “everytime you came back from a shitty date, every time you peeked at my fucking boobs in the shower… fuck.”

Her hips stuttered as she seemed to rub a particularly sensitive spot of her clit with yours.

“Every single time I’ve thought about this, sweetheart. Hearing you moan my name so sweetly for me, finally show you,” she cursed lowly, sounding out of breath for a moment, “you’re not the perfectly straight girl you claim to be.”

Her whole rant was only fueling the pleasure boiling in your veins, it felt like losing your mind to the sweetest torture. You couldn’t respond with anything but a desperate moan. Firmly holding your hips down, she stopped her thrusting motion, switching for a circular one.

“Oh— oh fuck, keep doing that, that feels so good, oh my fucking god Nat !”

“I know,” she moaned back, “I know, I can feel your little clit getting all hard, baby, that’s so fucking hot.”

Your climax was approaching alarmingly fast, chest heaving violently as your whole body clenched in anticipation of the pleasure waves that would soon submerged you.

Her hips kept the same pace, same pressure, same motion that was making you lose your mind, and before you truly realised it, you didn’t just fell over the edge, you were thrown off of it.

Noises from all sort were falling out from your gaping mouth, hips twitching under Natasha’s.

She fucked you through it, never stopping her movements. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let it all out, fuck, that’s it… shit…”

It was like white noise rigging in your ears and Natasha’s voice was the only thing coming through. When the most intense waves slowly calmed after what felt like ages, the first thing you registered was the sped up movement of Natasha’s hips, then came her moans, almost pornograohic in their high pitched melody.

Realizing she was desperately chasing her own climax, your hands found her ass, helping her rut against you while the beginning of overstimulation was sweetly creeping up on you. She looked so good, and you could feel her pussy getting slicker and slicker on top of yours, the heat coming from her close to feverish.

Natasha looked almost vulnerable, so pretty on top of you, finally chasing her pleasure after bringing you to yours twice. Your hands squeezed the flesh of her ass as the sight in front of you gave a new found confidence to your words.

“Keep going, Nat. You’re doing so great, you look so fucking good,” you praised breathlessly, watching her face scrunch up in bliss at the sound of your voice, “use my pussy to make yourself cum, rub that pretty clit on me.”

“Keep talking, baby,” she begged, eyes scrunched up tight, only the feeling of your pussy and sweet voice registering into her pleasure drunk brain, “please keep talking, don’t stop.”

And who were you to deny her ?

“I’m not stopping, baby, I swear. Keep fucking me, wanna feel you cum on me, Nat, wanna feel you leak all over me.”

Those words seemed to detonate something inside of her, her hips twitched before stopping completely, rendered absolutely helpless by the white hot pleasure slamming into her body.

“Y/N, shit !” She moaned out so beautifully.

You helped her ride her high, your hands on her ass helping her hips move as her pussy was sporadically clenching around nothing, gushing out slick on your own puffy folds. The sight was one you wanted to imprint into your mind just in case it was your only chance of seeing it.

It was only when she came back down that her eyes opened up, immediately landing on yours, her lips quirking up in a small, dazed smile. Catching her breath, she quickly looked down at where your cores were still connected and she let out a low, appreciative sound at the slick mess in between the two of you.

“Baby,” she rasped, coming down to affectionately nudge your nose with hers, “that was so fucking good. God, I wish I had my strap, want to see you cream around my cock so bad.”

The visual she painted in your brain was nothing short of sinful and absolutely delicious, and you whimpered in tired enthusiasm.

Lying down on top of you, she buried her face into the crook of your neck, rubbing your sweat slicked skin affectionately with her nose.

“How are you feeling, baby ?”

“Good, so good,” you slurred, still dazed from the intensity of your orgasm.

She hummed into your skin, and for a moment you both laid there, engulfed in each other’s warmth, basking in the comfortable silence. Then, a thought popped into your head, one you absolutely couldn’t suppress anymore and needed to voice out to Natasha.

“Am I a lesbian ?”

Natasha bursted out laughing.

“Hey,” you half jokingly reprimanded her, “it’s a serious question !”

She calmed down, only slightly. “Sorry,” she managed through her fit of giggles, “sorry, didn’t mean to laugh, sweetheart, it just caught me off guard.”

“So,” you promoted again, “am I a lesbian ?”

Natasha lifted her head, her eyes catching yours, a fond smile replacing her chuckling and a tender look in her eyes.

“I mean, you’re definitely not straight,” she gently teased, stealing a quick kiss off you, “but I can’t tell you if you’re a lesbian, baby, that’s for you to figure out.”

You hummed, deep in thought.

“I mean, I do like men.” You stated, matter of factly, you’ve had bad experiences, yes, but it didn’t mean you were any less attracted to them, whether unfortunately or not.

“You sure do,” she chuckled, visibly remembering how you never hid the way you oggled at Jake when he took his shirt off at the beach. “And by the way,” she added, “you don’t need to figure it out tonight, you can leave the thinking and introspection for tomorrow, we can just cuddle and watch a movie.”

Her words filled you with warmth, and while her patience and reassurance were making your heart swell, they were also making more slick escape from in between your legs.

“And…” you began, a small smirk pulling at your lips, “maybe after some of those cuddles, you could… teach me how to eat you out ? That seems so fun I really want to taste you,” you said, earnest as if you had just had sex for the very first time, feeling like those feelings were entirely new to you.

And, in a sense, they were. Saying you had felt this strongly about any guy would be a terrible lie.

She hummed, “yeah, we can do that.” Her hips slowly began to grind back into yours, and you weren’t sure if she was entirely conscious of the movement.

“And then,” you trailed off, struggling to keep making sense as the pleasure fog was slowly clouding your brain again, meeting you like a new friend you couldn’t wait to get familiar with, “then we could do the tribbing thing again ? And I could fuck you this time.”

She quirked a playful eyebrow at you. “Mmh ? You wanna fuck me, huh ? Wanna have me cry out your name under you, sweet thing ?” Her hips picked up the pace, swollen and puffy clit catching on yours.

Moaning out, you wanted to toy with her a little bit, get her a bit riled up in the hope of getting fucked harder.

“Yeah, then I’ll be able to vouch for you to Jake.”

She frowned, pulled aback by the mention of her squad mate in such an intimate moment.

“What ?”

“You know, that lesbians really do fuck all night.”

She bursted out laughing again, the sound a blessing to your ears, kissing you in the middle of of her laugher fit as you mirrored her, both of your breaths mingling.

And that was when you realised that being with Natasha like that didn’t feel new. It felt exciting, that was for sure, but not in an unfamiliar way. Strangely, it felt like something you’d known all your life, and were just now allowing to finally fully exist. And it hit you as she smiled at you, eyes full of adoration.

It felt like coming home.

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Author’s note : guys I genuinely don’t know how to feel about this fic. Let me tell you the smut was supposed to be way longer than that, like it was supposed to keep going but I’ve been writing this fic for too long and I genuinely couldn’t do it anymore😭😭 I’ve been stuck on it for weeks and I just couldn’t stay forever on it, so sorry I hope it’s still okay

Also I know there isn’t a lot of Natasha fans so I don’t know who this will reach but whoever it might be, I hope it was alright !

Thank you guys for reading this absolute mess !💞

Letting it ring, he figures he’ll call back when he’s done getting settled into this place. She probably just wants to check in on how his transfer went anyhow. 

He’s just getting done tugging his sheets over the bed to regulation and snags his phone as he goes to lay down. He props his head on his arm, clicking to her voicemail as he mindlessly kicks off his boots. 

Call me back as soon as you get this. I want you to hear this from me before you hear it from anyone else. 

He frowns at the heaviness in her voice, shifting up as his fingers swipe over the screen to call her back. 

The phone rings only twice before it clicks, April’s normally warm voice desolate. 

“Hey Bradley.” 

He feels his frown grow, sitting up straighter. “April, are- are you okay? Have you been crying?” 

There’s a long, heavy pause. 

“Bradley,” Her tone is soft. Gentle. Gentle like how Mav had been when- “are you in a place to hear something bad?” 

His jaw works, throat suddenly dry. He can’t seem to swallow right. 

“How bad are we talking, April?” 

“I heard from Pete this morning.” 

Even though he’s sat down on his bed, feet firmly planted on the ground, it feels like everything begins to spin. 

He feels dizzy, floating almost, as April talks, softly, slowly. 

It’d happened a few days ago. 

They weren’t sure what had happened. 

Too much had been classified; too many people had conflicting accounts. 

They didn’t know what had happened to you. If it was an accident. If it was intentional. If it had happened in the air or on the ground.

All they knew- 

All they knew was that you were gone. 

A sickening, bitter taste of fifteen years worth of regret suddenly floods his body, making him feverish. 

It was not an invitation. 

But here he finds himself, standing on the dewy grass at the cemetery near his childhood home. 

Of course Mav chose here, where the sunlight filters through the trees in dazzling patterns and his parents lay buried together a few plots away. 

Pete’s arms wrap around him so tight it almost feels like for a minute he can breathe around his grief. His eyes burn, tucking his face into his godfather’s neck. 

There was a second of silence on the other end.

“Where are you?”, his voice sounded tense, he already knew something was wrong.

You gave him the address between the music and the laughter. You didn't have to explain much; Dean just let out a long sigh and said.

“Don't move from there. I'll be there in twenty”.

Twenty-five minutes later, the black Impala pulled up in front of the house with a deep roar. You descended the porch steps as quickly as your balance would allow. Dean was already out of the car, leaning against the driver's door with his arms crossed and that expression that promised a storm.

He opened the passenger door without saying a word. You got in, and the familiar smell of leather, oil, and his cologne enveloped you instantly. As soon as he closed the door, Dean walked around the car and sat in the driver's seat.

Neither of you spoke for the first few minutes. All you could hear was the purr of the Impala and the sound of the tires on the asphalt.

Until Dean broke the silence.

“Seriously?”, his voice was low, but loaded with anger. “A drunk party on a Tuesday? You?”.

You glanced at him sideways. His jaw was tense and his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

“Your dad is going to kill you if he finds out”, he continued, not giving you a chance to respond. “And with good reason. What the hell were you thinking?”.

He turned his head for a second to look at you, his green eyes shining with a mix of concern and annoyance.

“Anything could have happened in there. Anything. Do you know how hard it was for me not to tell your dad?”.

The car filled with a heavy silence. Dean looked back at the road, but his voice lowered a bit, hoarser.

“Tell me you at least didn't leave with anyone.”.

You looked at him directly, your heart beating hard from the alcohol and something much more dangerous.

“I almost did”, you said, almost in a whisper, but clear enough. “There was a guy… handsome, persistent. I was about to leave with him”.

Dean didn't say anything right away. His hands tightened more on the wheel, but his expression remained almost neutral. Only a slight tic in his jaw gave him away.

“That was stupid”, he continued, his voice deeper than usual. “That kind of parties are full of idiots who are only looking for one thing. They could have drugged you, taken you by force… It's not a game, princess”.

The affectionate nickname he always used with you sounded different this time. Hoarser.

You weren't planning to stay quiet. The heat from the alcohol and the built-up tension gave you courage. You slowly slid your hand across the seat until you brushed his right thigh. Dean visibly tensed, but he didn't move his leg away.

“I'm sorry…”, you murmured, not sounding sorry at all. Your fingers went up a little more, feeling the hard muscle under the jeans. “Really, Dean. I didn't want you to get mad. I just… wanted you to come”.

He let out a long, heavy sigh, glancing briefly at your hand on his leg before looking back at the road.

“You're playing with fire”, he warned, though his voice no longer sounded as firm as before.

Your hand didn't stop. You moved it up a little more, caressing the inside of his thigh with deliberate slowness, feeling how his breathing changed.

“Maybe I want to burn”, you replied softly, looking him in the eyes when he turned his head again.

The silence that fell between you was dense, loaded with everything neither of you had ever said.

“Dean…”, you said in a soft, almost sweet voice, while your hand continued to caress his thigh. “Let me make it up to you. For not telling my dad and for coming to get me”.

He shook his head, staring fixedly at the road.

“No. I'm going to drop you off at your house and we're not going to talk about this again. End of discussion”.

But you weren't going to give up that easily. With your pulse racing, your fingers moved up to his belt. You started playing with the buckle, pulling it slowly, teasing him.

Dean went rigid.

“Hey…”, he warned, but his voice was already hoarser.

You didn't stop. You unbuckled the belt with skillful fingers and lowered the zipper with deliberate slowness. You felt how his breathing became heavier.

Suddenly, Dean swerved and stopped the car abruptly on the side of the road, in a dark and deserted stretch surrounded by trees. The engine was still running, but the lights were off, only the dim dashboard light illuminating the interior.

“Stop”, he ordered, grabbing your wrist firmly, though not hard enough to pull you away completely. “You have to stop now”.

You looked him straight in the eyes, not withdrawing your hand. Instead, your fingers intentionally brushed the bulge that was already visible under his jeans.

“Don't you want to?”, you asked in a low voice, almost innocent.

Dean let out a low growl, closing his eyes for a second.

“It's not that”, he said through gritted teeth. “Of course I want to, damn it, but it's wrong. You're Bobby's daughter. If he finds out…”.

“He won't find out”, you whispered, leaning closer to him. “Afterwards we'll forget about everything. Just… let me make it up to you”, 

The silence stretched between you. You could see the internal war on his face: guilt, desire, loyalty to your father clashing violently against what he really wanted.

Finally, Dean released your wrist. His hand fell onto the seat, surrendering.

“Fuck…”, he murmured, leaning back a little against the seat. “Do whatever you want”.

A victorious smile appeared on your lips upon hearing his words. Dean Winchester, the man who always seemed untouchable, had just surrendered to you. Without wasting another second, you leaned over him, lowering your head to his lap.

You freed him from his boxers and paused for a moment to look at him. He was bigger and thicker than you had imagined. For a second you felt a slight nervousness, but the excitement was much stronger. You wrapped your hand around him, feeling his heat and how hard he was, and started stroking him slowly up and down.

Dean let out a low growl, one hand resting on your hair, not pushing, just holding you.

You lowered your head and ran your tongue along his entire length, from base to tip, savoring him. Then you took him into your mouth, little by little, feeling how he filled you. It was an intense sensation, but you continued, moving your head with a slow rhythm at first.

“Am I doing it right?”, you asked in a whisper, pulling away for barely a second, with shiny lips.

“Fuck, yes…”, Dean responded in a hoarse voice, breathing with difficulty. “You're doing it too well, princess”.

His words filled you with confidence and excitement. You smiled around him and continued with more enthusiasm, going deeper, using your hand on the part you couldn't reach with your mouth. Your movements became faster, wetter. The obscene sounds you made filled the inside of the car along with Dean's deep growls.

He tightened his fingers in your hair, but never forced you. He just accompanied you, murmuring between his teeth.

“Like that… shit, just like that…”.

You felt powerful. Every time he moaned or cursed under his breath, you continued with more enthusiasm, sucking and licking with devotion. His hips began to move slightly upward, seeking more friction.

It didn't take long. His breathing became ragged and his hand closed tighter in your hair.

“I'm going to…”, he tried to warn you.

You didn't pull away. You kept him in your mouth as he came with a long, hoarse moan, feeling him spill down your throat. You swallowed everything, without stopping to look at him.

When you finished, you slowly sat up, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. Dean looked at you with half-closed eyes, still catching his breath. His expression was a mix of pleasure, surprise, and something deeper.

“You're the most beautiful thing I've seen in my fucking life…”, he murmured, almost with reverence.

You didn't give him time to say more. You moved closer and kissed him, Dean responded instantly, one large hand holding the back of your neck while his mouth devoured yours hungrily.

Without separating from your lips, Dean grabbed you by the waist and easily sat you on his lap. The steering wheel pressed a little against your back, but you didn't care. You laughed softly against his mouth.

“This doesn't have to be known by my dad either…”, you whispered, biting his lower lip.

Dean let out a low, hoarse laugh, his hands lowering to your hips, pressing you against him.

“Definitely not”, he replied, kissing you again, slower this time.

You settled better on him, feeling how his body was still hot and sensitive beneath you. His hands moved up your back, slipping under your shirt, caressing your skin with calloused fingers while you continued kissing.

“Dean… can we go further?”, you whispered against his mouth.

He stayed still for a second, his hands still on your hips. His green gaze darkened.

“Are you sure?”, he asked in a deep voice. “I don't have anything here to take care of you, princess. No condom or anything”.

“I don't care”, you responded without hesitation, rubbing slowly against him. “I want to feel you. Everything. Nothing between us”.

Dean let out a shaky sigh, clearly fighting his own desire.

“Fuck… you're killing me”, he murmured. Still, he pressed you tighter against him. “If at any moment you want to stop, just say so”.

You nodded and settled better on his legs. You lowered a hand between you, guiding him toward your entrance. You were very wet, but you still felt the pressure as his thick head started to open you.

“It's… big”, you gasped, biting your lip.

“Relax”, Dean whispered against your neck, kissing you softly while one of his hands lowered to caress your clit to help you. “Breathe. You're made for me… you're going to take it all”. 

Little by little, inch by inch, you sank down onto him. The sensation was intense, almost overwhelming. You felt how he stretched you inside, filling you completely. When you were finally fully seated, with him buried to the hilt, you let out a long, trembling moan.

You smiled, resting your forehead against his.

“I've waited so long for this…”, you confessed in a low voice.

Dean smiled, that crooked, sexy smile you loved so much, and kissed you hard.

“Me too, baby… even though I shouldn't admit it”.

He started moving you with his hands on your hips, guiding the rhythm. You went up and down slowly at first, getting used to his size. Every time you lowered, you felt how he filled you completely, brushing that sensitive spot inside you. Soon you started moving on your own, faster, deeper.

“Like that… good girl”, Dean growled, biting your neck.

The heat inside the car was suffocating. Without stopping riding him, you took off your shirt over your head and threw it to the back seat. Dean helped you unhook your bra, freeing your breasts. His large hands covered them instantly, squeezing them, pinching your nipples while you continued riding him harder.

Completely naked on top of him, with your skin shining with sweat, you felt exposed, vulnerable, and terribly aroused. Dean couldn't stop looking at you.

“You're fucking perfect…”, he murmured.

The pleasure grew quickly, each deep thrust making you moan louder.

You started practically crying out his name, your voice broken by the pleasure.

“Dean… Dean!”, you moaned over and over, almost sobbing as you moved desperately on him.

He hugged you against his chest, one hand on your back and the other on your hip, thrusting into you with strength and precision. The sound of skin against skin, your moans and his deep growls filled the entire car.

“Like that, princess… let me hear you”, he whispered in your ear, picking up the pace.

The rhythm became wilder. Dean held your hips firmly, thrusting up from below while you moved on top of him desperately. Sweat pearled your naked skin and steam fogged up the Impala's windows. Every time you lowered, he thrust up hard, hitting deep inside you.

You were close, very close.

Dean was too. His breathing was ragged, his muscles tense, and his grip on your waist increasingly firm.

“Princess… I'm going to pull out”, he growled, trying to control himself.

“No”, you gasped, pressing tighter against him, moving faster. “Don't pull out. I want to feel all of you”.

“Fuck, it's risky…”, he tried to reason, though his voice sounded broken by pleasure. “We're not being careful”.

“I don't care”, you moaned against his neck, biting him softly. “I want you to cum inside. Please, Dean…”.

He let out a deep growl, almost defeated, and hugged you tighter. He no longer tried to pull out. Instead, he started fucking you with more intensity, as if he could no longer contain himself.

Pleasure hit you like a wave. You came hard, screaming his name as your inner walls squeezed him rhythmically. Dean followed just a few seconds later. With a long, hoarse moan, he buried himself to the hilt and came inside you, filling you with pulsing heat.

He kept moving slowly, prolonging both of your orgasms until you both trembled.

When you finally stopped, you stayed on top of him, completely naked, with your head resting on his shoulder and his member still inside you. His arms wrapped around you tightly, one hand slowly caressing your back as you both tried to catch your breath.

Neither of you spoke for a long minute. All you could hear was heavy breathing and the Impala's engine still running.

Finally, you lifted your head and looked him in the eyes.

“I don't want this to be the last time…”, you whispered, almost afraid of his response.

Dean watched you in silence for a moment, then smiled softly, a tired but sincere smile, and brushed a damp strand of hair from your face.

“It's not going to be the last time”, he responded in a hoarse voice, kissing you tenderly on the lips. “Not after this”.

He kissed you again, slower, deeper, as if sealing a silent promise.

After a few more minutes hugging each other, catching your breath and sharing lazy kisses, Dean gave you a soft pat on the ass.

“Come on, princess. We have to get you fixed up before someone sees you like this”.

He helped you put your clothes back on between low laughs and stolen kisses. You dressed quickly, though your legs were still trembling a bit. Dean adjusted his jeans and belt, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He looked at you sideways with a smile.

“You're a mess”, he murmured, but his tone was affectionate.

“Your fault”, you replied, leaning in to kiss him once more.

The rest of the drive to your house passed in comfortable silence. Dean drove with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh, gently caressing it with his thumb. Every now and then he looked at you and smiled, as if he still couldn't believe what had just happened.

When the car stopped in front of your house, he turned off the engine and turned toward you.

“See you tomorrow”, he said in a low voice. “Your parents invited me to dinner”.

You smiled, moved closer, and gave him a slow, deep kiss, holding his face with both hands.

“I can't wait”, you whispered against his lips.

Dean returned the kiss with the same intensity, as if he wanted to memorize your taste. When you finally separated, you got out of the car and closed the door carefully.

“so quiet tonight,” you murmur, dragging your nails lightly down his chest. you lift up until just the tip catches at your entrance, then sink back down torturously slow. his hips jerk once. a tiny, strangled breath escapes him but he catches it fast.

you smile, soft and mean. then, you lean forward so your breasts brush his chest, lips near his ear. “you know i love hearing you. why do you make me work for it, dee?”

dean swallows hard. his cock twitches inside you but he doesn’t answer.

you grind down, clit rubbing against him with every circle of your hips. his breathing gets ragged. you feel every inch of him, hot and perfect, stretching you open. still, he stays mostly quiet. just those tiny hitched breaths he can’t quite hide.

“tell you what,” you whisper, nipping at his earlobe. “make one little sound for me… just a moan… and after i’m done riding you, you can bury that pretty face between my legs. let eat me out until i come on your tongue. you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

his eyes flutter. lips part. a soft, broken whimper slips out before he can stop it.

“good boy,” you praise, voice sweet as you pick up the pace. long, rolling thrusts that take him deep every time.

the wet slap of skin fills the room. dean’s head tips back, exposing the line of his throat, and another low sound escapes him. half moan, half whine.

you sit up straighter, hands braced on his chest, and really ride him. bouncing on his cock, thighs burning, breasts moving with every drop. his hands finally fly to your hips, gripping hard but not controlling. just holding on.

“louder,” you demand, slowing again just to torture him. “let me hear how bad you need it, dean.”

he whines then, high and needy, hips bucking up to chase you. “please—fuck, swwetheart, i need—i’ll be so good, just let me taste you after—”

you reward him by riding him harder, faster, grinding down on every thrust so your clit catches just right. dean’s moans turn constant. rough. desperate. filling the cheap motel room like music. his thighs tremble under you. he’s so close you can feel it, cock swelling inside you.

you reach over to the nightstand and grab the slim pink vibrator. dean’s eyes widen, pupils blown black.

“you’ve been so good,” you tell him, voice breathy as you keep riding him slow and deep. “now you get to watch.”

you click the toy on and press it to your clit while still moving on his cock. the vibration hits instantly, sharp and perfect. your head falls back, a moan spilling from your own lips. dean’s eyes locks on the sight.

“fuck—look at you,” he pants, voice cracking. “so fucking hot. please, baby, let me see you come like that.”

you circle the toy faster, riding him in shallow rolls that keep him buried deep. the dual sensation of his thick cock stretching you with the buzzing against your clit makes it build fast. your thighs shake. dean’s hands tighten on your hips, thumbs pressing bruises you’ll feel tomorrow.

“gonna come,” you gasp. “watch me, dee. don’t look away.”

he doesn’t. his eyes stay glued to where the toy meets your clit, to the way your pussy grips his cock on every stroke. the sight pushes you over. you come hard, clenching around him, crying out as pleasure crashes through you in waves.

dean groans loud, hips stuttering like he’s fighting not to follow.

you ride it out, then click the toy off and toss it aside. your body’s still pulsing when you lift off him, legs shaky. dean makes a desperate sound at the loss.

“please,” he begs, voice hoarse. “let me—i need to taste you. please.”

you crawl up his body and settle over his face, thighs bracketing his head. “you earned it, baby. make me come again.”

dean doesn’t hesitate. his hands grab your ass, pulling you down onto his mouth. his tongue dives in immediately, licking through your soaked folds, groaning at the taste of your release mixed with his. he eats you like a man starved, sucking your clit, fucking his tongue inside you, moaning loud and shameless against your pussy.

you grip the headboard, rolling your hips against his face. “that’s it. just like that.”

he whimpers into you, the vibration making your eyes roll back. one hand leaves your ass to stroke his own cock, desperate and leaking. you watch him fist himself while he devours you, the sight so filthy it sends fresh heat curling in your belly.

“gonna come again just from your mouth,” you pant.

dean doubles down, sucking hard on your clit. you shatter for the second time, thighs clamping around his head as you grind through it, soaking his face. he keeps licking you through every pulse, moaning like he’s the one coming.

when you finally slide off, legs trembling, dean looks utterly ruined. lips swollen, chin shiny, eyes hazy with need. his cock is still hard, flushed dark, leaking steadily.

you lean down and kiss him slow, tasting yourself on his tongue. “you were so good for me,” you whisper against his mouth.

dean shudders, pulling you close. his voice is wrecked when he answers. “again?” he asks, already half-hard again against your thigh. “please?”

you smile, fingers threading through his hair, and let the ache settle warm between you both.

You’d been dating Bradley for seven amazing months. You’d met just after Thanksgiving at The Hard Deck when you were out with friends. The two of you had spent the entire night locked in conversation and lost in one another, oblivious to the rest of the bar… friends included. He’d asked you out at the end of the night and you’d been together ever since (to the surprise of no one). 

Bradley’s birthday was coming up on Saturday and you were determined to make it extra special for him. You’d been talking with Nix, trying to come up with a plan on what to do for him. 

“I don’t know that he’s going to want a party, Nix.” You said as the two of you brainstormed over coffee, “He’s been in a weird mood lately… just kind of quieter.”

“Oh shit.” Nix said, sighing, “Have the two of you talked much about his parents since you started dating? Has he opened up to you?” Her voice was gentle. You could tell she was treading lightly, balancing loyalty to Bradley but also trying to be a good friend to you and to be helpful. 

“We’ve talked.” You said, “He’s talked about how his dad died… and growing up with just his mom, how the loss impacted his childhood and his mom, how close he was to his mom… how much her death hit him. He’s talked about things with Mav… am I missing something, Nix?”

“His dad died a month after his 2nd birthday …” Nix said softly. “And… his mom died a week after he turned 17.”

“So he’s probably quieter and pulling in… because the anniversaries of his parents' deaths are on the heels of his birthday…” You replied, “Shit.” 

“Yeah.” Nix sighed, “It’s been awhile since we’ve been together on his birthday. Last year he randomly took off out East for a week, came back just in time for the 4th of July cookout at Penny and Mav’s. He was still a little quiet the rest of the month but we didn’t push.”

“What if… we just do drinks at The Hard Deck on Friday… really informal, low key.” You said, “Then Saturday I’ll plan on just pampering him. Breakfast in bed… a day of just watching movies or going for a drive up the coast… whatever he wants. I can make him dinner that night and a cake…”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Nix said, a soft smile playing on her face, “It might help pull him out of his head too. Any ideas on what you’re going to get him as a gift?”

“That part was actually kinda easy.” You said, smiling. “He’s mentioned so many times over the last few months about wanting a dog. The man really wants a dog… every time we’re on the beach, or out walking, or anywhere and he sees a dog, he’s an instant puddle of mush and makes a beeline for the dog.”

“Well, now that he’s moved you in with him, getting a dog would be the next logical step.” She teased, “I know he’s wanted one forever… when he was single and living alone it wasn’t an option since there would have been nobody to care for the dog while he was deployed.”

“Exactly!” You said, “I’m not going anywhere… I love that man more than anything, and have since day one. So… he’s getting a dog!”

“Are you going to just bring a dog home?” She asked, looking amused. 

“No.” You said, laughing, “I’m going to blindfold him and take him to the Humane Society then when we get there, take off the blindfold and tell him we’re adopting a furbaby.”

“You’re really good for him.” Nix said, smiling softly, “He’s lucky to have you. Leave Friday to me and the boys…. And if you need anything for Saturday, let me know.”

“Thanks, Nix.” You smiled back, “That means the world. I am the lucky one. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I bet if you talk to Mav he’d arrange for Bradley to have Monday off.” Nix suggested, “Might be better if you just make a long weekend of it.”

“I’ll call him and see what he says.” You replied, “Bradley hasn’t brought it up so I don’t want to overstep.” 

“I don’t think he’ll see it like that.” She said, “Honestly, I think he’ll see it as just the opposite… trust me.”

The next day when Bradley got home from base he looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. You didn’t push, just wrapped your arms around him and held him tight when he melted into you. 

“How about you get changed and I’ll order us some pizza and we can snuggle on the couch tonight.” You suggested, “Sound good?”

“That sounds perfect, Angel.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head, “I’ll be right back down.”

“Take as much time as you need, Baby.” You said softly, your eyes meeting his, “I’ll be right here when you come down.”

He leaned down and pressed a slow, tender kiss to your lips, before pulling back just slightly. 

“I love you.” He said, his voice raspy

“Love you more.” You whispered back. 

He reluctantly pulled away and went upstairs to go change out of his uniform. You grabbed your phone and placed an order for a pepperoni pizza from the place down the road that he loved, knowing it would get here relatively quickly, (in terms of delivery at least).  You made sure to order extra breadsticks with dipping sauce and some Dr. Pepper soda for him. You weren’t sure if he’d want soda or beer but you didn’t have any of his favorite soda in the fridge so you were covering your bases. You made a note to hit the grocery store tomorrow. 

The shower turned on and you smiled, happy he was taking time to relax a little. You lit some of the soothing scented candles around the living room, then sat on the couch and scrolled through the available dogs at the humane society while you waited. There was one there that caught your eye that you knew Bradley would absolutely fall in love with. You’d already bookmarked him. He was a two year old Golden Retriever with big soulful brown eyes. He was described as a little shy at first but a lovebug who loved to play just as much as he loved snuggles. The name of the dog is what drew you in at first. It seemed like fate. You just weren’t sure how Bradley would feel about it. His name was “Goose”. You took a screencap of the photo and description and sent it to Mav Penny to show Mav and get their opinion. You would have sent it to Mav but he had yet to join the modern era with technology and wasn’t exactly savvy with his phone. 

The pizza arrived right as Bradley was coming down the stairs. You signed a credit card slip and took the food, along with the cold Dr. Pepper, thanking the delivery driver. 

“Got all of your favorites, Handsome.” You smiled over at him, your heart skipping at the sight of him in a pair of sweats and an old worn Grateful Dead T-shirt. His hair was still damp and his curls were more defined. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” he smiled, coming over. 

“Sit down on the couch, Baby.” You said, kissing him softly. “Do you want beer or Dr. Pepper with your pizza?”

“Dr. Pepper, Angel.” He replied, stealing another kiss before sitting down on the couch. 

You smiled before grabbing the box of pizza, breadsticks, and the soda and bringing it to the coffee table in front of him. 

“It smells amazing,” he said, sitting forward to grab a slice. “Thank you.”

You sat next to him, reaching for a slice of pizza of your own, “You don’t have to thank me, Bradley.” You replied, smiling gently at him, “I love you, getting pizza and Dr. Pepper for you after a rough day is just the bare minimum.” 

“It’s a lot more than that, Angel.” He said, looking over at you, his eyes always conveying the depth of his love for you. “You have no idea everything you do for me… everything you’ve given me since you walked into my life.”

“I think it’s mutual, B.” You smiled softly, your heart swelling with the amount of love you had for this man. “You’ve given me just as much… if not more. Besides, you make it really easy to love you.” 

The two of you ate in a comfortable silence. Bradley lost in thought, probably working through his day. You gave him the space to do so, while remaining physically present if he needed you. 

“Nix wants everyone to get together on Friday night for my birthday.” He said quietly a little while later. You looked over at him to try to gauge his feelings on the matter.

“Ok.” You smiled softly, “We can do that. Celebrate my amazing boyfriend.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” He shrugged, giving you a small smile, “Just another day. She said I’m not allowed to run off this year… that I have to at least come for a drink with everyone.”

“Ok, first of all.” You said, turning so your whole body was facing him now, “The day you were born is very MUCH a big deal, and should be celebrated accordingly. You matter to so many people, Baby. You matter to ME most of all. Secondly… I think your friends just want to show their love and support. If you’re up for it… we can go  and if you want to leave after a couple of drinks I will absolutely get you out of there.”

“I love you, Angel.” He replied, his voice raspy. You pulled him into your arms, holding him tight. 

“I love you too, Handsome.” You said softly, kissing his forehead. “I know you’ve been quieter this past week… things weighing you down. How about you put in for a leave day on Monday and we have a long weekend at home… just us. We’ll shut out the world and reset.”

“That sounds like the perfect way to spend my birthday, Angel.” He smiled gently, his eyes soft. “I’ll put in for the day tomorrow morning when I get to base. Just when I think there’s no possible way I could love you any more… that my heart will absolutely explode… you go and prove me wrong.”

You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him. “You have done so much for me…made my whole world brighter since I met you and we started dating. It’s my turn to take care of you.”

Without warning he scooped you up and carried you towards the stairs, you squealed, holding on tightly, laughing giddily as he started to pepper your face and neck with kisses. He kicked the door to your shared bedroom closed, tossing you onto the bed and following you down. The pizza and breadsticks would need to get put up much…much later. 

******

By Friday, you could tell Bradley was ready to close in for the weekend with just the two of you, and was regretting agreeing to drinks at The Hard Deck. He got home after work, still in his flight suit and dropped his bag by the door. After tossing his keys into the bowl on the side table and taking his boots off he collapsed down onto the couch, his head falling back onto the back to cushion. 

“That was quite the sigh, Handsome.” You said, coming over to stand behind the couch. Leaning over, you kiss his forehead, brushing some of his hair back. “Rough day, Baby?”

“Long.” He whispered, “Nothing seemed to want to go right… and I’m just… tapped out.”

“Want me to work some of the knots from your shoulders?” You asked softly.

“Not right now.” He whispered, “Take a shower and cuddle with me?”

“Come on, Handsome.” You said, “We’ve got time… shower and snuggles coming up.”

“Do we have to go tonight?” He asked, sighing as he got up and followed you up the stairs.

“At least for one drink, Baby.” You said, leading him into the bedroom. “Then… if you still wanna come home, we will.”

“I will.” He said, stubbornly. “Just want to sit on the couch with my girl and watch cheesy movies while we snuggle.” 

“We can do that all weekend, Handsome.” You smiled lovingly up at him, “Now, strip down and get in the shower.”

“Aren’t you coming in with me?” He pouted, giving you puppy eyes. 

“Yes, Baby,” You laughed, shaking your head, “I’m right behind you.”

After showering you got out and dried off, before you could get dressed, however, Bradley tugged you towards the bed, bundling you both under the covers and tucking you close. You smiled, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face against his chest, breathing in his scent. 

“This is much better.” He said, his voice sounding more relaxed. His body was less tense as well. “Just needed to hold you.”

“Happy to help.” You replied quietly, tenderly kissing his chest. “We can’t fall asleep though… Nix will kill us.”

“You’re not wrong.” He chuckled. It was good to hear it after the last week. “Fine. We go for a drink… two tops. Then back home to start my birthday weekend of nonstop cuddles with my favorite girl.”

***

Two drinks ended up turning into a few more than that. Bradley was currently engulfed in his third game (battle) of pool against Nix. You smiled, enjoying seeing him finally relaxed and more like himself again. You hopped off the chair you’d been on and made your way to the bar to grab him another beer and another soda for yourself. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.” Penny smiled, “Another round?” 

“Yup.” You said, smiling back, “Probably gonna switch him to water after this so he’s not miserable tomorrow, but it’s just good to see him having fun.”

“Pete said he’s been a little off this week.” She replied, giving you a sympathetic look, “He’ll perk back up. It’s just tough on him. I do think that Golden Retriever is perfect for him… is he still available?”

“He is.” You said, “I started the application, just in case, but… I want to give Bradley the ultimate end choice.”

“That makes sense.” She smiled softly, sliding the drinks across to you, “But even if you just adopt him and change his name… he would still be perfect.”

“I’ll make sure to mention that.” You said. “Thanks, Penny.”

“Anytime.” She winked, “Let us know if you need anything this weekend, or anytime.”

“Will do.” You said, picking up the drinks and then making your way back over to the group. 

You walked to the pool table where the game had just wrapped up…again. Bradley was smiling proudly so he must have won this time.

“Did you finally beat her?” You asked, handing your boyfriend his beer. 

“Yup.” He said proudly, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the temperature of the bar. 

“Congratulations, Baby.” You laughed, lifting on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. “I'm proud of you.”

He pulled you into his arms, kissing the top of your head. You both move to sit with the squad. Bradley immediately pulled you close so you were tucked into him, his arm wrapped around you. 

“Alright, here’s to our boy, Rooster and another lap around the sun.” Jake said, raising his beer. “Happy Birthday, Man.”

“Happy Birthday!” The rest of the squad chimed in, raising their drinks. 

You kissed his cheek, smiling “Happy birthday, Handsome.”

“Thank you,” He said, a flush rising to his cheeks, “You’re all the best… thanks for making me come out tonight. I needed this.”

“It’s what we’re here for, Bradshaw.” Nix said, smiling. “When you let us rather than pissing off to the unknown.”

“Fair.” He chuckled, “I think those days are done.” He looked over at you, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“Yes they are.” You agreed, smiling over at him. 

A slower song comes on the jukebox, Bradley smiles, slides out of the booth and grabs your hand.

“Come on, Angel.” He said, “Dance with me.”

“Ok.” You laughed softly, “Guess The Hard Deck now has a dance floor.” 

“Penny just humors us.” He smirked, pulling you into his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling up at him.

“I love you, Bradley.” You said, laying your head on his chest.

“Love you too, Angel.” He replied, kissing the top of your head. 

*****

The next morning you let Bradley sleep in while you went down and made him homemade waffles. You also got a chocolate cake into the oven, using a recipe from a book Mav had found and given to you the other day. He said it had been Carole’s and that there would be notes. He was right. She’d made notes on all of Bradley’s favorites and then any modifications she made. You were making him lasagna for dinner. She had labeled it as ‘Bradley’s birthday favorite’. 

With the cake in the oven, you plated a waffle (putting a candle on it) and some bacon and grabbed a glass of orange juice and took it upstairs to Bradley. 

You set the glass of orange juice on the bedside stand next to him and then sat down on the edge of the bed and slid your hand not holding the plate into your pocket where you’d stashed the lighter you kept for candles and lit the candle on the waffle. 

“Morning sleepy head.” You said softly, so as not to startle him awake. “Rise and shine, my handsome birthday boy.”

He stirred, his eyes blinking open groggily, a soft smile appearing on his face. 

“Happy Birthday to you… happy birthday to you… happy biiirrrthday dear Bradley… happy birthday to you.” You sang carefully leaning forward to kiss him, making sure not to set your hair on fire. “Make a wish, Handsome.”

“I got everything I want already.” He said, his voice raspy from sleep. He smiled, sitting up, his eyes met yours in a soft love filled gaze before he gently blew out the candle. 

“Did you make a wish?” You asked, handing him the plate so he could eat. 

“Sure did.” He answered. “This is incredible, Angel. Thank you.”

“Just the start, Baby.” You smiled. “You’re getting an entire day of being spoiled.”

“Does this spoiling involve birthday sex?” He asked, taking a bite of bacon and smirking at you.

“Eat your breakfast and we’ll negotiate.” You laughed. “I have your cake in the oven though so no funny business until it’s safely out of the oven, Mister.”

“You’re baking me a cake?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his brown eyes meeting yours, surprise and something more registering in his expression. 

“Of course I am,” You replied smiling gently, “It’s your birthday… you need a birthday cake.”

“I haven’t had one of those in a really long time.” He admitted.

“Well I’m happy to bake you one then, Baby.” You smiled, leaning in to kiss him. “Finish eating while I go check the cake. I’ll be right back.”

****

Later that morning, while Bradley was in the shower… after a couple of rounds of birthday sex… you went down to the kitchen to ice his chocolate layer cake before moving to get the present you had for him and setting it on the coffee table. You’d found a Grateful Dead Hawaiian shirt online and ordered it for him. To be safe, you’d had it sent to Nix’s apartment. She’d put it in your car last night at The Hard Deck without Bradley knowing. You’d also decided to go ahead and fill out the application for Goose. You printed it and put it in a box with a collar, leash, and a rooster dog toy then wrapped it up. 

“Angel… that cake smells… so good.” Bradley said coming down the stairs. “It reminds me of my birthdays when my mom would bake me cakes.”

“Funny you should say that.” You smiled, moving over to him and wrapping your arms around his waist, “Mav found a recipe book… and brought it over. He said it was your mom’s. She was very thorough and labeled everything…with notes.”

“Mav brought my mom’s cookbook?” he asked, a soft smile forming on his lips, “So… that’s my mom’s chocolate cake I’m smelling?”

“Yes, Baby.” You replied, taking his hand and pulling him to the kitchen, “And… for dinner I planned to make the one Lasagna labeled, ‘Bradley’s Birthday Favorite’.” 

“I love you.” You whispered, pulling you in tight, his voice choked by tears. “Thank you, Angel. You have no idea what this means to me.” 

“I love you too” You replied, holding him back just as tightly, your hands rubbing over his back. “I’m hoping I can do her recipes justice… give you back a small piece of her.” 

“Just the fact that you’re even going through all of this effort and trying means the absolute world to me.” He whispered.

“The cookbook has a bunch of her writing in it… wanna look at it?” You asked, pulling back just enough to look up at him, his eyes were red rimmed and watery. 

“Yeah.” He smiled, nodding as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, “I’d love that.”

You walk him over to the counter and hand him the recipe book. He reaches for the book, running his hand over it reverently. His eyes well up again as he opens the cover and sees a bunch of notes his mom had written on the front cover. 

You don’t say anything, just rub his back gently while he flips through the pages. 

“This… is….” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts, or emotions… you just give him time. “It’s like you said… it gives me a piece of my mom back.”

“We can cook as many of those recipes as you want, whenever you want.” You said gently, “We can invite Mav over if you want too… or just work our way through the book and you can add bookmarks to whatever you like and we’ll make those dishes often.”

He set the book gently on the counter and once again wrapped you into a tight embrace. 

“You are everything to me, Angel.” He whispered, burying his face into your hair.

“You are my whole world, B. My person… the absolute love of my life.” You replied, pressing a soft kiss to his chest over his heart. 

The two of you stood there in the kitchen, holding one another for several moments before you gently pulled back to look up at him, smiling. 

“Come with me…” You instructed, sliding your hand into his and leading him towards the living room, “I’ve got presents for you.”

“Beautiful, you’ve already given me literally everything.” He chuckled, following you. 

“Sit down.” You said, gently pushed him onto the couch, smiling when he looked at you with a bemused look. You went to the table and grabbed the two gifts, bringing them over and sitting next to him on the couch. You handed him the one with the shirt first. 

He took the box, smiling over at you. He shakes the box, making you laugh, before he tears off the paper and lifts the lid. 

“Holy shit!” He laughed as he pulls it from the box, “Angel this is absolutely fucking perfect! Where did you even find something like this?”

“The internet is an amazing tool.” You replied, smiling back at him. “There’s a huge selection of them too, so… if you want more we can order more.” He leans over and kisses you, smiling against your lips. 

“Thank you, Beautiful.” He said, holding it up to look at it again, “I can’t wait to wear this one out to The Hard Deck.”

“Oh god…” You laughed, “The squad will have a field day.” 

“Yup.” He agreed, a huge smile on his face, “But I don’t even care. This shirt is too amazing for their negativity.”

“I adore you.” You smiled, shaking your head. You reached for the next one, giddy now. Excitement was making it hard to sit still. You handed him the next package. “This one is in parts… and involves a little field trip.”

“A field trip?” He asked, taking the box, his eyes sparkling with amusement, “I’m intrigued.” He unwrapped the box, opening it carefully. His eyes flew to yours, wide and questioning, mixed with hope as he lifted the dog collar, leash and rooster toy from the box, along with the application. “Angel… are we… did you…?”

“Your face whenever you see a dog while we’re on the beach or out for a walk is one of pure joy.” You answered, “You’ve talked about wanting a dog…about how you’ve always wanted a dog… I know before it would have been too hard, but now that we live together… I’ll be here to take care of him while you’re gone. I went on the San Diego Humane Society’s page and I found a two year old Golden Retriever who sounds like he’d be the perfect furbaby. I started the application for him, but we’re going to take a field trip to go meet him and you get final say.”

Bradley looked down at the application in his hands then back at you. 

“Angel this is… I don’t even have words.” He whispered, getting choked up again. “I have wanted a dog since I was a kid…my mom was allergic… then I was in college.. Then the Navy. Are you sure? Is this something you’d want too?”

“I am absolutely sure, Baby.” You assured him, “I love dogs and am more than happy to adopt a furbaby with you. It’s why I stalked the Human Society’s webpage.”

“Can we go now?” He asked, his excitement now bubbling over. 

“Yup.” You laughed softly, “Let me get changed quickly and we can go.”

You ran upstairs to change into a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a Tshirt from The Hard Deck. Penny had them made for a co-ed softball team she’d sponsored and had leftovers so she’d given them to the squad (and you). 

Once you were ready you headed back downstairs to find Bradley still sitting on the couch, but practically vibrating with excitement. 

“Ok, Baby.” You said, when you go to the bottom of the stairs, “Let’s go.” 

He did not need to be told twice. 

He pulled the Bronco into the Humane Society’s parking lot and into a spot, putting it into park and turning it off. 

The two of you walked into the building, and immediately you could hear dogs barking and cats meowing. It was a busy place. 

“Hello, welcome in!” The lady at the front desk said, smiling, “What brings you in today?”

“We’d like to look at the dogs please.” You said, “We’re interested in adopting.”

“Wonderful!” She said, “Is there a specific size, age, breed you’re looking for?”

“Actually, can we meet the two year old Retriever you have?” You asked, purposely not using his name yet. 

“He’s actually out back, getting some sun and fresh air right now with one of the volunteers.” She smiled, “Come on through, you can meet him out there and play with him.”

You slid your hand into Bradley’s as you walked through the room and past the kennels with the other dogs. You could see it was killing him not to stop and pet every single one of them. Once outside, you spotted Goose immediately with the volunteer. The lady from the front desk led you over. 

“These two are interested in this cutie patootie.” She said, leaning over to scratch Goose’s ears. 

“He’s a sweet boy. He loves to play, and explore but also loves some snuggle time with whoever is willing.” The volunteer smiled, “Meet Goose.”

Bradley’s breath caught, you could hear him softly gasp. He froze for a second before looking at you. You bit your lip, eyes meeting his. 

Goose took that opportunity to come over and nose Bradley’s hand before licking him and plopping down right in front of him, his big brown eyes looking up at Bradley hopefully, tongue hanging out of his mouth, almost smiling. 

“Hi, Goose.” Bradley whispered, his voice horse, emotions choking him, “Hey buddy.” He crouched down and started to pet the dog, scratching his ears until Goose rolled to his back, silently requesting belly rubs. Bradley chuckled and obliged. “You’re just a wet noodle, aren’t you? You like to play too?”

“He loves to play.” The volunteer said “He’ll chase a ball, play tug-o-war, he loves stuffies. He loves to go for walks. He’s got a lot of energy.”

You crouched down by your boyfriend and the dog, running your hand over Goose’s fur. 

“What do you think, Baby?” You asked, smiling softly at Bradley. 

“I think we need to finish the application you started.” He said, looking over at you, leaning in to gently kiss your forehead, “You were right, Angel. He’s perfect. Thank you.”

“We’d like to adopt Goose, please.” You smiled up at the volunteer and the lady from the front desk. 

That night, after dinner and cake and playing with Goose, you and Bradley were curled up together in bed, with Goose in his bed on the floor next to yours. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the fan and Goose’s content doggy snores. You were laying tucked into Bradley, facing one another on the soft bed. 

“This has been the best birthday that I can remember having in a really long time,” Bradley whispered.

You didn’t speak, giving him time to gather his thoughts. You traced your hand gently over his side and back soothingly. 

“My dad died a month after I turned 2.” He said softly. “My mom always did her best, made sure my birthdays were celebrated and I had a party and felt loved…but as I got older I could see how hard it was on her, how much she missed my dad, the pain. She’d fall into a depression every July… so I started to associate my birthday with the coming of her sad month. Then when I was 16 she was diagnosed with cancer. Chemo hit her hard… she fought like hell. Even though she felt like garbage she made Mav come celebrate my 17th birthday. He tried to make the cake and lasagna and almost burned the house down.” He chuckled through his tears that had escaped, “I think we all knew that would be the last birthday I’d get with her… she died a week later.”

“Oh, Baby.” You whispered, pulling him tighter, as if the tighter you held him you could somehow make things better. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. I’m sorry you lost your dad at such a young age… and then had to lose your mom so young too. It’s not easy at any age to lose a parent but to be dealt those blows both at young ages…the universe just fucking sucks sometimes.”

“It did have its really shitty moments.” He agreed in a soft whisper, “But all of it got me here to this moment… with you.. And for the first time since I was an angry seventeen year old kid… I feel like I can breathe… and getting through the anniversaries doesn’t feel as daunting this year. I’m not alone anymore because I have you by my side… and now Goose too.”

“You will always have me, Bradley.” You promised, looking at him in the dim moonlight coming in through the window. “For as long as you want me.”

“Does forever work for you?” He asked, kissing your forehead. 

“Are you proposing?” You smiled softly 

“Not yet.” He chuckled, “But I plan on it. Soon.”

“Forever works just fine for me.” You answered. 

“I love you, Angel.” He said, pulling you closer, his body finally relaxing, sleep creeping in. 

“I love you too, Handsome.” You replied, yawning as you nuzzled against him.  “Happy Birthday.”

***

AN: Originally had this where Goose's death anniversary was June 29 then realized I'm an idiot and it's JULY so had to rework the plot before posting... Let me know what you think! Also.. if I missed plot holes lol. Hope you enjoy it!!!

***

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“Heeeey,” Phoenix says, standing up to give you a one-armed hug, while Bob waits his turn.

The greeting is enough to ease whatever doubts you had about coming. This isn’t about you and Jake. It's about being with your friends.

Phoenix slides a glass in front of you as you settle in the seat next to her. “One whiskey on the rocks.”

You smile. “Oh my god, you are an angel.”

Your lips are still around the rim when your phone vibrates—apologizing as you pull it from your pocket and unlock the screen.

Jake: 🥃. Bad day?

You don’t need to search the room. You know exactly where he is. Leaning against the pool table, cue in hand, talking to Coyote, or pretending to because as soon as your eyes meet, he smiles, bright and wide.

Idiot.

Coyote turns to see what he’s smiling at, and you lift your glass in greeting to them both.

Within a second of locking your phone and setting it down, it buzzes again.

Jake: Rude.

You haven't quite finished your first drink when Rooster whistles for attention. “What're you all drinking?” he calls when you look at him. “Make it expensive, it’s on Jake.”

Phoenix and Bob exchange a look but say nothing. Instead, they hold up their bottles to show their order, and you do the same with your glass.

Another message pops up.

Jake: 👀

You don’t look over.

Jake: 👀👀

You hug Rooster as he joins you at the table.

Jake: 👀👀👀. Two whiskeys? Who do I need to kill?

You roll your eyes, typing a reply.

You: Stop. I’m fine. I’m switching to beer.

You rejoin the conversation and focus on the story Rooster is telling. Jake goes back to playing pool, a new contender to beat. Then two minutes later, your phone lights up again.

Jake: Rooster isn’t that funny.

You bite your lip to keep from laughing at the message, but can’t fight the smile, a mistake because now Jake knows he’s got you.

Jake: 😍 I’ve missed that smile.

You: Focus on your bet, Seresin.

You chance a glance his way, and of course, he notices and gives you a cheeky wink.

“Why are you smiling at your phone like that?” Phoenix asks.

“Nothing.”

No one believes you.

Jake: 😉

You ignore it.

Then more follow.

Jake:😍

Jake:🥺

Jake:😭

Jake:💔

Jake:⚰️

Jake:🪦R.I.P Hangman. Died waiting for his girlfriend to text him back.

You snicker, unable to control it.

“Oh my god,” Phoenix says, “what is going on?”

“What?”

Her eyes narrow. “You’ve been giddy for like the last hour.”

“That’s suspicious?”

“Recently,” Rooster says, “Yes.”

The trio follows your line of sight as you sneak another look at Jake, who makes the mistake of looking away too quickly.

“There, that!” Bob says. “That right there.”

“That look,” Rooster joins in.

“There’s no look, I’m just looking at Jake.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t been looking at Jake lately,” Phoenix says, softly. “We all thought...”

Another message buzzes through.

Jake: 🚨. Are they onto us?

You: Seeing as the stealth pilot seems to have lost his poker face, YES!

You see him read the message, shoulders shaking with laughter.

Jake: Not sorry. 🤷‍♂️ Jake: You’re cute when you’re plotting my murder. ☠️

You roll your eyes and shake your head, watching as Fanboy, Payback, and Coyote surround him, like hunters cornering prey. Jake actually steps backward until his back hits the high top.

Three sets of expectant, concerned eyes stare back at you as you bring your attention back to your tablemates. Realization hits, it’s an equal split, three on one. It makes sense now why no one suggested combining the groups and why they’ve been weirdly nostalgic, reminiscing about group vacations, game nights, and beach days.

“Wait, is this an intervention?”

Phoenix shakes her head no as Bob and Rooster simultaneously say, “Yes.”

“Subtle guys, real subtle,” Phoenix admonishes.

Jake: The kids are upset.

“We knew something was up, and we just wanted to help,” Phoenix says.

“And if that means murdering Jake for whatever he did, we’re in,” Rooster adds.

You chuckle. “No murder necessary.” Then sigh, “Really, it’s nothing.”

“It’s something,” Phoenix says, “you're not wearing your engagement ring. You haven’t been wearing it.”

“It’s be...” you start.

“Being polished,” Bob interrupts.

“Or is it being resized, as Jake claims?” Rooster adds.

Busted. You should have gotten your stories straight.

You’ve been doing your best to avoid this conversation and know they won't drop it until they have a believable answer. You could try to lie, but you don't want to. These are your friends now, too.

“Hangman has been working like he wants Employee Of The Month. You bailed on a Beach Day, which you haven’t done since we met you. You left Rooster on read about Game Night.”

You give Rooster an apologetic smile and take a deep breath. “We broke up.”

“How long?” Phoenix asks, gently.

“Couple months.”

Three identical expressions of horror appear.

“Months?” Rooster exclaims.

“I moved out.”

“You moved out?!”

“Bradshaw,” Phoenix grits.

“I’m sorry,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender, “I’m processing.”

Across the room, it looks like Jake is having a similar conversation. Fanboy is shaking his head, Payback has the I’m-not-mad-I’m-just-disappointed expression, and Coyote looks relieved he’s no longer the gatekeeper of the secret.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because I didn’t want to put anyone in an awkward position,” you sigh. “I was the one who made the decision to change things. It was on me.”

“Bullshit,” Bob scolds.

All heads snap to look at him.

“Sorry,” he shrugs, but doesn’t look sorry. He shuffles forward in his seat and holds your eyes. “You’re family, both of you. When something happens to family, we should know.”

“He’s right.” Phoenix nods. “You shouldn’t have had to go through any of it alone.”

“I didn’t,” you say, wistfully looking over at Jake. “He was actually there for me.”

Jake is still getting an earful, fingers pointing, a smack to his shoulder as he’s texting.

Jake: How bad is it?

You: Phoenix-level intervention. I bet there were snacks.

You see him laugh, and Coyote, having seen Jake’s phone, looks over and nods once to confirm there were, in fact, snacks.

A new tone sounds, a group message.

Hangman> Daggers: There’s a traitor in your midst. Coyote knew.

Everyone reads the message.

Coyote > Daggers: 🐀

Hangman > Daggers: Can I approach, or am I still under investigation?

Phoenix > Daggers: Negative.

Rooster > Daggers: The pattern is full.

You > Daggers: Nerds.

Fanboy > Daggers: I feel attacked.

“You don’t have to keep us separated,” you laugh.

“Yeah,” Rooster says, cracking his knuckles as he stands up. “Let’s go get him.”

Payback > Daggers: Movement detected.

Coyote > Daggers: 🐀

Hangman > Daggers: Stop doing that.

Bob > Daggers: Rendezvous point - pool tables.

You weave through the crowd, the others following like an aggressive Conga line.

Jake watches the approach with a smile until he realizes Phoenix, Rooster, and Bob peel off in different directions.

At the opposite end of the table, you hear him nervously ask, “Why do they all look mad?”

“Because you’re in trouble,” Coyote answers.

“Helpful.”

“You deserve it.”

“Also helpful.”

You walk directly to him and kiss him softly, tucking yourself into his side, and he slips his arm around your waist, the other still holding the pool cue.

“Hey,” he whispers, only for you.

Then you feel the warmth of bodies, and break your focus to see the circle has closed. Fanboy. Payback. Coyote. Phoenix. Bob. Rooster. You're surrounded. No exits.

Phoenix punches the arm still holding the pool cue, hard enough that he drops it. Coyote catches it before it hits the floor.

“OW!” Jake yelps, “What was that for?”

“You made her move out!”

“She left me!”

“You didn’t tell us.” Rooster accuses.

“I told Coyote.”

“Hey,” Coyote objects, “You swore me to secrecy.”

“Now, who's the rat?” Jake jests.

“Still you,” Rooster says.

“Without question,” Payback agrees.

“Guys,” Phoenix scolds, “we’re getting a little off track here.”

There’s no winning this argument because there are six people who care about both of you, who have, evidently, been building a case, and now they’re presenting evidence. They aren’t angry or taking sides. They don’t need the reasons why. They’re offended they weren’t trusted with the heartbreak.

“Look,” Jake says, “I’m sorry I only told Coyote. It wasn’t about shutting you guys out. I wasn’t ready to accept it.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” Fanboy says, pointing to where Jake’s arm is around your waist and you're turned into his side, “You don’t look like you're broken up.”

“We were. We are,” Jake corrects, squeezing your hip as an apology. “We’re working it out. Slowly.”

“Together,” you add.

“Damn it,” Fanboy grumbles. “There goes half my theories.”

“Half?” Bob asks.

“You had an unhealthy amount,” Rooster agrees.

Fanboy puffs his chest. “Most of them were excellent.”

“One of them involved witness protection,” Payback says.

“With Jake’s ability to piss people off, it was a solid working theory!” Fanboy defends.

“That’s fair,” You agree.

The group erupts into laughter.

Phoenix waits for it to die down before fixing Jake with a stern look. “Just so we’re clear,” she says, way too calmly. “If you mess up again, you won’t need witness protection. It will look like an accident and they’ll never find the body.”

The laughter evaporates.

Jake swallows hard. “Copy that.”

Part 7 - The Right Choice - What flavor of Ice Cream to have is not the only choice that needs to be made.

A/N 2: I’m sure I’ll be exploring more of these 2 in the future so be sure to get on my tag list so you don’t miss it.

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The screen begins to dim, and just as you're about to toss it onto the mattress, it lights up, illuminating your face.

Jake: I am. Jake: Can’t sleep?

You: Can’t turn my brain off. You: You?

Jake: I think I forgot how to sleep.

Speech bubbles appear. Disappear. Appear. Gone again. You hum, feeling the same uncertainty about what to say. Then finally...

Jake: Ice cream?

A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

You: Are you trying to solve insomnia with dairy?

Jake: It’s worth investigating.

Your laugh echoes around the room, making it feel empty. Neither of you should be awake at this time of the morning. You each have responsibilities tomorrow. Which is why ice cream sounds perfect.

You: See you in 20.

Jake’s alarm will be ringing in a little over four hours, his apartment still smells faintly of the pizza he’d forgotten to throw away after getting home from work, and every sensible part of his brain is telling him a late-night ice cream run isn’t going to fix the fact that he’s spent the last three nights sleeping in restless twenty-minute bursts.

He ignores those sensible thoughts.

Instead, he finds himself parked outside your apartment building, ten minutes early, which means he definitely broke at least three speed limits getting here. Leaning against the door, he crosses his ankles, trying for casual, though the way he stares at the building's door is anything but.

It’s ridiculous. He’s flown combat missions with his pulse steadier than this.

This is the part he wasn’t prepared for—the waiting. Getting you back isn’t about grand gestures like fancy dinners, long, albeit heartfelt speeches, or dramatic airport chases like in the movies. It’s waiting to see if you text first. It's giving you space so you’ll choose him tomorrow after choosing him today. Being offered a second chance is one thing, but living like he deserves it carries much higher stakes.

He misses you, misses the things he took for granted, the cute notes on the refrigerator when you left before him in the morning, the funny texts that flashed on his screen at the worst possible times, the late-night talks about nothing while eating cold pizza slices, the way you curled into him while watching horror movies, the flash of your smile over the edge of your book when he walked into the room.

The door opens, and he straightens, thoughts now solely in the present. His smile widens as he sees what you're wearing. Nothing fancy, sweats, sneakers, and a hoodie. His hoodie, which makes his pulse hitch a little.

Your expression softens into a smile when you spot him. Not the polite one you’ve perfected over the last few months or the brave one you’d worn while moving boxes out of the apartment. This one reaches your eyes.

It hits him then. He’d spent months wondering if he’d ever be the reason for that smile again. Now it’s walking toward him.

He pushes off the truck, forcing every ounce of nervous energy into something that resembles effortless confidence.

“I’ve been looking for that,” he nods toward the hoodie.

You smile, tucking your hands into the kangaroo pocket. “We established a long time ago that it now belongs to me.”

“Fair.” He huffs a laugh, opening the door for you.

“Is anywhere going to be open at this time?” you ask, moving to slide into the truck.

“I know a place,” he shrugs.

“Of course you do.”

The little ice cream shop sits tucked between a laundromat and a surf shop, its neon OPEN sign humming against the otherwise dark row of beachfront stores.

“You weren’t kidding,” you mutter.

“I rarely kid about dessert.”

“Only everything else.”

The bell above the door jingles as Jake holds it open for you. “Obviously.”

It’s clearly been a slow night because the young man behind the counter looks like he’s smoked one too many joints and has a line of chocolate sauce above his top lip.

“Evening,” he says as you approach.

Jake checks his watch. “Morning.”

“Whatever.”

You don’t even check the menu, and Jake is already shaking his head. “Don’t start, Seresin.”

“It tastes like toothpaste.”

“It’s fresh.”

“It’s dental hygiene.”

“I choose what I like,” you shrug. “You choose chaos, like a teenager who’s been left alone with a credit card.”

“Not today,” he winks, pulling a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill from his pocket. “It’s on Rooster.”

You roll your eyes, “Was it a dangerous or immature bet he lost?”

Jake shrugs. “Bit of both.”

“I’ll take a scoop of mint chocolate chip, please.” Tilting your head toward Jake, you sigh, “And I’m sure he’ll take whatever monstrosity you can pile into one tub.”

Jake stares you down while he orders. “I’ll have strawberry...”

You look surprised.

“With brownie pieces...”

“There it is.”

“...Hot fudge sauce...”

“It’ll be a melting mess.”

“...and Caramel....”

“Can’t forget the caramel.”

“And whipped cream.”

Five minutes later, he walks out carrying a heart-attack-inducing tower while you gently lick at your single scoop cone.

Walking side by side, you wander toward the beach without really deciding to. The waves roll lazily onto the sand, silver beneath the moonlight, and gulls begin to wake for dawn.

He’s forgotten how much he loves doing absolutely nothing with you. No plans, no destination, nowhere to be, just walking.

You finish your cone before he’s managed half of his, and sit on the driftwood someone took the time to carve into a bench. Jake watches intently as you drag your finger through the concoction he's holding, grimacing as you lick the digit clean.

“Oh geez, Jake, that’s disgustingly sweet.”

He smirks, “But delicious.”

Shaking your head, you rest your elbows on your knees, watching as the approaching blue hour blurs the horizon where the sky meets the sea.

For a while, neither of you says anything. The silence settles around you like an old favorite blanket, comfortable enough that neither of you feels obligated to fill it.

“Wanna know something embarrassing?” Jake eventually asks, expertly throwing his empty tub into a steel drum acting as a trash can.

“Always.”

“I almost texted four times before you texted me.”

You chuckle. “Why didn’t you?”

“Didn’t wanna seem clingy.”

“You sent me like fifty emojis today. “

“Fifty-nine. I counted.”

That earns him another laugh. God, he’s missed that laugh and being the reason for it. Quicker than he likes, the sound drifts off with the wind. The waves approach and recede, the breeze ruffles your hair, but you remain still.

“I miss talking to you,” Jake says.

You turn your head, resting your chin on your shoulder, and give him a small smile. “Me too.”

“No,” he smiles faintly. “I mean, really talking. The pointless conversations. All the ones I took for granted because I thought we’d have years to do it. I miss the arguments about music, the debates over whether cereal counts as dinner. Which, it absolutely does.”

You laugh, leaning back to put your palms flat and stretch your legs out. You look relaxed, which was his aim. “It absolutely doesn’t.”

He smiles. “Speaking of talking, you never did tell me why you were drinking whiskey on a Tuesday night.”

You avert your gaze to look at the ocean. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, my alarm, that is conveniently at home, isn’t due to go off for,” checking his watch, coaxes the return of your smile, “two and a half hours. So I have time.”

You sigh, shuffling closer to him, and instinctively, he lifts his arm to put around your shoulders. “Can we just enjoy this, be in the moment?”

He kisses the top of your head; it’s so natural it almost hurts. “We can.”

He knows what you're doing, though. The tiny crease between your eyebrows, the anxious way your thumb rubs at the sleeve of his hoodie, lets him know that instead of enjoying the quiet, you're hiding inside it.

He says your name softly, a question.

You take a deep breath. “I got offered another promotion, a division of my own.”

“Congratulations?” He frames it as a question because if it were something you were excited about, you’d have told him sooner.

You huff a humorless laugh. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t ask whether it pays more, has a fancy new title, or what other perks it might offer, because only one question really matters.

“Where?”

“Colorado.”

The word hangs. Far enough away to make spontaneous ice cream at two-thirty in the morning impossible. Far enough that weekend visits would be difficult, and military leave and unpredictable schedules suddenly matter. Far enough that it changes everything.

“I’m assuming the whiskey on a Tuesday and a midnight ice cream run mean you’re conflicted.”

“I promised myself I wouldn’t put my life on hold again.”

The surf almost drowns out your words. Jake closes his eyes for the briefest second against the pain, but still, he understands.

“I’d be lying if I said I want you to take it, but you have to do what’s right for you.”

“What if I don’t know what that is? What if I choose wrong? What if I mess it up?”

“I don’t know.” He keeps his voice carefully neutral because this isn’t his decision, no matter how desperately he wants the answer to be that you stay.

He stands up, paces two steps away, and then turns. You look up at him, tears pooling in your eyes, and he hates how conflicted you look.

“Let’s make it simple. Do you want the job?”

You hesitate for only a moment, and he knows it's because you don’t want to hurt him.

“Yes. It’s everything I’ve been working for.”

“And you’ve worked your ass off,” he agrees. “You not only deserve it; you’ve earned it.”

“That doesn’t make the decision any easier.”

He swallows hard, the ice cream churning in his stomach. He can feel you slipping away. “Wh-” his voice catches in his suddenly dry throat. “When do you have to give your answer?”

“Monday.”

He nods like it's okay, but it’s not. Four days isn’t enough time to say goodbye. He moves to kneel in the sand, taking your hands in his, because it seems like a waste not to touch you when he might not be able to soon.

“I love you,” he says quietly, as if he knows he shouldn’t say it. “Selfishly, I want you to stay.” A sad smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. “But I understand that it’s something you need to do for you.” Bringing your hands to his lips, he kisses your knuckles. “This only works if you choose me because I’m the right choice, not because I’m the closest one. I don’t want you to wake up ten years from now wondering what would’ve happened if you’d taken it, and I sure as hell don’t want to be the guy you blame.”

“I hate it when you’re the emotionally mature one.”

“I know.”

“It’s deeply inconvenient.”

A tiny smile finally breaks through. “For the record, if you move to Colorado, I expect unlimited visitation rights.”

You laugh through tears.

“But also,” he strings out the last syllable, "and no pressure,” he smirks, “but Phoenix did threaten to kill me if I mess this up.”

This time, your laugh is deep, the emotion melting away some of the apprehension. “I’ll be sure to let her know she doesn’t need to move you up on her hit list.”

“Appreciated.”

Sitting curled into each other, you silently watch the mesmerizing tapestry of blues and golds as the first rays of sunlight hit the waves. Neither of you has found the answer, but somehow neither of you feels quite so alone looking for it.

A/N 2: I’m sure I’ll be exploring more of these 2 in the future so be sure to get on my tag list so you don’t miss it.

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