Breakfast Club Imagines

Andrew x Reader - Sporto

With one last heave I shoved my boyfriend down and pinned him to the mat. I grinned slyly. He giggled nervously and pulled his hood over his head as a blush crept up his cheeks.

"Beginner's luck..." He responded, looking desperately toward the open door, hoping his old man hadn't seen him get pinned by a girl.

"Hey...I'm sorry. Do you want to stop?" I asked him, knowing how he feels about losing.

"No, no, Y/N. You're perfectly fine. I just...I..."

"Andrew..." I cooed, caressing his cheek with my thumb. "Talk to me."

He sighed. "I guess...my dad...he...whenever I lose...even in practice, he...he hits me. He doesn't joke around either. It's not practice or play, it's..."

I brushed a tear from his cheek. "He tells me every day...'I won't tolerate a damn loser in this fuckin house, Sporto, you piece of shit, you! I can't fuckin stand losers!' And I...I can't take it anymore!"

I opened my arms for him to cry on my shoulder.

"And now I'm cryin'!" He blubbered.

"Shhh. Andy, shhh. Let it out."

"Losers cry..."

I lifted his chin and dried his tears. "No, Andy. It takes a strong man to cry in the company of someone else, or show any kind of emotion at all."

"I...I guess you're right."

"I know I'm right. So don't worry about what your dad might think. He is irrelevant."

He nodded and bit his lip. "Round two?" He asked, and took his stance.

"Totally."

We tossed each other around until I finally pinned him again.

"Ha ha! How'd that floor taste...Sporto?"

That word took a different meaning when I said it, rather than his father.

"It tasted great." He rolled over and pinned me in return. "But not as good as your lip balm."

Laying on top of me, he kissed me sweetly and held me tight. And didn't let go for a long while.