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roosterforme · 11 months

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It's Okay, Daddy's Here | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Even after your honeymoon is over, you find yourself needing your husband all the time. One Saturday, when Bradley is out with the guys, you have an itch you just can't scratch by yourself. When he comes home and finds you a desperate, horny mess, he assures that "It's okay, Daddy's here."

Warnings: Smut and fluff

Length: 2200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series! (But it can be read on its own) Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order!

You couldn't understand what had happened to you since you stopped taking your birth control pills, but you'd been insatiable for the last month and a half. The ten day honeymoon you and Bradley had spent in Hawaii had been pure perfection. And now you'd been enjoying your husband as frequently as you could get your hands on him since returning home.

"What do you mean you're going golfing tomorrow morning?" you asked Bradley as you got undressed for bed on Friday night. You paused, naked with his tee shirt in your hands, and gaped at him. "Roo. That'll be hours. And then the guys will want to go out for drinks," you whined. "You won't be here to fuck me."

He groaned and patted his lap before he reached for you. "Tee time at the country club is Javy's Christmas present to all of us, so I agreed to go." You tossed the shirt aside and climbed up onto the bed to straddle his thighs. "But I can cancel, Baby Girl," he grunted, palming your tits as you leaned in closer to kiss him.

"No," you moaned against his mouth. "I don't want Javy to be mad at me. But you better do me so good right now, Roo. Seriously."

"Don't I always?" he growled, flipping you onto your back and running his fingers down along your belly and over your tattoo. "Don't I always take care of you?"

"I have the best husband," you whispered as his lips connected with your neck. Then his fingers met your clit, and he eased his body weight down on top of you. And it was heavenly. And he fucked you hard into the bed until you came, screeching his name. And then you slept all night long, curled up on his warm chest in a state of satiated bliss.

But as soon as you woke up to a cold, empty bed late Saturday morning, you flopped onto your back and tried to coax yourself back to sleep once more. But you couldn't. The need was almost immediate as you sat up. The bedding smelled like Bradley, and you knew you needed to go into the other room.

After you grabbed your glasses and pulled on his soft UVA shirt, you went to make some coffee. But as it brewed, your mind wandered to how good he looked in his white golf pants and polos. You hoped he was wearing that deep blue floral print shirt that hugged his biceps.

"Good Lord," you gasped, fixing your coffee the way you liked it and walking out onto the back patio with Tramp. But even the chilly December San Diego air couldn't cool you down. Bradley was probably getting all sweaty right now, gripping his nine iron and wearing those soft gloves.

"Jesus," you whined, pacing around and sipping your hot coffee. "Just chill. You made it through work all week without him." But that wasn't exactly true. On Tuesday, you'd fucked him on your lunch break in the backseat of the Bronco in the parking garage. And on Thursday afternoon, he'd come into your office reeking like jet fuel and fucked you up against your file cabinet.

Tramp looked up at you when you let out a noise close to a whimper. You finished your coffee and went back inside to start packing for the Christmas holidays, but as soon as you opened your underwear drawer, you caught sight of all of your wedding lingerie, and you had to leave the room again.

A shower. That would help. But you tried hot water and then cold water, and you just ended up with your back pressed against the tile wall, stroking our fingers over your clit. You must be ovulating. That would explain a lot right now. But as you tried to get yourself off, you kept coming up short.

"No," you whined, dipping your fingers into your own slick before bringing them back up to your clit. When you managed to get the tiniest bit of relief, you finished up in the shower and went to get dressed.

But you ended up pulling out your vibrators only to glare at them, because they did not look as appealing as Bradley did. "Fuck," you grumbled, tossing them back where they belonged and kicking your drawer closed.

How much longer could golf possibly take? You'd be fine until you could get the real thing. You could wait.

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Bradley rushed through the eighteenth hole, hoping to get back home to you faster, but the guys weren't having it.

"Let's hit up the bar," Hangman drawled. "Drinks are on me."

Bradley opened his mouth to protest, but Jake cut him off and said, "And don't even try to use your wife as an excuse, Bradshaw. You and Angel can go a few hours without your hands all over each other. The honeymoon is over."

But it wasn't. It really wasn't. Bradley wanted his hands and mouth on you at the moment so badly, he hoped the honeymoon would never end.

"Fine," he grumbled. "One drink." But one turned into two, and the jukebox at the Hard Deck was playing Christmas music, and Penny got him to dance with her before he was able to sneak out. He had been gone most of the day.

As he walked back to the Bronco late in the afternoon sunlight, he texted you and let you know he was finally on his way home. Your response was almost instantaneous.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: Hurry

"Damn," he muttered, starting up the engine and rushing home to get to you. He thought maybe you'd be waiting for him in bed, wearing that little red lingerie set he liked so much, but what he discovered was even better.

"Holy shit," he muttered as soon as he walked inside the front door. His golf bag clattered to the floor as you turned your head to look over your shoulder at him.

"Roo," you moaned, and it was the neediest, most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his life. And before he knew it, he was palming himself through his white golf pants at the sight of you naked, straddling the arm of the living room couch. Your back was to him as you rubbed your bare pussy up and down the arm, back arched and whining softly.

He stumbled closer to you, his eyes glued to your ass as you moved in the most appealing way. You were leaving glistening streaks of your slick along the upholstery, and it was so fucking hot.

"What's going on, Baby Girl?" he managed to ask as you looked back at him again.

"I can't help it," you gasped, your voice bordering on pitiful as you sucked in a deep breath. "I'm so fucking horny, Bradley. I've tried masturbating all day, but nothing feels as good as you do."

"Oh, Sweetheart," he rasped, unzipping his pants and getting himself ready. "You should have called me."

"Please! I need you. Make it go away."

You were almost in tears now as Bradley put his hands on your hips, helping you rock your soaking wet pussy against the couch. "Shh. Daddy's home now. It's okay, Daddy's here." He stood behind you and kissed your bare shoulder, letting his fingers skim up your belly to stroke the undersides of your breasts.

"Oh! Your fingers feel so good," you groaned, planting your hands on the back of the couch and rocking your hips a little faster.

"How did you get like this, Baby Girl?" he whispered next to your ear, pressing the front of his body to your back as you rocked your pussy along, trying to find some satisfaction. "You're like a dog in heat," he groaned, squeezing your nipples.

"I know," you keened, head tossed back to give him access to your neck. "I'm ovulating."

"Oh, hell," he grunted. That was music to Bradley's ears as you bumped his hard cock with your ass every time you rolled your hips. "You need me to fuck you?" he asked softly, licking a stripe up your neck. "You need my cum?"

"Please, Daddy," you begged softly, but he could hear the desperation there. "Fuck me."

Bradley eased away from you and lifted you up a bit by your hips as you whined. "Aww, Sweetheart," he said, stroking his fingers along your ass down to your soaking wet pussy while he admired the wet spot on the couch. "You need me."

You looked back at him and nodded as he palmed your ass up in the air. "I need you, Daddy," you said, your voice breaking with tears in your eyes.

Bradley stroked your soft skin and asked, "Do you know how bad I want you knocked up?"

You nodded again, practically on the verge of tears. "I know it."

Bradley set you down gently on the arm once more, tipping you forward slightly so your clit was rubbing against the wet spot you made. Then he grabbed his cock as you wiggled your ass at him, just begging to have him fill you up.

"I got you," he promised, rubbing himself through your wetness. "I'll take care of everything."

With one steady thrust, he filled you and bottomed out. A sound of relief escaped you as you moaned, "Daddy." Bradley pulled you snug to him by your hips, and with each fluid thrust, he helped you rock your clit against the couch.

Bradley kept you going at a steady pace, fucking you nice and slow as he guided you along, praising you for being the perfect wife. "You always look so good for me. With your pretty pussy and that ass on display. You know how much I like coming home to find you ready for me?"

"Tell me," you whispered, starting to clench around him.

He kissed along your neck as you jerked yourself along a little faster. "I love it when you're waiting for me to fill you up. I love how needy you are."

Bradley knew you were close now, so he let you ride the arm of the couch and bump back along his length while he held himself still for you. And then you were cumming, shaking against his body, reaching back for his hands as you clenched around his cock and sobbed softly.

"You feel better?" he asked, still fucking you slow and steady. You were like a feral animal that only he was able to tame.

"So much better," you whispered, turning and licking his bicep. "You're all sweaty, Roo. You smell so good."

"Damn it," Bradley grunted. Now he was starting to feel slightly unhinged over you. His wife needed him so badly around the clock right now. He expected that your body would start to adjust to being off birth control, and this extreme need for him would start to ease up. But for now, he didn't mind one bit. And he wanted to keep you filled up with his cum until it took.

He slammed into you a little harder as you gazed lovingly at him over your shoulder. "You can do it, Daddy." He reached for your chin, grabbing you and kissing you a little rough.

"Oh, fuck." Then he was filling you before he collapsed against your back. Bradley ran his hands along your pristine skin, paying extra attention to your tits as he caught his breath. "I can't believe I found you riding the couch like this."

"Nothing would even take the edge off, Bradley. Just you."

He squeezed your tits and ran his nose behind your ear. "I love you. Next time, you call me. I drop everything for you whenever I can. You understand me?"

"Yes." Your voice was soft and calm now, and he could tell you were feeling much better.

"That's my girl." When he withdrew from your pussy, and his cum leaked out onto the arm of the couch, Bradley whispered, "Don't move."

He dug his phone out of his pocket and took some photos of you turning to look at him with a sweet, fucked out expression on your face and a messy pussy. He knew those images would keep him warm when he was deployed. Then he helped you stand right in front of him, and both of you admired the soiled arm of the couch together.

"Beautiful," Bradley murmured next to your ear, stroking his fingers along your belly and wishing.

He watched you run your finger through the mess before licking it and turning to kiss him. You traced his lips with your tongue and he tasted himself before you said, "I'll clean up the couch."

"No, you're going to go get in bed like a good girl. And after I clean up out here, I'll be ready to take the edge off for you again. Okay?"

You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him, and then he watched your ass as you headed to bed to wait for him to take care of you again.

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Roo always takes care of his wife! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

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blueteesgolf · 2 years

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#golf range finder #blue tees rangefinder #best golf rangefinder #golf distance finder #range finder for golf #golf gps rangefinder #golf laser rangefinder #best rangefinders #amazon golf rangefinder #Series 2 Range Finder #Series 2 Pro Golf Rangefinder #Series 3 Max Golf Rangefinder #Rangefinder Magnetic Strap #Golf Hats #Rangefinder Hard Case

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taskmastercaps · 3 months

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[ID: Six screencaps from Taskmaster. Sue Perkins sits at a table with a series of switches in front of her. Pointing to one, she asks, "What if that's leaves? I've been denied the pleasure of leaves. Immediately with the leaves." Later, she's standing in a dim, blue-lit room, trying to balance golf tees on a thin horizontal rail. A load of leaves suddenly falls on her from the ceiling. She says, "Oh, you see... Oh, it was leaves, it was leaves! It was leaves." End ID.]

#taskmaster #sue perkins #16 #16x07

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ihearthes · 11 months

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Title: Hole in One

Author: @ihearthes

Pairing: Harry x Reader Insert (1st person)

Rating: Smut (NSFW, 18+ Only)

Word Count: 3100

The sky is the bluest it’s been in months, and I hear birds singing from the trees surrounding the private course. My clubs have been unused for far too long, and I cannot wait to feel the grass beneath my feet. Spying my grandparents talking to a young man who I assume is the club’s pro, I make my way in their direction, eager to get onto the green. The giddy skip in my step is undeniably partly due to the excitement of playing the game again, but mostly because I’ve not seen my jetsetter grandparents since Christmas.

“Grammy! Gramps!” I call, my hand waving as they turn towards me. Wrapping my grandmother in a hug, I put out my hand for a high five with my grandfather. Gleefully, he obliges.

“So glad you could join us!” Grammy whoops. “Let me look at you.” Taking my hands, she steps back to survey me in that way that must be a full chapter in the Grandparent Training Manual. “Looking sexy as hell,” she laughs, her greeting likely not in that same manual. “Twirl for us.” She makes that motion with her finger, and I oblige.

As I spin around, my skort not moving in any way that would make a twirl necessary, my grandfather applauds as if I were a five year old at her first ballet recital.

“Two of the biggest dorks I know,” I giggle. “I’m so happy to see you!” Excitedly, I pull them in for a group hug, wondering why the golf pro hasn’t excused himself yet. So when I step back, I pointedly look in his direction.

And promptly freeze.

Fuck. Nope. Not the golf pro. Nor the course manager. Not anyone who works at the place.

“Hi. I’m Harry.” He leans forward to shake my hand, his left leg raising behind him as a counterbalance to his inclining body. “You must be Birdy.”

Horrified, I grasp his warm hand, my eyes roaming over his face with that stupid hair clip firmly holding back his bangs and his green eyes examining me, a smile on his face as his dimple deepens. Flustered, I don’t give him my birth name. “A nickname, of course,” I remark inanely.

“I’m just hoping it doesn’t bode ill for my game today.” His gray pants are matched with a dark blue pullover sweater, a white turtleneck underneath.

How my mouth continues to work is beyond me, but I throw my head back and laugh loudly. Probably too loudly as I’m feeling a mixture of terror and arousal, and the laughter is decidedly nervous. “I’ve never been a threat to anyone on the golf course,” I comment.

“With grandparents as young as yours, I expected someone younger.” Harry thinks he’s being coy, but my grandmother responds honestly.

“We’re ancient, Harry, and our Birdie is 31 now. And not getting any younger.” Pointedly, she looks at me as though I had offended her in some way.

“We’re up,” Gramps points, and we haul our clubs to the first tee.

“What’s your handicap?” Harry asks as Gramps swings a few times for practice.

“23,” I announce proudly, on the low end of average. “You?”

“14,” he brags, adding a wink for good measure, an indication that he is aware of his boast. Not that I can complain since I’ve also gloated about my below-average number. He’s too handsome and charming for my comfort, and I engage my attention on my clubs, polishing my driver before withdrawing it from my bag.

Amiable enough, Harry diverts his focus onto my grandmother, and I’m grateful for the respite to catch my breath.

“You must go first, Vivienne.”

I want to interrupt and tell him we always go with the oldest first, which is my gramps, but my grandmother has already fallen for Harry’s charm, and she giggles like a schoolgirl as she makes her way to the tee.

After my grandfather and I have each teed off, Harry prepares for his turn. In those tight golf trousers, his arse is as well defined as the ostentatious naked statue in the fountain at the entrance to the golf club. I find myself unable to stop staring as he bends down to place his tee, and his form when he swings is a thing of beauty. No wonder he has a low handicap. Why couldn’t he be a failure at just one thing in his life? And why couldn’t it be golf?

Noting where his ball lands, Harry removes his sunnies from the vee of his sweater and slides them over his eyes, shielding his expression. With a nod at the three of us, he twists his body, ready to move on.

“Shall we?” Gramps gestures, and I hoist my clubs onto my shoulder again, setting off behind the elderly couple who head for a single golf cart. “Sorry, Birdy.” He casually throws over his shoulder as we approach the small vehicle. “We got the last cart. You and Harry will have to walk. But don’t worry. Your grandmother and I will do our best not to burn rubber.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if my grandparents were trying to play matchmakers. But they wouldn’t have any idea who Harry is. Although maybe it doesn’t matter to them. Perhaps my grandparents just want to pair me up with any Tom, Dick, or ….Harry.

“Mhm. See that you don’t get a speeding ticket, Gramps!” I yell as they take off, leaving Harry and I trailing behind.

“You seem like a chip off the old block,” Harry jokes as we hike towards the hole. “Get it? Cause a chip is a golf shot.”

“Oh, I understood the joke, but it was bad,” I groan. “No ifs, ands, or putts about it.”

His eyes widen. “I see. It’s like that, is it?”

We both giggle, and when he shoves my shoulder at my next golf pun, I wonder if he’s flirting with me. As if Harry Styles needed to flirt with anyone.

It’s on the fourth fairway that my Gramps gets involved with a joke of his own. “Hey, Harry?”

“Yes, sir?” The polite reply comes as I’m replacing my divot.

“Why do the golf pros tell you to keep your head down during golf lessons?”

“I don’t know, Rufus.” Harry withdraws his 3-wood and addresses the ball, shaking his hips in such a way that if my grandparents weren’t around, I’d probably faint. “Why?”

“So you can’t see them laughing.” Gramps guffaws, and Harry shakes his head, the corners of his mouth tilted up as he takes a deep breath and launches his ball closer to the green.

My grandparents always make me laugh, but today they seem in finer form than usual, as they joke with Harry, my grandmother clearly vamping. Before today, I’ve never wondered if my grandfather was anything other than straight, but the way he touches Harry at every opportunity makes the wheels in my head churn.

On the 8th hole, Grammy takes a mulligan after her ball sails into the water hazard, just short of making it across. She sighs, pulling another ball from her bag and muttering goodnaturedly to Harry. “Golf balls are just like eggs. They’re white, round, and you need another dozen every week.”

Harry slaps his knee as he giggles at her pathetic joke. I can almost convince myself that he’s having the time of his life playing golf with these 78-year-olds. He gives every appearance of enjoying the late afternoon game. No wonder no one has anything unkind to say about him. Well, no one he’s met anyway.

As we walk to the 9th hole, I decide to dive in and bravely ask the question that’s been on my mind for the last two and a half hours. “Why did you join us today?”

Startled, he twists his head to look at me. “You had three. I was a late single player. The pro added me to your party. Simple.”

“Okay.” I draw the word out, wondering if I should ask the follow-up question, and when he continues glancing at me curiously, I go for it. “But why do you have a free day today? And why didn’t you bring someone with you?”

He turns his head away from me, but I still see that left dimple deepen as he shrugs. “I decided on a whim that I wanted to golf in this perfect weather, and my manager was busy preparing for tomorrow night’s show.” Turning around, he walks backwards so he can face me. “But I never thought I’d meet such a fun –” his eyes never leave mine, “and sexy companion.”

I can feel the red creeping up from my toes through my body to flush my face. How does he do it? Flirting so openly without being gross? If anyone else had delivered that line, I would have gagged. Instead, I pretend that his comment has had no effect on me – like I’m not going to need dry panties before dinner with my grandparents.

“Harry!” My grandfather yells from where he and my grammy have stopped at my ball. “You better watch where you’re going! Sometimes people don’t replace their divots.”

The musician nods to me courteously as though he hadn’t just made my heart flutter. Turning to face forward, he continues on the pathway where we finish the 9th hole.

“Birdie,” Grammy stoutly announces to me as she climbs back into the cart. “Your grandfather and I are tired. We’re going to head to the clubhouse and have a drink, but you and Harry should play the back nine.” With that, my grandparents wave to us as their cart drives off towards the start.

Oh.

Well.

That was unexpected.

This is unexpected.

Harry has put his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. “Well?” He watches me carefully, and I know the decision to continue is mine.

“I doubt I’ll get to play with someone like you again, so we might as well continue.”

“Someone like me? A celebrity?” Seeming genuinely confused, he removes his sunnies and scratches his head near that damn hair clip.

“A duffer,” I tease.

“If that’s the case, it’s because your beauty has distracted me from my game today.” His eyes twinkle when he makes the comment, and that’s the moment I know the flirting is on in earnest.

When we reach the 12th green, I can’t stand being so close to him without letting him know I am up for more. As he squares up for his putt, but before he pulls the club back to take the shot, I whisper loud enough for his ears only, “If you miss this putt, I’ll let you kiss me.” He doesn’t hesitate, taking the shot that rolls right at my feet where I’m holding the flag. And yet somehow the ball doesn’t go in.

“Does that deal count if I accidentally missed?”

Biting my lip, I tilt my head and observe him. “Hmmm…I’m not sure. It’s kind of offensive that you wouldn’t want to miss it on purpose. I mean, here I am, perfectly kissable. I’m going to say no. It doesn’t count.”

Stalking towards me, he picks up his golf ball and tosses it to the edge of the green. “How about now?” His voice is a growl, and he’s standing close enough for me to feel the heat emanating from his body.

Fuck. He’s so hot. Beyond sexy.

I glance around the course quickly to see if anyone is nearby. Spotting no one, I tilt my head up to him. Harry grabs my chin with two fingers, staring into my eyes before he brushes his lips over mine. The moan that emits from my throat is heartfelt and demands more from him, but he steps back, his hand dropping to his side.

Hooded eyes rake over me, and he smirks. “You’ve never met a golfer with a more delicate stroke than me.”

“Promises, promises,” I tut, holding out the flag for him to take so I can putt.

A few holes later, and all pretense has dropped as Harry rests his hands on my hips while I’m lining up my shot. “Are you sure you know how to hold a shaft correctly?” His voice in my ear is so gravelly that I want to drop onto my knees right there on the fairway and show him exactly how skilled I am at handling a shaft.

“Be careful there, Harry,” I murmur, “You’re like a water hazard. You’ve got me soaking wet.”

“Fuck.” Stepping back from me, he shakes his head. “How many holes?”

“Three,” I comment, and my eyes bat of their own accord, I swear!

“Jesus!” He runs his hand over his face. “You’re like a fairway: short, well-groomed, and a pleasure to hit on.”

“Are you saying you’d like to improve our stroke game together?”

“I’m saying that I’m not going to make it back to the clubhouse at this rate.”

“Well…” I approach him, again searching the nearby greens for golfers, “...my golf coach says I have a firm grip. Do you want to see if it’s true?”

“Birdy…” His voice is strangled as I ease my hand over the front of his trousers, feeling his length where it’s tucked safely high and to the left. The air exits his lungs at a faster velocity than a golf swing. “Get your clubs,” he commands, roughly replacing the putter he’d withdrawn and grabbing my hand.

Yanking me behind him, Harry leads the way towards the parking lot where he uses an electronic key to open the vehicle and throw in his clubs before grabbing my golf bag and more gently placing it on top of his so that the two golf bags look to be spooning.

“Get in,” he insists, and I don’t hesitate to scurry to the passenger side.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my hands in my lap after I’ve buckled the seatbelt. The quivering in the lower part of my body will only be appeased in one way.

“Shit. I’ve no idea,” he sighs, not putting the car in drive. “My hotel is too far.”

“Switch places with me,” I suggest, knowing exactly where we can go.

With a single nod, the two of us climb from the vehicle and pass each other silently and aggressively on our way to opposite sides. Buckled in, I back the car from the lot and drive the two miles to my grandparents’ house.

“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” I state. “Open the garage before the neighbors spot us.” I share the code, and Harry follows my directions. Without drawing too much attention, we’ve sequestered ourselves in the garage, with Harry waiting impatiently for me to get out of the car.

The moment I step from the driver’s side onto the pavement of my grandparents’ garage, Harry approaches me, his hands cupping my face as he devours my lips. I do not hesitate, opening to him as my fingers fumble for the bottom of that fucking blue sweater I’ve been jealous of all afternoon because it gets to hug his curves. As I draw the sweater up, he releases my face to raise his arms over his head, and I don’t hesitate, repeating the gesture with his white turtleneck.

As soon as his skin is free from the clothing, his mouth crashes back onto mine as his long lush fingers make short work of my white polo. He’s backed me almost to the stairs that lead to the house, and he wraps an arm around my nearly naked back just as I’m about to topple over onto them.

“Where?” His breath is scented with the mint from his gum, and I feel the waft of it across my cheek.

My brain scrambles. My grandparents’ house. Quickly I discard the master bedroom and the sofa in the living room. Grasping his hand, I haul us both to the only room that makes sense. Stopping to frantically kiss this amazing man, I reach behind me to unhook my bra, his fingers brushing over my boobs as soon as they are bare.

When I open the door to our destination, Harry pauses, his eyes widening as he takes in the golf trophies, photos of my grandparents with famous golfers on the paneled walls, and the putting green. Shaking his head, he laughs, and the crinkles at his eyes make my panties even wetter.

“I like my men like a sand trap: dirty, challenging, and unpredictable.” Although I’ve attempted to make the joke with a straight face, I fail miserably as I dissolve into giggles.

With a face palm, Harry laughs too, glancing at the putting green. “No way am I fucking on that fake turf. One of us would end up with scraped knees, and I don’t know if I would prefer it be you or me.”

“No question there,” I purr as I drop to my knees in front of him and reach for the button and zipper on his trousers. “I’ve been drooling for this shaft all afternoon.”

“Well, I am known for my lengthy club.” The smirk on his face drops away as I free his cock and give it a few strokes before sliding my lips over the end and applying light pressure. Pushing his pants and underpants down his thighs, I reach for his balls. “Oh, fuck,” he sucks in air. “I had planned to wash my balls after the game today, but you’re welcome to….ahhhhhh.” The way the sound escapes his mouth when I do as he suggests and lave his balls with my tongue has me hotter than a July game at a Miami course.

Returning to his cock, I slide his length as far as my throat will allow, practically unhinging my jaw as I take him in. Closing my lips, I use suction until he grabs my head, pulling my hair to remove me from my current activity.

When I look up at him, I can see the scar under his chin as he’s staring at the ceiling. He takes a deep breath, and I cannot resist scraping my teeth lightly to see his reaction. It’s instant, as his jaw drops and his eyes connect with mine. Just as I get to the end of his cock again, I make a humming sound, knowing he can feel the vibration on this sensitive body part.

“Birdy…” he gasps. “I need…”

Releasing him with a popping sound, I sit back on my knees and grin, rather proud of my ability to reduce this cheeky flirt to two-word sentences.

“What?” I demand.

“I need to feel your fringe. Taste it even.”

Closing my eyes, I shake my head as though I’m disappointed with his golf pun, but it honestly gives a zing to my private parts.

“Fair enough,” I comment, using my current location to remove his shoes and the rest of his clothing so that he stands before me, naked but for his socks.

“Shouldn’t that be ‘fairway’ enough?” He giggles, his shaft pointing straight at me.

I groan. “Oh, man. If I weren’t so hot for you, your bad jokes might just turn me off.”

“Good,” he smiles, and the dimple deepens until I’m confident I could fit a thousand golf balls, each with their own 381 dimples, inside it. That many dimples all in the same space would be overwhelming. “Now let’s put my wood in your golf bag, shall we?” He holds his hand down to me, and I grasp it so that he can pull me upwards, our tongues tangling like a dust devil.

Fingers fumbling with the buttons on my skort, Harry moves his lips to my neck. “Why ‘Birdy’?”

“Seriously?” I scoff. “You want to talk about my nickname now?”

His luxurious fingers shove my panties and my skort down to my ankles, ignoring my shoes completely as he encourages me to kick off the offending clothing. “Yes please.”

Nude, I plant my hands on my hips, glaring at him from where he’s squatting on the floor after removing my outfit. “My grandfather scored a birdie every time he took me out with him on the golf course when I was a baby.”

“Oh,” he pouts.

“Not as sexy as you thought it might be?”

“As a story, you really should work on it.”

“I promise I’ll spice up the story with the next single that joins our foursome,” I simper. A look crosses his face that could be construed as jealousy if one were so inclined. Which I’m not. Because he’s just an afternoon fuck.

As I start to step past him to the leather sofa, he grabs my thighs and buries his face in my crotch, sniffing deeply. Flabbergasted, I pause, my balance off.

“Widen your stance,” Harry demands, and when I follow his direction, he uses both hands to part the petals at my entrance. Just before his tongue dives in, he blows a puff of air, and I shiver at the sexiness of the move.

“Fuck, Harry,” I grab for his shoulder so I don’t sink to the floor. Between his tongue and his teeth, I nearly tip over the abyss, but when he uses both hands, inserting one finger in each of my body’s lower entrances, I come, screaming his name as I yank his hair, accidentally dislodging that damn hair clip which skitters across the wood floor. My orgasm continues as Harry rises, one finger still teasing my clit.

“You were right,” he whispers to me as I gaze at his glistening face, “three holes left. Now taken care of.” Capturing my lips, he delves inside my mouth, his tongue and finger below taking turns, setting a rhythm that would do well in one of his songs.

Fuck. I’m weak.

When my body stops shivering, I use both hands to shove him onto the sofa where he lands with both feet out and his driver in the air.

“Birth control?” he asks.

“Taken care of,” I grin. “IUD. But if you want double protection or you don’t trust me…” I gesture towards the rest of the house, trying to figure out where a condom might be hidden in my grandparents’ house.

“I trust you. No one with that nickname and those grandparents could lie about something like that.”

With a grin, I concede his point. Besides, my grandparents would flip their lids if I got pregnant without a commitment.

Slowly, as if I’m lining up a putt, I slide onto him.

“Mmmmm…that’s a hole to be respected,” Harry murmurs as I descend, and I would laugh if not for the fact that I’m gearing up for my second orgasm.

“Are you up for some stroke play?” I query as I settle completely on him, my insides stretched but happy.

“Stroke that stroke, babe.”

With the steady beat of that Billie Squier oldie in my head, I follow his instructions, lifting myself off his shaft before plunging back down as hard as I can. Just when I’m getting closer, panting as I look to the skies, Harry taps my butt cheek. “Turn around here, love.”

Settling on the sofa with my rear in the air, I am startled when Harry’s finger circles my asshole, and I wonder if I’m in for a different experience than I had originally expected. He’s too big for my back door without a lot of preparation, and it’s clear he knows it as he settles on wedging a finger there while his cock invades my vagina. Between his cock and his inserted finger, I’m so close to exploding that I slam my body backwards into his until he finally removes the finger, grabs my hips, and pounds into me.

“Drive into me, Harry!” I scream, recognizing the golf pun after it’s already left my mouth. Biting my lip, I reach in front and play with my clit just as Harry shoots his load into me, and I writhe with my second orgasm, his name on my lips as he falls onto my back.

Seconds, minutes, decades later, Harry disengages from me.

“That was pleasant,” he smiles, and I wonder if this is it. He’ll leave me here, his cum dripping from me onto the furniture in my granddad’s golf room. “We should probably get dressed and get back to the course. Otherwise, they’ll send out a search party. If we get back quickly, they’ll think we just took our time on the 18th.”

Agreeably, I laugh. “I can see it now.” Imitating my grandma, “‘But our baby girl is out there with a handsome stranger! They must be exhausted after 18 holes!’”

Together, we dissolve into giggles at the innuendo as we sort through the discarded clothing and dress ourselves, making our way back to the garage as we locate our shirts.

“You better drive us back. I’m likely to get lost in your tall bush.”

“Oh, please,” I roll my eyes. “My grass is perfectly trimmed for the game.”

“Mhm,” he smirks, “Who’s your caddy?”

We pull into the parking lot, laughing at our ridiculous puns. Removing our golf bags from the trunk, we make our way into the clubhouse where we quickly locate and join my grandparents.

“How were the last few holes?” Gramps asks.

“Pretty good,” Harry grins, glancing over at me. “I got both a Birdy and a hole in one.”

I want to laugh at his comment, but any suggestion that we did anything other than play golf would get me in trouble, so I simply smile, nod, and announce, “It was quite the round. The best I’ve had in a long time, by par.”

When everyone at the table howls with mirth, I feel Harry’s hand on my knee as my grandfather speaks up with, “Harry? I think you might be missing a number on your scorecard.” When he winks and gestures towards me, I groan, but my latest lover takes advantage of the moment, holding out his scorecard to me.

“If you wouldn’t mind…I might need another hole in one the next time I come to town.”

Reblogs are love. Thank you.

#harry styles #my writing #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles golf #original writing #harry styles reader insert #harry styles imagine

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jungkussyficrecs · 2 years

Text

Stroke Game - KTH

Summary: Teasing Taehyung while he's playing golf has consequences.

Warnings: Grinding, Face fucking, one wittle cock slap but it's actually a tap, unprotected sex, creampie, dom! taehyung, teasing, blue balls.

Masterlist

A/N: Idk something about this video on insta just.... uh anyway

Disclaimer: I know absolutely nothing about golf. So if anything is wrong please don’t read me for it! We all know none of us are here for the golfing.

There’s something about watching Taehyung golf that is indescribably attractive. Golf isn’t attractive, but watching as he sets up his stance for his stroke is. He has shorts on today, long tan legs spread and feet shuffling back and forth until he finds the perfect spot. His strong arms hold the golf club as he lines up his swing. And then he reaches all the way back, follows through, and the ball soars through the air. He has this cocky aura after he sees that it’s a good shot, and tosses his hair back. It’s growing longer, and the long black and wavy hair is a good look on him during the summer when he’s getting tanner. He looks nothing shy of gorgeous.

You wait until you see Jimin stop recording for Tae’s instagram story before you call out,

‘Nice job Taehyungie.’

He’s walking your way and shoots you a crooked smile,

‘You gonna try, jagi?’ You throw him a knowing glare and kick your leg out at him,

‘We both know golf isn’t my strong suit.’ You mutter

He catches your foot in his hands and quickly unties your shoelace, an ongoing battle between the two of you. He tries to walk closer to you but you press your foot flat against his stomach to stop him before whining,

‘I’m not any good Taehyungie, just leave me to ogle at you from over here.’ He laughs at this and manages to walk around your foot. He grabs your hand and pulls you up from your seat

‘I’ll help you come on.’ He tugs you toward the tee and hands you a club. You’re still glaring at him while he moves things around you. He pauses and smiles down at you and then gives you a small kiss followed by a sharp slap on the ass. Jimin cracks up from his seat and you roll your eyes at him

‘You’re next, Jiminie.’ And he mocks being scared at being forced to play golf again by Taehyung. Neither you nor Jimin were particularly interested in the sport, but you both love Taehyung, so you’re willing to entertain his hobby. For now.

Jin and Hobi are watching too, each of them taking turns as they please. Hoseok is less interested in golf than Jin and Taehyung, but he always brightens the mood by cracking jokes.

‘Let’s go, __!’ Hoseok yells and then promptly throws his legs over Jimin’s lap and his arms around his shoulders while aggressively rocking him back and forth.

Taehyung brings your attention back to him, and places his hands on your hips,

‘Line your feet up with mine and make sure your stance is comfortable.’ He says quietly against your ear. His large hands are set on your hips, and he starts to slide them forward over your lower abdomen in an attempt to tease you,

‘I don’t think that area is very important to golf Babe.’ He huffs out a laugh in your ear in response before pulling you hips back against his front,

‘Didn’t you know Jagi? Golf is a full body sport.’ His voice has gotten a little deeper and quieter. His satoori always becomes a little more obvious when he’s speaking in a sultry tone. You can feel his breath against the shell of your ear. In retaliation you swivel your hips back against his crotch where you can feel just the slightest stirrings of excitement. He takes a sharp intake of breath, ‘Now I’m pretty sure that isn’t necessary.’ He punctuates his statement with a squeeze to your hips.

‘Well I’ve been watching you golf and you always do the cutest little booty wiggle when you’re trying to figure out your stance, so I’m just taking advice from the best.’ You say innocently.

Instead of a response to your obvious teasing, he lightly trails his hands down your arms to your hands. He readjusts your grip for you. You’re letting him do all the work for you, getting comfortable in the warmth of his arms while suggestively pressing your hips back against his. He’s guiding the swing of your arms to set up your stroke, and you think he’s going to help you all the way while you continue to tease him, but before you can follow through with the lining up of the club and hit the ball, he pauses the movement of your arms. The breath that you’d heard against your ear pauses, and he ever so slowly licks up the shell of your ear, and then he lightly tugs on your lobe with his teeth before murmuring,

‘Good luck Jagi.’ and then the warmth and guiding of his body is gone from behind you. Turning around with what you can only assume is the most dumbstruck look on your face. Jimin and Hoseok burst into laughter from their seats, and Taehyung is standing a few feet behind you. His arms are crossed and he has a smug smirk resting on his lips.

You turn back to the tee and mindlessly swing, not really caring about how far it goes. It goes a little farther than expected, not good by any means, but not terrible.

Taehyung walks back up to you, ‘Good job, __’

You roll your eyes at him and push his club into his chest before walking back to your seat next to Jimin. He leans toward you once you sit down,

‘I felt like I was watching porn.’ he whispers. You smack him on the arm and turn away from him,

‘It was not that bad.’ You mutter.

‘It was pretty bad.’ Hoseok pipes up from the other side of Jimin. You roll your eyes at them before turning your attention back to your boyfriend. He’s just finished another stroke,

‘Nice stroke Babe.’ You cheer him on.

‘You like my stroke game Jagi?’ He teases from behind the tee.

‘Oh my god.’ You groan, and this sets the other three boys off once again.

He comes back over to sit by you and rests his hand on your thigh while Jin goes again. Jimin and Hobi have seemingly lost interest in the game and are just watching from their seats.

You decide to ignore Taehyung after all his teasing and turn to lean your head on Jimin’s shoulder,

‘Jagiya,’ Taehyung murmurs from beside you, tugging on your thigh to try and turn your attention back to him.

‘Go work on your stroke game Taehyungie.’ You mumble jokingly.

‘I’d much rather work on my stroke game with you.’ You can tell he tries to keep his laugh in but it doesn’t work very well. Before he can say anything else it’s his turn again, and he stands up and walks away.

‘You know, I never knew my Taehyungie was so good at flirting.’ Jimin says from where his head is resting on top of yours.

‘Please, we literally watched him flirt with himself on stage everyday when he was performing Singularity.’ You say back.

You can feel the shaking of Jimin’s shoulders under your head as Taehyung shoots you a glare from his spot in front of you. You stick your tongue out at him, and he does the same thing in return.

After his stroke, he sets his club down and walks up to you,

‘Wanna go grab a drink with me?’ He asks. You nod and stand up with him, the other three boys yelling drink orders at the two of you. He waves dismissively at them and then grabs your hand to walk with you. Instead of turning left toward the bar, he pulls you to the right,

‘Babe, I’m pretty sure the bar’s that way.’ You remind him.

‘I know.’ He responds. It’s then that you see the direction he’s headed. The handicapped bathroom at the end of the hallway.

Taehyung had a track record of trying to sneak you away for small moments or quickies when you were in public. The one thing that you’ve learned about him through the years of your relationship is that, when it comes to intimacy, he is not a patient man.

Taehyung opens the door and pulls you inside, quickly locking the door behind you. He presses you against the door and before you can even say anything, his lips are pressed against yours. His hands are wandering down your sides until they reach the back pockets of your jeans. He slides his hands into your pockets, and after giving your backside a quick squeeze, he pushes your hips forward so they meet his. Your hands are behind his head, fingers lightly tugging on the hairs at the nape of his neck. He breaks the kiss for a moment, breathing heavily,

‘You drive me crazy, Jagi.’

Instead of responding you guide his lips back to yours, lightly tracing your tongue against his bottom lip to gain access to his. He slides his hand farther down and hitches one of your legs up around his waist. His hips roughly press against yours, and behind the loose fabric of his shorts, you can feel how hard he is. You reach down and palm his cock, and his hips stutter from their sensual grinding, as he lets out a deep groan into your mouth.

You wrap your fingers around the outline of him from the outside of his shorts. Even beneath the layers of cloth between your skin, you can feel just how hot and hard he is.

When you tighten your grip around his cock and start jerking him faster, he moves his head into the crook of your neck and drops your leg from around his waist. He’s mouthing wet kisses against your neck and letting out small groans and words of encouragement. His hips are thrusting into the grip you have on his cock, and he reaches down to tighten your hand around him. Instead of continuing with the pace he directed, you remove your hand from him altogether. When you do this, his head jerks back, and he lets out a small noise of complaint. Before he can say anything, you drop down onto your knees in front of him. He smiles at you and traces his finger along your lips, ‘You’re amazing __’

His voice has gotten deeper and he still sounds out of breath. You lean forward and start to press open mouthed kisses against his cock. His hand presses against the back of your head, encouraging you. Finding the tip of his cock, you start to suck through the thin fabric, tongue tracing over where you know he’s leaking for you. He’s starting to get impatient, and he reaches up to start undoing his belt.

Just as he finishes popping the button on his shorts, you reach down and pull the shoelaces on both of his shoes to get him back for earlier. He’s too distracted to know any better, but instead of continuing, you stand up in front of him. He looks at you surprised, and he’s just about voice his confusion when you tell him,

‘Now’s a perfect time to work on your stroke game, Babe. Oh and don’t forget to tie your shoes.’

And before he can even say anything in response, you turn, unlock the door, and walk out to go to the other boys.

When you take your seat next to Jimin he turns and asks,

‘Where’s Taehyungie?’

‘He’s in the bathroom.’ You respond quickly.

Jimin squints his eyes at you and looks suspicious. You see his eyes glance down to your most likely red and swollen lips,

‘And was he in the bathroom alone, Miss __?’ He teases you, bumping his shoulder against yours.

‘We’ll never know.’ You respond smugly.

Soon after, Taehyung walks back to you, drinks in hand. He hands everyone else theirs first, and when he goes to give you yours, he leans down and whispers in your ear,

‘You’ll pay for that, baby.’

You don’t say anything in response. He has that look in his eye, and you know not to tease him back this time.

. . .

You’ve arrived back in your hotel room, and you're shaking with anticipation. Taehyung was unusually quiet the rest of the day. He was talking normally with the other members, but when it came to you, he gave quick and short responses. Now he wasn’t mad, you were able to tell that much, but he was planning something, and his silence was all a part of the build up.

After entering your shared room, he quickly walks into the bathroom and pauses in the doorway, ‘Clothes off.’ Is all he says before walking inside and shutting the door, something he rarely ever did when it was just the two of you.

You quickly strip and sit on the bed and wait for him to return, and it only takes a moment before he’s walking right back out. He’d taken his shirt off in the bathroom, and when he’s approaching, you take time to admire how much he’s been working out.

His stomach is more toned, and his arms are definitely getting bigger. He’s always gorgeous, but you can tell that toning up a little makes him much more confident, and his confidence is what is so attractive about him.

He stands directly in front of you, and that’s when you realize you're seeing his eyes for the first time that day. He’d been wearing dark sunglasses most of the day, so you hadn’t seen them much. He’s staring directly into your eyes, and it’s almost intimidating with the way his gaze is unwavering.

‘Take my shorts off, gorgeous.’ He demands softly.

Taehyung is a simple man. He has three moods in bed. The first is soft Taehyung. There are no power dynamics, just two people loving and being intimate. The Second, is soft dom. Taehyung takes the lead, but there’s nothing harsh about the way he dominates you. There’s soft words and gentle touches. And then there’s full dom Taehyung. It’s rough and hard, but you love every minute of it. Someone else may confuse his demand and pet name for soft dom Tae, but you’re well aware that this is just the beginning.

You reach forward to undo his belt, and after it’s undone, you pull it through the loops and set it beside you. Reaching forward, you undo his button and drag his shorts and underwear down his legs. He steps out of them and kicks them aside. As much as he’s trying to act dominant and controlling, there are little tells of impatience in his body language. Just as you’re going to reach for his cock, he smacks your hands away,

‘You lost that privilege with the stunt you pulled earlier. Now be a good girl and open your mouth for me.’ He says. His fingers have a tight grip on your chin and he grabs his cock and traces your lips with the tip, smearing his precum over your lips. He taps the side of your cheek with his cock to remind you of his instructions, and you follow, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out for him to use,

‘Good girl.’ He mutters.

He takes the tips of his cock and lays it on your tongue. Thrusting his hips lightly so that the underside of him is rubbing inside your mouth, you cup your tongue slightly to suck on his cock. All of his movements halt, and he leaves your mouth,

‘You only do what I tell you.’ He pauses for a moment, gauging your reaction, ‘Now, I’m gonna fuck your throat baby, and I’m gonna use you as much as I want. You know what to do if it gets too much.’

And with that he’s thrusting back inside your mouth, cock all the way down your throat. You’re gagging immediately. With no warm up, your throat protests against the intrusion. He pulls back slightly to let you breathe. Then, he’s sliding back down your throat. Your nose is pressed against his pubic bone, little hairs lightly tickling you.

Risking a glance up at him, his head is thrown back. The veins in his neck are taught, and you can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He’s already worked up from earlier, and the feeling of your throat around him must be overwhelming.

After a few moments, his hips are retreating and then snapping back into your mouth. Your eyes are watering, but the groan he lets out is worth the burning in your throat,

‘Such a perfect little mouth for me.’ He grunts out. His palms are pressed firmly to your cheeks to keep your head in place while his pace increases. You can’t help but clench your thighs at the sensation. The way he’s grunting causes wetness to pool between your legs. There’s a light sheen covering his tanned skin from the exertion, and it makes him seem like he’s almost glowing.

His hips are starting to stutter and his grunts are turning into choked gasps, telltale signs that he’s close. He pushes all the way down your throat and then tilts your head slightly so you’re looking at him,

‘You look so pretty with my cock down your throat, baby.’ He tells you while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He pulls out of your mouth and gives you a moment to catch your breath.

Then, he reaches for your arm and pulls you up so you’re standing. He’s quickly bringing your mouth to his and entangling his tongue with yours.

Taehyung kisses in a way that words can barely describe. He’s passionate but also cocky in the way he moves his lips, and there’s dominance in the way his tongue dances with yours. He pulls away and looks down at you,

‘Hands against the mirror, legs spread, and I don’t want to hear a word out of this pretty little mouth.’ And then he’s pushing you toward the full length mirror against the wall. You follow his directions and look up into the mirror to see his eyes tracing down the length of your body. He places his hands on your hips and his chest molds to your back. You can feel his cock poking your ass from behind. His hands pull your hips back toward him and then one of them slowly makes its way toward your opening. His fingers dip into the arousal that’s been pooling between your legs before he brings it back up to trace slow circles around your clit,

‘My baby is so wet for me. Does getting your throat fucked turn you on that much.’ He tsks. He starts to circle his fingers faster, and your legs are shaking with the shocks of pleasure running through you. He dips his fingers back down and pushes two inside,

‘I was gonna get you ready for my cock, but you’re dripping Jagi. I don’t think you even need it.’

You look back up to meet his eyes in the mirror and shake your head, obeying his request to be quiet. It’s then that he removes his fingers from your pussy, and reaches down to grasp his cock. You can see his arm moving in the mirror, giving himself a few, quick strokes before guiding his tip to rest right at your entrance. Then without warning he pushes all the way in. Your mouth drops open at the sensation, there will never be a day where you’ll get used to the way he fills you up. Long and thick, hitting all the right places inside of you with just one thrust. He’s resting his head on your shoulder, letting out shallow breaths. Both of you are so worked up, you’re aware this is going to be quick.

Then his hands firmly grasp your hips, and he’s pulling back slowly before quickly thrusting forward. There’s no gradual buildup to his pace, he switches to pounding into you from behind immediately. His hips are slapping against your ass and he’s letting out grunts and small moans of your name between his labored breaths. You love the times when Taehyung is so overwhelmed by pleasure that he doesn’t take the time to use any specific rhythm. He just hammers into you from behind, the angle creating the perfect way for him to hit your G spot repeatedly.

You drop your head down to look at the floor, struggling to keep your moans contained. You’re biting your lips raw trying to keep the noise at bay. It’s when Taehyung reaches down to place the heel of his hand against your clit that your hips start twitching. The powerful thrusts of his hips send yours forward causing you to grind against his hand.

‘Go ahead, baby. I know you wanna cum for me.’ He says breathlessly, ‘I’m right behind you. Gonna fill this pussy up.’

The pressure in your stomach is quickly building, and you reach down and grab his wrist as you near your climax.

You can feel the stuttering of his hips as he approaches his peak, and with a few more sharp snaps you reach your peak, and that building pressure snaps.

‘Taehyungie,’ You can’t help but moan out. Pussy clenching around his cock. He keeps rubbing your clit to help you down, but the pace of his hips continues. He’s losing the rhythm he had previously, groans of your name filling the air, and with one thrust, he’s pushing all the way inside you. You can feel the twitch of his cock while he fills you up. He gives a few short thrusts to push his cum back inside. His head falls onto your shoulder and he lets out a soft laugh,

‘Damn.’

You laugh with him, ‘I don’t think I can feel my legs.’

He pulls out slowly, half hard cock falling out of you along with some of his cum. He turns you around and places soft kisses on your lips before picking you up to carry you over to the bed. He looks down at you fondly and sweetly attaches your lips once more before getting up to head to the bathroom. You hear the sink turn on before he returns to clean up the mess he left between your legs,

‘You need to go pee.’ He punctuates the sentence with a few taps on your butt. You grumble at him but know he’s right, so you make your way into the bathroom to do your business. You head back to the bed and throw on his t-shirt on the way. Taehyung is already snuggled under the covers with one corner lifted up waiting for you. Climbing into bed with him and tucking yourself up against his chest, you’re just getting ready to fall asleep when he disturbs you,

‘What do you think about my stroke game now?’ He mumbles into your ear. You throw your hand over his face and push him away from you while he’s cracking up,

‘Oh my god. I hate you.’ You mumble into your pillow.

‘I love you.’ He sing-songs back to you, gathering you into his arms and pressing your back against his chest.

‘I love you too, I guess.’

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untilthenexttee · 9 months

Photo

(via BLUE TEES GOLF ANNOUNCES PRE-ORDER DATES FOR GPS TOUCH SPEAKER - PLAYER+)

#golf #golfers #gofer #golfing #golf website #golf blog #golf tumblr #blue tees golf #player + speaker #fightandgrind #the next tee

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misshoneyimhome · 1 month

Note

William silently cursed as he saw you. "She has a great ass, but she got an awful swing." With a chuckle from his friend. Willam's head turned to give him a furious look. With a defensive gesture, his friend raised his hands and backed away. "Hey man, relax. I'm just complimenting her". Willy is the type to admire his girl and try to "teach" her some golfing lessons.

😍😍😍 I swear my cooch skipped a beat just by the mere thought of this 🙈 Almost got jealous of my own fic... not cause it was so well written, but just by imagining the scenario 🤍

I mean, Willy teaching you to golf, AND possesive!boyfriend Willy? Sign me up 🥴 I hope you enjoy it 🤍

Word count; 1.7K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Swing It Like It’s Hot | William Nylander 🖋️☀️

The Swedish summer sun cast a golden hue over the lush greenery of the golf course as William guided you to the first tee. It was the off-season, a break from the demands of professional hockey, and he had promised to give you a golf lesson. Or perhaps more suggested for you to join, since he really wanted to play with his friends.

It wasn’t a secret that you weren’t a great golfer. Well, in fact you’d never really tried in before, so when William said that you were coming along you naturally demanded that he’d teach you. And he happily obliged.

Standing in front of him, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness as you held the club tightly. Meanwhile Pablo and Banksy, bounded ahead with wagging tails, eagerly exploring, accompanied by William's best friend Rasmus Sandin, one of his best friends, and brother Alex Nylander, as well as his new flirt.

Taking in the scene, the laughter and camaraderie were infectious, and despite your nerves, you couldn't help but smile as you prepared for your first swing.

With a patient smile, William walked you through the basics, demonstrating the proper stance and grip. His body was firmly pressed against yours as his arms wrapped around your smaller figure guided the movement, before encouraging you to give it a try. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you prepared to strike the ball.

It was needless to say; you didn’t even know where the ball landed. Your swing wasn’t great, and you knew it.

As you stood at the next tee, determined to make a better shot, William's encouraging presence bolstered your resolve. His arm on your waist was both comforting and motivating, reminding you that all you needed was some practice at this sport.

"It's alright, älskling," William's calm voice reached your ears, his Swedish endearment melting away some of the frustration that had built up inside you. "You're doing fine. Just relax and enjoy it."

His words were soothing to your frazzled nerves, and you couldn't help but offer a grateful smile in return. You knew you had nothing to prove as it was all fun and games, yet you also wanted to show your boyfriend that you made an effort to join him in his interests. And despite the challenges, finding comfort in the simple joy of being with him amidst the stunning Swedish countryside lifted your spirits. You then focused intensely on recalling William's guidance, determined to make this attempt a success.

Observing you from a small distance, William and Rasmus provided silent encouragement as you readied yourself for another swing. Despite any earlier frustration, there was a tenderness in William's gaze as he watched you, silently acknowledging your effort.

Taking a deep breath, you blocked out all distractions, focusing solely on the ball, and with determination pulsing through you, you swung the club with all you might.

The result was a little bit better this time, however what caught William off guard, was when Rasmus’ friend suddenly made a comment. "She has a great ass, but she got an awful swing," he remarked with a playful smirk in their native language.

Immediately, William's head snapped towards him, his blue eyes narrowing with a mix of irritation and protectiveness. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck tensing as he gave his friend a stern glare. "Watch it," he warned, his voice low and tinged with annoyance.

Sensing the tension, the mare raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture, stepping back. "Hey man, relax. I'm just complimenting her," he said defensively, trying to defuse the situation.

Though William's glare softened a bit, the tension hung heavy in the air. He knew his friend meant no harm, but his protective instincts flared at any perceived slight toward you. With a sigh, he turned back to you, silently resolving to help you with your swing while also making a mental note to speak to Rasmus later.

And with the playful comment, William remained steadfast in his commitment to coach you through the game. Throughout the day, he consciously tried to push aside Rasmus's remark and focused solely on helping you enhance your golfing abilities. However, despite his initial determination to stay composed, there was a noticeable change in his demeanour.

His touches became more frequent, his guidance more intimate, as he enveloped you in his arms each time you prepared to swing. With each embrace, you could feel the warmth of his body against yours, his closeness serving as both solace and encouragement.

“It’s okay, Willy. I’ve got this,” you chucked, indicating that you were feeling more confident about your game. But William didn’t let you wander too much in your own. Instead, he stayed close, upscaling his flirting behaviour a little with every move.

“I know baby, but you just look so good golfing… can’t take my hands off you,” he chuckled with a mischievous grin by the next tee, placing a kiss just behind your ear before gently biting your earlobe.

“Willy… there are other people here,” you tried to inform him with a soft sigh, yet you couldn’t deny that it was a little fun to have your boyfriend’s hands on you. He always knew how to make you feel good, and when his lips gently placed a few more kisses on your neck before withdrawing, you had to shake your head to get back to reality.

Then as you continued your way, amidst playful banter and shared laughter, William teased you about your progress, his jests accompanied by whispered promises of what awaited you later if you managed to refine your swing.

"You're doing so great, baby," he murmured against your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Just wait until we get back home, and you’ll get your prize."

His words stirred a rush of excitement within you, igniting a fierce desire simmering just beneath the surface. Beyond the playful banter, his gaze held an undeniable intensity, a hunger that spoke volumes of his longing for you.

“Maybe… I’ll show you how well I can handle your club,” you teasingly remarked in return with a dash of confidence, flashing a smirk and a wink at your boyfriend before strutting to pick up your next ball.

William had to adjust his junk as he filled the blood rush through his body by your behaviour and the thoughts of the two of you alone later.

As the day drew to a close and the sun dipped below the horizon, you all concluded the game; William taking the lead followed closely by Sandin. Surprisingly, you managed to outscore Alex by two points, with Rasmus's friend trailing behind, and finally Alex's current girlfriend finishing last.

It had been a day filled with nothing but laughter and enjoyment. However, amidst the fun, you couldn't help but notice William's possessiveness. While you understood your boyfriend's inclination to be protective, his behaviour seemed a bit excessive, especially considering you were simply among friends, including Alex, who was technically family but also William's best friend.

And as you drove along the highway towards Stockholm, your attention turned to William, whose gaze remained fixed on the road ahead.

"Willy, take it easy, there's no need to speed," you tried to lighten the mood with a soft chuckle, but he didn't respond to your comment, his focus solely on the road. "Babe, what's the rush?"

William briefly turned his glare towards you, his mind seemingly elsewhere, before easing off the accelerator slightly. "Oh... nothing," he replied tersely, but you knew him too well to leave it at that and decided to probe further.

"We both know that's not true..." you raised an eyebrow, knowing he could sense your tone and see your expression out of the corner of his eye. "Come on, you didn't even want to join the others for dinner."

"Well, no," he admitted with a heavy sigh. "I just want to get home."

"I understand that, but I'm struggling to understand why... we had such a great day, didn't we?" You attempted to offer him a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah... I mean, yes, absolutely... it's just," William murmured softly, searching for the right words to express his thoughts.

"Are you upset because I didn't do well?" you asked gently, prompting William to glance at you with a surprised expression.

"What? No, not at all. Baby, you did amazing! I'm seriously impressed."

"Then what's bothering you? Willy, I can't help if you don't tell me what's going on..." Frustration started to bubble up within you as your patience wore thin.

And finally releasing a deep sigh, William mustered the courage to speak. "Rasmus's friend made a comment about you, and it got under my skin."

"Oh..." You felt a bit puzzled. Didn’t William's friends like you? Were you just seen as the annoying girlfriend tagging along? The thought crossed your mind. "Well, I'm sorry if I was intruding on your guy time..." you apologised softly.

"What? No, babe, that's not what I meant!" William quickly clarified, not wanting you to think for a moment that you were unwelcome. After all, he was the one who invited you along. "No, what I meant was that he made a comment about your ass... and I don't want him to look anywhere near your ass! Especially not right in front of me!"

As you listened to William, you struggled to form a coherent response. Was he genuinely jealous over some comment about your ass?

As William eased off the highway, his demeanour gradually relaxed. His gaze briefly met yours while waiting for the traffic lights to change.

"What?" he asked, surprised by your calm expression, expecting you to be offended by the sexual remark.

"Are you serious?" you chuckled softly. "Willy, did you really get jealous because Rasmus's friend complimented my ass? Because, of course, I have a nice ass... we both know that," you said, trying to flash a confident smirk. "Besides, it's an ass you get to enjoy, one that he doesn't, and one you'll get to see in all its glory when you give me my prize, as promised."

William couldn't help but feel a twinge of arousal at your words. Why was he even so worked up over this? You were his, and he knew it. Plus, he loved the fact that others admired you too, especially knowing he had you all to himself.

Then slowly forming a smirk of his own, he turned to you once more. "Oh babe, you deserve far more than just a prize."

And to your great surprise, you received four prizes that night. And then two more in the morning.

#my asks #wn88 imagine #william nylander imagine #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine

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sturniololoco · 3 months

Text

Can’t hate you pt 2

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) X Nathan Doe

Warnings: Cussing, hitting, mentions of SA later in the series(and no, it was not Nate), etc.

ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩

SLS/N’s POV

I woke up this morning to what felt like a monkey on my bed, only to find out that it was Chris, jumping up and down.

“Get up loser, we’re going to get food!” He yells, giving me a wet-willy before sprinting out of my room.

“Aw-you mother fucker!” I yell, jumping out of my bed to chase him down the stairs.

I see him up ahead, rounding the corner to the kitchen. I do the same, but instead of finding Chris, I find myself running straight into what felt like a brick wall.

“Fuck…” I say under my breath, rubbing my head where I made contact.

I hear Chris laughing from behind the island, and I shoot him the middle finger.

I look up to see what I made contact with, only to be met with the grey-blue eyes of Nate.

He hold out a hand to help me up, but I scoff, ignoring his hand while stand and brush myself off.

My head still hurt immensely as I walked into the kitchen, giving Chris the biggest side eye I could.

“Well isn’t someone just a bundle of joy this morning?” Nate says, resting his chin on his hand while he leans on the island, looking at me.

I roll my eyes, scoff again, then walk upstairs to get ready.

I walk downstairs, hair curled, makeup perfect, and dressed in a pair of cargo jeans and a baby tee.

Yes, I feel like a boss bitch, and yes, everyone knows imma boss bitch.

“Okay sis! I see you!” Nick says, giving me a twirl. I laugh then look to the living room to see Chris and Matt golf clapping. But Nate is just staring, his moth half open.

What the fuck is his problem?

I ignore him and follow my brothers to the car, him close in behind.

"SLS/N, just sit in the middle today, there's no point in putting the seat down for a 10-minute drive," Matt says, climbing into the car and starting it.

Oh my fucking god, why is this happening to me?!

Not wanting to start problems, I sigh then get in, ick on my right, Nate unfortunately on my left.

The whole ride there his thigh was uncomfortably close to mine, so it was a huge relief when Matt pulled into the IHOP parking lot.

We got out and then got checked into a booth near the back of the restaurant. Before anyone could argue, I called sitting in the middle of Matt and Chris.

We got settled in our booth, and then Nick started to pull out his phone and make an Instagram post.

it said, What poses do you want for our next photo shoot?

"We're doing a photoshoot?" Matt asked, already not looking forward to it.

"Yes Mat. and you're not gonna have a Mattitude about it," Nick said, giving him a stern look. I giggled at how well he knew my brother.

Before Matt could come back with an answer, our waitress came over, asking what we wanted to drink.

"I'll just have water please," I said quietly, then she walked away.

Chris poked me in the rib, using a baby voice while he said,

"Aww, is somebody a wittle shy?" The whole table burst into giggles, all but me, whose face had gone hot and was now punching Chris in the arm.

"Ow, SLS/N!" He whined as his laughing stopped.

"Aww, does someone need me to call the ambulance?" I asked, giving him a baby voice of my own.

Now it was his turn to go red, as Nick reached across the table, fist bumping me. What can I say, I learned my comebacks from the best.

As we climbed back into the back, we were all deciding what to wear for the photo shoot.

"I think we should all wear merch," Chris said.

We all nodded in agreement, heading home to get ready.

By the time we were all ready, the camera was charged, and we were ready to go, it was beginning to get dark. We drove to McDonalds, grabbing some drinks before driving around to find the place to shoot.

We decided to head the the parking garage down the street, as it had the best lighting.

We found a spot where there were no cars. Nick scrolled through his responses, looking for poses.

We took alot of photos. some with just the triplets, some with one of them individually, and then some duets.

One of my favorites where the one where I was on Chris's back while he was racing down the drive.

Nate got some as well, posing with Chris and Matt, then some individuals for his own Instagram.

Then Nick said the worst news I ever wanted to hear.

"Alot of fans want some pics of SLS/N and Nate. We should do those real quick."

I whipped my head around to stare at him, giving him wide eyes. He gave me a pleading look, begging me with his eyes.

I rolled my own, mumbling,

"Let's just get this over with."

We took a few next to each other, our arms around each other's backs in a side hug.

Our next pose was us standing back to back, holding up our sweet teas,, while death staring at the camera.

"These are so good! Hold still for two more seconds." Nick said, getting lower to take the shot.

Matt and Chris sent knowing smirks in my direction, making me angrier and angrier by the second.

"You better smile, kid. Wouldn't want people thinking I look better than the princess." Nate said under his breath, in my direction.

That sent me over the edge.

I pushed myself off of his back as I whipped around. I tore the lid of my sweet tea and threw it at him.

He was completely soaked.

"Fuck this shit!" I yelled, walking towards the stairs leading to the sidewalk outside of the building that led to our house, leaving the boys there to stare at my retreating figure.

I walked all the way home and up to my room, slamming my door before collapsing on my bed. My face was still burning with anger,

or was I blushing?

OooooooOooooooo!!!

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq @idkhowtosleep

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo sister x reader #sturniolo sister #nathan doe smut #nathan doe x reader #nathan doe

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hydrngea · 1 year

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fic recommendation library!!!

just a little appreciation for my fellow writers out there 💓💓💓 hope you all love these fics like i do! will be adding more as i get time to organize links lol

-> back to navigation

series

literally her whole masterlist but specifically so gorgeous it actually hurts | rafe cameron | @folkloreslovechild

blue eyes and bruises | rafe cameron | @tee-swizzle

one shots

sleepy head | jj maybank | @maybankslover

friending for something might just be a meaning |jj maybank | @idcntlikedarkness

jj teaching you how to kiss | jj maybank | @onsunnyside

whipped | rafe cameron | @mrsstarkey1

don’t go breaking my heart | rafe cameron | @mrsstarkey1

golf and it’s perks | rafe cameron | @poguesworld

clingy rafe | rafe cameron | @a-aexotic

one baby | rafe cameron @fantasylandloser

#fic recs #rafe cameron #jj maybank #obx #drew starkey #rafe cameron fic #withbeautyandrage.ficreccs #rafe cameron x you #jjk x you

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roosterforme · 5 months

Text

How You Play the Game Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was miserable without you, and the pain just wasn't lessening even though you left him weeks ago. He needed to find a way to move on, because you didn't want him, and you weren't coming back. But he should have known there was no substitute for the best thing he'd ever had.

Warnings: Swears, broken heart, angst, consensual sex, sex with a condom while intoxicated (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Weeks later...

As you flew to Vancouver from Detroit, you thought about that six hour flight to Boston where you hadn't stopped crying for a single minute. You thought about leaving San Diego and how it broke your heart to move on to the next city and the next assignment. At least this time you had a window seat instead of the middle seat in the last row. And this time you weren't continually wiping your tears on Bradley's Padres jersey.

You had his jersey on again today, but this time you felt calm as you reached into your bag to take out your computer and read over the research you'd outlined about the Vancouver Canucks. Your eyes caught on the blue golf ball, and after a second of hesitation, you reached for that instead.

You'd taken it everywhere with you. It joined you in every hotel room, on every flight and in every rental car. You had it with you in your tote bag when you were in Boston about a month ago working on the exclusive with the Bruins' coaching staff. You were carrying it when you bumped into Abigail Archer for the first time in person.

With your article completely forgotten now, you dug your phone out of your pocket. It was in airplane mode, but you took a deep breath and unlocked it. You had to scroll a bit to get to the text thread with Bradley, and then you tapped his name and you almost let the tears rise to the surface. You held them back as you read the series of sporadic messages he'd sent you since early November.

I miss you.

Did you make it to Boston safely?

Ace, please call me back. I miss you so much.

I have this whole weekend off, and I can't help but think it would be easy for me to fly to wherever you are. If you would want that.

I still miss you.

I hope you're doing well.

You hadn't responded to a single one of them. And you never called him back either. But sometimes, when you were in a hotel room in a city that you couldn't even identify without looking at your calendar app, you'd get lonely enough to listen to his voicemail message. See ya, Ace.

It took until you met Bradley Bradshaw for you to really understand just how lonely you were. Going back to your apartment in New York City didn't feel like going home. There was nothing there that made you smile. There were no baseball cards or too small Angels tee shirts. There was no Bradley making sure you were taking a break when you needed one.

And he was part of the reason why you let yourself start to be convinced that you could have more out of your career. Maybe he was right. Somebody else might have something better to offer than Greg or the New York Times. When you talked to Abigail and started to test the waters, it wasn't as terrifying as you thought it would be. Making some calls to see what else was out there ended up validating one fact for you: Bradley was right, your writing was in high demand.

But you had to complete your contract with Greg before you could do much else. And that included Detroit and Vancouver. But you hoped after this, your work-life balance might improve. If you decided to take this information back to Bradley, you hoped he would listen to you. Maybe he would even see what you wrote about your career change in your Detroit Red Wings article. If he was even still reading your articles. There was a chance he might still miss you now, and maybe he'd understand that you needed to see the bigger picture for yourself first.

Before you left him alone in his bed, he told you that you knew where to find him. He made you feel like it was still okay to go there.

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

Bradley walked past his coffee table dressed in his flight suit with his travel mug of coffee in his hand. He paused at the front door and looked back at the mess he still couldn't bring himself to clean up. You left him weeks ago, damn near a month ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to clean up all of the fucking baseball cards.

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He was being ridiculous. He was never ridiculous before he met you, so you must have made him this way. Every time he tried to clean them up and put them back out in his garage, his hands faltered and he left the cards out on the table. It was like some sort of sick reminder that you'd really been here with him. It was a way to convince himself he didn't imagine up the perfect woman in his mind and then have to live through the aftermath of watching her leave.

He tightened his fingers around his mug and rubbed the heel of his other hand against his eyes. Then he took his phone out. He knew he shouldn't do it since you never answered his other messages before, but he texted you anyway.

I hope you're doing well.

When he re-read what he'd sent, he started to panic. It sort of sounded like he meant it with an air of finality. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he didn't want to hear from you, because it was quite the opposite. There were times when he felt so lonely, he'd have done anything for you to write to him or call him back.

He swore he could still smell you in his house, and right now it felt a little too much like you were there. He wrenched his front door open and slammed it closed behind him, breathing in the crisp December morning air. He had to start making some changes, and he needed to do it this week. You weren't going to respond to him. After four weeks he should accept that as a fact and stop bugging you.

He'd been skipping Hard Deck nights and leaving the locker room after work without really talking to anyone. Nat knew why he was miserable, but even she seemed surprised it had gone on for this long.

A few days ago, she said, "You've never behaved like this over a woman before. This has all just been very surprising, and I don't know how to help you."

Bradley had shrugged and laughed sarcastically. "Well, I fell in love with her. First time for everything, right? I'll know better for next time."

And that was the truly fucked up part. He had fallen in love with you over the course of ten days. As he drove to work, he thought about your face and your voice. He knew exactly how many miles he put on his Bronco driving back and forth to see you at the games in Anaheim. He knew exactly how much money he spent on all the tickets. He knew how badly it hurt right now to be without you. And he knew he'd repeat everything all over again if he could see you for five minutes.

Just like every other day, he had to collect himself before he could head inside to the locker room. There was no getting his time with you back. There was no second chance. There was no communication. He needed to stop. He took off his aviators that you'd liked so much and set them in his cup holder. When he checked the time on his phone, he had a notification that a new article from you had been posted eight minutes ago. It was like this every day. He'd wait to see each morning if you'd written anything, and then after it was posted, he'd read it at least three times.

Your final World Series article was the worst one. It was released two days after you left. He must have read it a hundred times. He'd even take a screenshot of the short passage he was certain was about him.

This World Series was exciting and dynamic for so many reasons. We witnessed some of the best major league pitching in the last decade, and there were more stolen bases than the past three finals combined. Professionally, I may never witness anything like this again. And I can even tell you that on a personal level, I was profoundly changed for the better by everything I allowed myself to experience and enjoy between San Diego and Anaheim over the course of the series.

Bradley looked at his phone screen now. It had to stop. He desperately wanted to read your article on the Detroit Red Wings, but he needed to make this feeling stop. It was like he was constantly in pain every time he thought about you or even simply read your name on his phone. Your written words were never going to help him move on, so he needed to do something about it right now while he felt like he could.

He deleted the New York Times app. He thought about deleting your number as well, but he needed to save some of his strength to get through his workday. So he just tucked his phone in his pocket and climbed out of the Bronco.

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

When Bradley walked into the Hard Deck on Friday night after work, he felt defeated and exhausted. He managed to delete the app you wrote for, but he still couldn't bring himself to delete your phone number. Moving on was a necessity right now. He didn't even know why he bothered to come to the bar, but staying home and looking at baseball cards on his coffee table didn't seem to be helping him.

"You're here!" Nat called out as soon as he walked inside. The bar was decorated for Christmas. Was it that close to the holidays? He'd completely lost track of the weeks, but at the same time, he knew exactly how many days it had been since he'd seen you. His mind was too aware of that number, and it tacked a new one on each day.

"Hey," Bradley managed to grunt when his friend came over to him and wrapped him up in a hug. The Christmas tree and the strings of lights blurred, and he had to close his eyes. He was missing the feel of your arms around him and the way you smelled. None of this was Nat's fault or anyone's fault really. Bradley didn't even blame you. He couldn't. You and he were nothing.

"Let me get you a drink," Nat whispered, and she took him by the hand. He recognized the upbeat Christmas song, and he saw the guys waving from the pool table. But when he turned to face the bar, Shannon was right there with her usual smile and a pint glass in her hand. He didn't know why he wasn't expecting her. The last time he saw her was when he brought you here, and he'd give anything to go back to that night.

Bradley just shook his head. "Something stronger. Please." Shannon raised one eyebrow at him and set the pint glass down in favor of a whiskey tumbler and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. "Yeah."

"Haven't seen you around in a few weeks," she said, watching the amber liquid slosh neatly up the side of the glass as she poured. "Kinda missed you." She met his eyes as she pushed the glass across the bar. "You look so sad."

He held eye contact with her, trying his best to push the intrusive thoughts away. "Maybe I'll be around more now," he muttered, downing the whole drink in one go and setting the glass down again.

Shannon was familiar to him. Comfortable. He'd been messing around with women for damn near two decades without any deep feelings. You were really his first foray into something... more. But you were gone. You didn't want to talk to him. You weren't coming back.

She refilled his glass and said, "Take this one a little slower, Bradley." He nodded before downing it just like the first one, and she kind of smirked and shook her head. "You'll pay for this in the morning."

He laughed sardonically. "That's the idea." He left the empty glass on the bar with a little nod indicating that he would be back. He desperately needed to clear his head, but he'd been trying everything for weeks. Taking a walk outside, having a cold shower, going for a drive. Nothing fucking helped.

He needed to forget the feel of your body and the sound of your voice. So he drank an extravagant amount of Johnnie Walker on Nat's tab, and he started to feel looser. He laughed at her when she asked how many he had so far.

"Don't worry. I'll pay you back," he rasped with a smile that he knew could charm every woman except for his best friend.

She just rubbed her hand up and down his arm and said, "I hope you know what you're doing. Let me know when you want me to get you home."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, Nat. Just fine." He finished his tumbler and tried to remember if that was his fifth or his sixth, but it didn't matter. He was warm now, and his lips were a little numb. This was exactly what he needed tonight. After he shot a round of pool and lost, he flipped through the jukebox, but it was all bullshit Christmas music. He wasn't in the mood. He thought about playing the piano, but there was an empty stool at the bar now, so he headed in that direction.

"One more?" Bradley asked Shannon as he sat, and she reached out to touch his cheek.

"You sure you really need one?"

"Yep," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat as she swam out of focus for a split second. "Just one more. It'll make it easier."

She turned away from him to get one more clean glass. Then she filled it for him. "Thanks, Shannon," he muttered when she set it down in front of him. He was leaning on his propped up hand, and he knew she was kind of pretty. But he knew you were prettier and funnier and smarter.

"You can't have what you want," he mumbled to himself after Shannon walked away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and just looked at the screen. Delete it. He had to. He opened his contacts, and there you were right at the fucking top.

Ace

You'd always be at the top, wouldn't you?

Instead of deleting your number, he sent you a text before he could reconsider.

Ace, I fell in love with you.

Fuck. Fuck! You didn't want him. And there was no way to take that message back now. He closed his eyes and shook his head, because he couldn't tell if he was about to cry or laugh. He was fucking miserable. Truly, he'd never experienced this before, and it hurt like hell. His thumb hovered over your name once again, but he couldn't delete it. He drank the whiskey and tried again. But still nothing.

He watched Shannon move around behind the bar. She wasn't you. She wasn't what he wanted, but when she announced that it was last call, she made her way over to him.

"But no more for you," she teased, reaching to take his glass away. But he had her wrist in his hand before he registered what he was doing. She looked a little surprised. The tears were in his eyes again, but maybe it wasn't so obvious to her. He couldn't say the words. He needed her to be the one. When he licked his lips, she leaned a little closer. "I'm done in fifteen. Are you interested? Or are you too drunk?"

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed. He needed to try to move on. The pain needed to stop, or else he didn't know what he would do. Right now he was numb enough. It was now or never. "I'm interested."

Bradley was very aware of what he was doing, it just vaguely seemed like someone else was doing it. He gave his keys to Shannon once they were outside. "Remember where I live?" he asked, walking toward the Bronco.

"Of course I do," she whispered.

He found himself with his back against the passenger side door with Shannon's lips on his. It felt fine. Would probably feel better the more he got used to it again. He could do this. He kissed her back and told her to drive, because he knew he shouldn't.

She drove and parked and took him by the hand, leading him inside his house. As soon as he saw the baseball cards, he wanted to upend his coffee table. He wanted to do this and get it over with and go to sleep for a week. And if he didn't feel better after that, then he didn't know what he was going to do.

When Shannon tried to turn on his bedroom light, he took her hand in his and guided it away from the switch. "Too bright," he mumbled, and she started to get undressed. He stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door. When he looked in the mirror, he'd never seen anything quite so pitiful. He splashed a little water on his face, but it just made his flushed cheeks stand out more. He dug around under the sink for some condoms he thought he still had. When his hand closed around the box, he sat back against the wall and cried.

He had no idea how long he was in the bathroom. He took his shirt off and used it to wipe his face. You didn't want him. He went back to his bedroom where Shannon was naked on his bed, her skin glowing in the light filtering in from the bathroom where he forgot to flip the switch off.

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. But she must have taken that as a sign that he was ready to go. He wasn't, but he told himself he was. She touched him, and he let her. She kissed him some more, and he let her do that, too. He reciprocated. He knew to do that much. But it didn't feel like anything. He fucked her, but it just wasn't right. And then he fell asleep with a throbbing head and an aching heart and the wrong woman next to him.

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

It had been years since Bradley had a hangover. When he opened his eyes, his left arm was hanging off of his bed, and his face was halfway smashed in his pillow. His mouth was completely dry, and he tried to press his lips together and swallow. He had no idea how he got home or what time it was.

"Oh, shit," he groaned. He texted you last night. When he was sitting at the bar. He was pretty sure he told you he fell in love with you. He knew you wouldn't write back. You must have blocked his number by now. He was probably texting nobody by this point, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't want him the way he wanted you.

Then he remembered what he did after he texted you, and the bile rose in his throat so quickly. Shannon was right there next to him when he turned his head. He let her sleep over. He never let her sleep over before this. She was in your spot. He needed her gone immediately.

"Hey," he grunted, his throat like sandpaper. "Shannon. You need to leave."

She rolled over and glared at him. "Still tired," she whispered, completely naked in his bed.

"Please," he begged. He was so fucking stupid, it was incredible. Now he was miserable and hungover and angry with himself. "I need you to."

She sighed and stretched, and Bradley made a beeline for the bathroom, stepping on a condom wrapper on the way. At least there was that. Then he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He sat back against the wall for a few minutes, afraid there might be more he had to throw up. He knew his head was throbbing due more to the fact that he regretted everything he did last night with Shannon than him drinking most of a bottle of whiskey.

There was tapping on the door. "If you want me to leave, I need to use the bathroom."

"Give me a minute," he groaned, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. When he brushed his teeth, he felt the tears burning behind his eyes once again. Was this ever going to stop? It had been more than a month.

Bradley rinsed his mouth and opened the door, barely looking at Shannon as she walked past him, still naked. He went back into his bedroom for a pair of clean underwear and some gym shorts and fought the urge to put all of his bedding in the washing machine. He couldn't even be in here right now, so he left for the kitchen. And he passed the fucking baseball cards again. He would have to throw them away or ask someone to come get them, because he needed them gone as much as he needed Shannon to leave.

As he turned on his coffee maker, he heard someone knocking on his front door. He already wanted this fucking day to end. He tried not to look at the baseball cards as he passed the table and wrenched his front door open, and then his jaw dropped in surprise.

"Bradley. Hi."

He braced his hand against the door frame as he looked at you standing there on his tiny porch. You were wearing his Padres jersey. He had to be hallucinating. This had to be a dream. You were here.

"Ace."

He watched your face light up at the nickname, and you laughed softly as you examined him like you'd been dying to see him. He gripped the doorframe a little harder as he reached his other hand out to cup your chin and feel your silky skin.

"Holy shit, Baby. What are you doing here?" His heart was pounding, but he felt somehow normal again. Just like he had five weeks ago before you left him in a state of panic.

"I came to see you." He stroked his thumb along your lip, but you didn't back away. In fact you took a tiny step closer as you added, "I have to be up in Anaheim tomorrow afternoon for some Ducks interviews, but I wanted to see you first. I thought we could talk."

Your eyes were open and earnest, and Bradley felt weak as he looked at his jersey on you. He let his hand drop away from your face, because he had no idea what to say to you right now. He had convinced himself he'd never see you again. "Did you get my texts? Or did you block my number?"

You pressed your lips together and then whispered, "I got your texts. And I've listened to your voicemail a lot. I've missed you." Bradley watched you smile tentatively and give him a little shrug.

"You missed me," he said in disbelief. "And you got my messages. And you missed me. And you're wearing my jersey."

You looked down at yourself and laughed. "I've been wearing pretty frequently, actually. Turns out I don't have a dress code at my new office, which ironically is in Houston now, but I hardly ever have to be there in person."

When you met his eyes again, he asked. "New office?" He was so confused as he reached out and stroked your cheek with his fingers again just to try to make sure you were still real.

"Yeah," you said softly, taking another step closer to him. "I have you to thank for that. I have you to thank for a lot of things." You bit your lip before you said, "I left the New York Times. I just finished my last assignment for Greg yesterday. I'm working on a brand new piece now. I actually begged my new employer to let me come back to California for the Anaheim Ducks article even though it's a bit of a fluff piece, because it meant I could come here and tell you that I'm happier now."

"You are?" he asked, unsure what you meant by that. He was having a hard time listening to your voice and looking at your face at the same time, and he wondered how he'd managed ten days in your presence for the World Series. You were just so overwhelmingly perfect.

"Yes, Bradley. You made me think about my career, and I kind of took the time to change some of my priorities. Because if there's a man as incredible as you who is willing to take a chance on me, then I can take the same kind of chance on myself."

"Ace."

You smiled up at what he was sure was a look of longing on his face. "I'm working for Velocity Report now, and I'm going to have a lot more time off between assignments. Which is important, because you reminded me that I need to take breaks and eat and take care of myself. Even when you're not around."

"I loved doing that for you," he gasped, suddenly dying to kiss you.

"Yeah, well, you were really good at it," you said as your smile faded a little bit. "But that's why I'm here. To tell you all of this in person. You deserve to hear it in person instead of over the phone, especially since I never responded to you. I wanted to, but I just wasn't ready until now. And I don't know if you read what I said about you in my Detroit Red Wings article... but, I still miss you. And I love you."

His heart was pounding so hard, he thought he was going to pass out. "You love me?" he asked, absolutely needing you to say it again for him as your eyes drifted to where the box of baseball cards was still out on the coffee table.

Your smile grew as you reached out for his hand and tugged him closer like you were going to kiss him. "Yes, I do. I love-"

Bradley heard a noise behind him, and his heart sank as his eyes went wide. You were looking off to the side, and he heard Shannon's voice. "Oh, sorry." He turned to see her with a puzzled look on her face. He had completely forgotten she was even here. After a few minutes in your presence, you were the only thing that mattered.

"Oh my god," you gasped, wrenching yourself away from Bradley. "Oh, fuck." You looked at him with your hands on your forehead and tears in your eyes. "You know what? Forget I was even here. I'm sorry," you gasped, turning on your heel and walking full speed across his yard to the black car that was parked at his curb.

It took him a second, but then he was right behind you. "Ace! No, Baby, you don't understand." But it didn't look like you were listening as you dug the keys to your rental car out of your pocket. "Ace! Please!" He ran barefoot out onto the street to try to beat you to the car door, but you were too fast. When he reached for your hand and spun you around to face him, you had tears streaming down your cheeks.

He was frozen, clinging to your hand as you whispered, "She's the bartender. I should have never come here."

"No," he begged, stepping into your personal space, but you kept dodging him. "It's nothing. I want you here. I need you here."

But you pulled your hand free and reached for the door handle as you sobbed, and it broke Bradley's heart. "I need to go."

He was ready to drop to his knees. "She doesn't mean anything, Ace! Please! I missed you too, Baby! I've been miserable without you, okay? You have no idea."

You wouldn't even look at him now as you pushed him out of the way so you could climb in the car. He felt all of his dreams slipping through his fingers twice now as you slammed the door closed, started the engine and drove.

"Ace!" he shouted running alongside your door until you hit the accelerator and left him standing in the middle of his street without shoes on. "Ace. I love you," he whispered as you turned left at the end of his block, and then you were out of sight.

Bradley sank down until he was squatting with his face buried in his palms. "Fuck!" he screamed, the sound only slightly muffled as he jumped up to his feet and made his way back to his house where Shannon was standing on his porch. She looked disgusted as another car pulled up in front of his house.

"Why are we sleeping together if you're clearly in love with her?" she asked, barely looking at him as she headed toward her Uber. "You should go take care of that."

As Bradley watched her away, he tried to pinpoint exactly how he'd fucked all of this up. He wondered if there was any way to fix it. Once again, he couldn't breathe correctly as that crushing feeling returned to his lungs. This feeling has vanished for those few minutes he was with you again.

"Maybe you don't even deserve her," he told himself as he walked back inside alone, thinking about how for a minute there, you'd loved him back.

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

Oh, Bradley. Oh, you sweet thing. Should I add one more part? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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stagefoureddiediaz · 2 years

Text

Costume Meta 6x01

It feels so good to be back 🎉 and Now I have a 30 picture limit I’m gonna have so much fun!!!

We’re starting with a bit of colour theory because this episode went hard with the Yellow and blue colour theory from the opening scene! I mean we should have realised the show was gonna go hard with this episode - a giant blimp (actually a zeppelin but semantics!!) kitted out in yellow and blue crash landing - subtly is not known here! you can read my yellow blue colour theory here, but in summary - there has been a bit of a trend in the last few years in television to use yellow and blue in relation to queer relationships - the colour theory was used in Heartbreaker, Our flag means death, and Stranger things - to name a few! The long and short of it is that Yellow - the colour of communication pairs up with blue - the colour of trust and loyalty…

So we started with a giant yellow and blue blimp and from there the yellow and blue was all over the place - the buddie kitchen scene, the dad in the golf course emergency, the win a car emergency (blue car and guy in yellow) etc.

Ok now I’ve got that out of the way - I’m going to stick with going through Character by Character as it makes my life bit easier - putting the rest under the cut as this got insanely long!!

Lucy Wearing a light grey marl cap sleeve tee - light grey is a neutral colour - but it also symbolises control (a reference to the fact she was going to be interim captain) and practicality - ironically its also a reliable colour! there really isn’t a lot to say about her costume, other than that it continues on the grey theme for her from season 5 (her lunch with Jonah)

May

Rainbow puff sleeved cardigan Pretty amused to see May in a rainbow cardigan when she is clearly not being all sunshine and rainbows about her upcoming college experience! the use of horizontal stripes again fits in to my stripe theory and hints at Mays impending change of direction.

Athena

Athena sticking with what she knows works for her - black and olive khaki green! In many ways this colour combination is Athena’s out of work uniform, we see her in this combination or with some white/cream or in just black so often and it makes the scenes where she’s wearing colour much more impactful - It makes us take notice of what we see going on in those scenes for her. Here we have an asymmetric black jumper, olive khaki trousers and her gorgons head necklace (the symbol of the Goddess Athena).

Then when she goes over to Hen’s we have her still in the olive khaki trousers but this time paired with a white ribbed tee and a low v neck grey cardigan with a reverse waffle knit texture. this is one of Athenas more fluffy costumes - its showing her softer side - especially when she talks about giving Bobby the freedom to be carried away with his cruise planning to help him navigate the temptation being on a cruise ship will bring. The grey is again a symbol of stability and authority as well as wisdom and maturity - something reflected in her words - her recognition and understanding of Bobbys internal struggles, but also the fact that she came to Hens house to accomodate Hens crazy schedule - and still get to spend some time with her friend - its an opportunity for Hen to offload on a few things, rather than just getting increasingly burried under her work load.

The magenta top she’s wearing as they get ready to head off on their cruise is a wonderful choice. Magenta is a colour of kindness - it uplifts and supports others - again an indication of what Athena is doing in regards to supporting Bobby and foreshadowing the fact that she’s goingto be heading to Florida to support her parents.

Bobby

Bobby - Bobby in an army green/grey tee - very similar in shade to ones we’ve seen Eddie wear (especially Eddies breakdown) is an interesting choice - especially with all the conversations about bobby being in the program and the bars on the cruise ship etc and obviously there is the scene in 5x18 of Bobby and Eddie having a conversation and then Bobby pouring a bottle of whiskey down the sink. there is very much feeling of Bobby being finely balanced at the moment - teetering on the edge of things spiralling and that it won’t take much to tip hip over that edge. the blue and coral hawaiian shirt screams very much of someone trying too hard - especially combined with his spreadsheet cruise planning.

Hen

Hen is in a hoodie with neon orange graffiti spray paint swirls on - such an interesting choice - orange is a colour of energy and mental stimulation. its also a risk taking colour. the use of graffiti, for me at least, is an interesting one - it has an air of ‘the writing on the wall’ about it - its saying to me that the medical career path isn’t going to be something Hen continues pursuing - that her heart isn’t completely in it (the heart medical book on the desk being the one furthest away from her also plays into this idea).

Chimney

I’m going to talk about Chimneys costume as a whole because if you look anthem all together you can see the gradual change - the way they become increasingly dark. we go from the blue of the first jumper through to the darkest navy button up shirt with white check at the end. so We go from a fairly bright shade of blue - the symbol of trust and loyalty and security.

then there is the teal/green when Madney are on the sofa. its a mixture of the blue meanings, but also green meanings of harmony, hope and balance and renewal. a perfect colour for this moment, but the darkness of its tone hints at the fact not everything is going be smooth sailing from here on in.

then When Chimney comes home, he’s in a navy blue jumper and tee. this is a lighter shade of navy and is pretty similar to the blue of Chimneys uniform - a connection to the conversation he had with Bobby and Eddie earlier on. Navy is a colour associated with authority and responsibility (hence its use in uniforms) but the thing with navy is that it also has connections with depression and mental health struggles and the fact that we then have Chim in an even darker navy with a white check pattern the next time we see him is indicative of not everything being as happy as it appears on the surface. We all know Madney are going to be going to couples therapy this season and this shirt is an indicator of this. (It doesn’t hurt that it also supports my check patttern theory either)

Maddie

Maddie drops of Jee with Chimney - black blazer grey zip front hoodie and tee with stars on , heart necklace - Maddie being back in blazers is a great sign from a costuming perspective - we have only seen her wearing blazers when she’s in a good place mentally - just before Doug kidnaps her and then again when Madney are in a good place. this black blazer is connecting to the times Maddie and Chim have made starts in there relationship - she was wearing a black blazer when she was getting ready for her date with chim, and then again when they went on their first proper date. So that blazers an indicator that Maddie is in a good place and ready to embrace happiness with Chim once again.

The grey hoodie is an interesting choice because we don’t see Maddie in grey very often at all (I actually can’t think of any incidents of her wearing grey - I haven’t finished my full costume plot yet so I can’t be 100% but I can’t remember any) it shows her practicality and stability, her having gained wisdom, insight and maturity - like the black blazer its a key indicator of where she’s at mentally and the combination of the two is indicative that this time she’s in the right place of it to last

Maddie in bed in a tie dye tee and we can see the pink hoodie on the chair in the corner. Im not sure if its going to turn out to be a cut scene and we only know about it because of the trailer or if it will be a scene to accompany chimney being in the car that’s going to (almost) hit Buck but the outfit is the same as the trailer scene of Maddie and Jee-Yun looking for Chimney in the living room. Im inclined to think its a separate scene and the repeat outfit is deliberate - to highlight what seems to be a developing theme of history repeating itself. The upcoming car accident has so many potential call backs for so many characters (Chim being in car (potential rebar call back) as well as being kidnapped again (which will also impact on Hen and Bobby) Buck and the ladder truck, the Shannon callback for Eddie, Hen and Evelyn, Buck and bike accidents)

The coral blazer is a really great colour on Jen, but its also a great choice from a colour theory perspective. We have Maddie in a white tee with a 60’s style bubble writing logo which says (I think) all good and a coral coloured blazer. I’ve already said blazers are good for Maddie and this one is no exception. Coral is a colour of warmth and acceptance, it has good intentions and is optimistic - it is a colour about a bigger picture rather than small details. this is important because this conversation that Madney have is about the bigger picture of their relationship - the conversation reads like Maddie making vows to Chim (foreshadowing of a wedding anyone??) but it is at its heart one that recognises they will need to continue to put in work to sort out the small stuff - its just that in that moment - the bigger picture and acknowledging that it is the thing they lost sight of while and need to not let that happen again.

I’m a little obsessed with the green jacket we see Maddie in in the last scene and I’m sad we don’t get a better look at it to be honest - because there is so much going on. Firstly the yellow tee underneath is indicative of both happiness and the fact that Maddie communicates that she’s staying to Jee. Its a significant moment for both Madney and Jee-Yun so the use of yellow was important for this scene. As for the Jacket though. We have a floral embroidered decoration on the back - a possible throwback to Madneys first meeting when Maddie is wearing a denim shirt with floral embroidery on the yoke. But the really interesting thing is the two cranes on the right shoulder.You may recall I made this post about Hen’s crane shirt in season 5. well here we have more cranes being used in connection with Chim. Cranes mate for life and are a symbol of fidelity so here we have a visual symbol to show us that Madney are in the right place now. the other thing about cranes is that they migrate over long distances - Madney have travelled both metaphorical and physical distances to get to where they are now and those cranes are a symbol of that.

Christopher Let’s start with Chris as he’s the easiest! here we see him in a raglan sleeve tee - lightish blue sleeves and a grey body with white horizontal stripes. the stripes play into my stripe theory - change is on its way for Christopher - this most likely relates to his impeding push for some freedoms from his father - wanting to become his own person etc, but its incredibly hard to look past the stripes being connected to everything that went on in that scene - suggesting that the change that is coming is more related to the changing dynamic of the Buckley-Diaz family! the grey is a marl and it references to the same things as the Lucy tee from earlier - practicality, reliability (we can all rely on Chris to have a sassy dig at either Eddie or Buck!) while the blue arms are about trust, security and loyalty. the implications being that Chris is in safe, trusting environment and the bonds between the three of them are strong.

Chris is wearing a blue t-shirt with a pair of skateboards on in parallel with each other- one red and one blue is such an interesting choice! to choose to call back to the skateboard incident from Fools (3x12) is very loud. it not only draws a contrast between Buck ad Ana, it also serves as a subtle reminder of the first time we see a Buckley-Diaz family scene after the previous kitchen scene - the first time we get to see Buck stepping into a coparent role with Eddie.

Eddie

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. I said a while back that if we ever saw Eddie wearing yellow the Buddie would go canon. And here we have Eddie in a buttery yellow button shirt. There is so much to say about this outfit. Yellow is the colour of communication, but it is also the colour of optimism and happiness and of intellect. Eddie wearing yellow for the first time in the first non his first non uniform scene in season 6 speaks volumes about where Eddie is at mentally and personally. This is especially loud after the darker tones we saw him in in season 5 and the choice of having him in two different patterns at the vow renewal really highlights how far he has come. It’s a deliberate choice to show us where Eddie is - combine that with the giant heart eyes he’s sporting whenever he looks at Buck and its clear that the last 4 months have further transformed him from where he was at at the end of season 5. The shirt is also better fitting than mot of his outfit from season 5, where we saw him in oversized and stretched out clothing - adding a physical dimension to his mental struggles.

I’ve seen a few people comparing this shirt with the one he wore for his math date with Ana, and calling it his date shirt but I don’t think its right to put those two shirt into the same category. Especially as the shirt above actually matches up with another Eddie shirt - in fact I think it is the same shirt thats just been over dyed a buttery yellow (reason I think this is that the buttons are the same colour on both shirts!) and tailored to fit Ryan better. 2x17 - In Bobbys apartment having a conversation about if Eddie is ready to be a good husband

“we already know you’re a great dad’ “I guess the question is, can I be a good husband”

All this just before Shannon asks for a divorce and then gets killed in a car accident!

To have essentially the same shirt - just in a more cheerful colour - in such a domestic scene where they’re acting like husbands suggests that Eddie wasn’t ready back in 2x17 (because it was t he wrong person) but now - he’s in a better place (hence the brighter colour) and is ready to be a good husband! All this combining with Buck in his paralleling denim shirt showing his growth and when we know Buck is about to (almost) get hit by a car! 🤯🤯🤯 Honestly - wardrobe team I bow down to you - you’ve really hit it out of the park this time!

I just wan to show you the math date shirt from 4x08 - as you can see - not the same shirt - this one is a western style shirt - pointed yoke, pointed pockets and metal buttons/ poppers!

I actually like that the math date shirt is a western style shirt - it fits in nicely with the other times we’ve seen Eddie in western style shirts - around Shannon and his family - the concept of traditional values etc in shirt form!

Eddies grey shirt at the end of the episode is very much intended to sit in parallel to the shooting and especially the will scene.

Its a darker grey marl, so not the same as a navy blue, but the neckline has a very similar cut to it and grey as a colour can mean insight, maturity and wisdom - it is also a stable colour so its a great colour to have Eddie in in this scene - especially with them connecting Buck to the diaz boys through the editing. We are seeing an Eddie who is stable and comfortable in who he is - who has spent the episode being insightful and wise - talking Buck off the ledge during his ‘tantrum’ and being the living embodiment of what therapy can do for a person! The other thing to note about that t-shirt is the connection with that space and season 5 - one of the last times we saw Eddie in the dining room - Buck was there and wearing a similar shade of grey and Eddie sat in that same chair after therapy and picked up Bucks heart!!!! The implication of this parallel is the Eddie will be there for Buck in the same way we saw Buck being there for him!

Buck I went into it in more detail in this post, so I’ll keep it brief here. Buck is wearing a white tee - and we’ve long established that Buck and white tops means trouble! in this instance the trouble is his tantrum over being passed up for interim captain and actually reflects nicely on to the turmoil his mind is currently in in relation to his personal life with all the loaded sentences about couches and and relationships. Then there is the the mid to light blue zip front denim shirt with vertical stripes - we haven’t actually seen him in a denim shirt of any description since the western style one we saw him wear for his coffee shop date with Abby at the end of 1x09. This parallel hits on a few different levels. Firstly 1x09 is the only other time that blimps are mentioned in 911!! yes indeed that coffee shop date comes after that locker room talk with bobby about blimps and stepping in. That coffee shop date is when we see Buck choosing to go all in, in his first serious relationship - seeing all the things that come with dating Abby - and choosing to embrace them (dare I say that this is the Buck 1.5 KR was speaking about in her interview which adds an additional dimension to the kitchen scene!) and stepping in - something we’ve seen him do with Eddie time and again. That date was the foundation stone for what Buck has been building with Eddie - it was a moment of growth for him and a lesson he took to heart and continues to live by to this day. That we see this in a scene so laden with metaphors in an episode with another blimp - this time an actual one rather than a mentioned one - this speaks volumes about the intent of the writers and the direction the show is going in.

Buck is also wearing a watch in this scene - something he doesn’t do outside of work that often and especially when he is around Eddie (I haven’t finished writing my full costume plot yet, but the only time he wears one around Eddie in seasons 2-3 is when he takes Eddie to collect Chris after the earthquake).

Then we have Buck alone in his loft. there are several things to walkabout in this scene and first up we have white trainer theory - one again coming in for the win. those white trainers are a representation of Bucks journey and search for love (both romantic and familial) so to see them at this moment is highlighting that Buck has made more progress on his journey.

The white shirt with stripes call back is so very loud. This shirt however has a few differences. the stripes are a combination of Bucks two previous white shirts with a twist. There is the white pinstripe shirt from the shooting - with its narrow light grey pinstripes;

And then the shirt from the Taylor moving in to the loft scene (which of course features the couch!) which is a short sleeve shirt with wider and darker grey pinstripes;

This shirt is also worn in the conversation with Maddie (where buck confesses to Maddie he kissed Lucy).

The shirt for this scene in 6x01 is a combination of the two shirts - there is both narrow and wide pinstripes and it is of a similar cut to the other loft scene, only its not a button down shirt, its a button up shirt, its also cream and the stripes are blue and they have a tiny yellow stripe next to them! Yes blue and yellow theory in action on Bucks shirt!

I have a semi developed theory about Bucks vertically striped shirts - because Buck seems to wear them at moments when he is almost ‘imprisoned’ by something mentally. The trauma Buck experiences in the shooting is its an obvious prison - especially as they haven’t yet talked about the shooting - Taylor moving in was again a prison of his own making and only helped prolong the torture of an unhappy relationship. There is also the black with white pinstripe shirts we see a couple of times - all connected to Taylor and her mental manipulations of Buck (I think i’m going to have to put together a full post on these shirts because there is too much to go into here) and this most recent pair of shirts - the blue one from earlier - where we have a Buck doing some mental self torture trying to work out why he’s been passed over for the interim Captain job and finally this new white one - Where Buck is currently in a mental prison of sorts around what he does actually want in life - this self imposed prison is such a complex one - its of course in part tied to his job and future aspirations on that front, but more importantly all of the context and subtext we got in this episode is heavily implying that we have returned to a Buck who is on some level now conscious of his feelings for Eddie. there is so much complexity here for Buck to wade through - Evan ‘the clinger’ Buckley is clearly wrestling with the idea of what if it goes wrong - what if he’s reading too much into things - he’s not yet in a place where he is prepared to risk both his friendship with Eddie, but almost more importantly his relationship with Chris - the kid he promised he’d always be around for. Buck is not yet willing or able to accept that the risk is worth the reward - that this is the forever love he’s been searching for. There is also the job to add into the equation - would they be split up at work if they begin a romantic relationship, how would it affect the dynamics- of the team, and would it have an impact on Bucks newly awakened desire to progress his career. I also thin there is something in it about accepting his queerness - not in a grappling with it kind of way - more in a deeper level understanding this aspect of himself and recognising its impact on his life. The best way I can think to try and explain what I mean is to use my own experience with gaining my ASD and ADHD diagnosis as an adult. When I got my diagnosis - suddenly all these little things that I had experienced throughout my life up to that point suddenly started to make sense - the dots began to connect and I could better understand who I was as a person (and how tings might’ve been different if I’d known earlier). its not that it changed me as a person, more that I was able to make some break throughs mentally. it feels to me at least that that is what we’re seeing Buck going through - he’s now beginning to understand himself better and its this love for Eddie that is allowing it to happen. And Buck does need to connect to parts of his younger self in order to move forward - and that includes recognising past relationship behaviours as well as other traumas (the shooting) need to be understood.

Wow I got a bit off topic there!!! all this to say that that white shirt has so so much to say about where Buck is at as a larger theme. I’m wrapping it up here - if you made it to the end I am here handing you cookies in thanks! 🍪🍪🍪

Tagging people who have asked to be tagged. If you’d like to add you name to the list - please comment on this post and if you asked to be but you name isn’t below - it won’t let me tag you for some reason 🥺🥺🥺

@mistmarauder @theladyyavilee @loveyourownsmiilee @leothil @girldadbuddie @kitkatpancakestack @bucksintheroom @lemotmo @trashendence @elishareads @clipboardsandstethoscopes @comfortbuddie @fiona-fififi @name-code-black-widow @prettyboyandthekid @callanee @calyssmarviss @alwaysme @pbandjeremiah @batgrldes @piningpettyeddie @bi-moonlight @spotsandsocks @projectabc @livingwherethesidewalkends @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @idontshitpostbuttheolympicpark @diazboysbuckley @sweettsubaki @jordxnhennessy @shortsighted-owl @sherlocking-out-loud @ekstasisandangst-main @favouritealias @hearteyesdiaz @gossamerglob @ktinastrikesback @adamrparrrish @princesschez75 @bucksbuddie @oneawkwardcookie @leatherat @moniquekatie @wanderingwomanwondering @trickster-archangel

#kym costume meta #911 costume meta #meta #6x01 costume meta #911 costumes #costume theory #Athena grant #Bobby nash #Hen wilson #Chimney Han #Maddie buckley #Christopher Diaz #evan 'buck' buckley #Eddie Diaz #Buddie #911 on fox #911onfox #911 fox

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