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bby-deerling · 6 months

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Hi hi! Can I request a Law + Give Into Me? Congrats 🥳

hi hi! i got a bit carried away with this one hehe.

law + give into me (nsfw, afab!reader)

18+, nsfw, mdni, wc: 1.4k masterlist

cw: piv, fingering, idiots in love, edging, begging

Heat pooled at your core as you watched Law hastily scribble down notes on the textbook he was reading, hunched over and chewing on his lip in concentration. A deep pang of yearning had struck you earlier in the day, putting any pretense of getting any work of your own done out of the question. However, for better or for worse, you knew he was busy, and trying to blatantly initiate contact would simply get on his nerves; if you had any hope of getting what you wanted out of him, you’d have to trick him into thinking it was on his terms.

It was no small feat, maintaining a guise of plausible deniability while still planting the seed with him. The string of not-so-innocuous touches had started at breakfast, with you taking the opportunity to brush your hand against his thigh under the table—the touch was brief, and small enough to be played off as an accident, but the sides of your lips quirk up when you feel him stiffen next to you. You were a bit more brazen after lunch, when he passes you and Ikkaku sharing a bag of candy together; as he strides past, his steps slightly falter when he sees you sucking on a lollipop, snapping it out of your mouth with a lewd pop. You’re careful to not make eye contact with him—making it too obvious that you were trying to rile him up would set you back to square one.

And now here you were, idly rolling the tip of your pen across your bottom lip, trying not to make your staring too obvious, a difficult feat when he’s writing. Veins visible on his hands as his tattooed fingers holding his pen purposefully, it was nearly impossible to tear your eyes away.

“You know, if you want me, you can just ask me.” Law says, casting his pen aside and tilting his head up to look at you, lips pulled into a smirk.

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were busy.” you say, defending yourself as blood rushes to your face.

“You say that like you haven’t been trying to tease me all day—you’re not subtle, you know.” he says, entertained by the embarrassment that floods your face.

Flustered, your fingers dig into your forearms, nervously grasping at straws to try to think of a response that didn’t make you look even more needy for him than you already seemed.

“Don’t play coy with me now.” he says, amused. “Get over here.”

You shed your heavy boiler suit and make your way over to his office chair, slipping your legs underneath the armrests in order to straddle him. Still blushing furiously, he tilts your face up to meet his gaze.

“All that planning, only to freeze up at the end. Cute.” he muses, pressing a line of kisses from your cheek to the corner of your mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair and lean forward to kiss him properly, but he pulls back and turns his attention to your neck instead, making you gasp as he bites and licks his way along it.

“Better start thinking further ahead if you think you’re going to outsmart me.” he whispers in your ear, making you shudder as he drags his tongue along the shell before nibbling on your earlobe.

“It’s hard to think straight when I want you so badly…” you mumble, letting out a soft sigh as he squeezes your hips and grinds into you. He smiles triumphantly into your neck, finally hearing you admit what he was dying to hear.

Law would never dream of telling you that he had been playing the same game in parallel with you; he was just better at it. Yesterday, he had made the conscious effort to stand a bit closer to you than he usually would, made sure your shoulders brushed up against each other, and gave you more praise than usual for your work—all measures that were subtle enough to fly under your radar, but subconsciously make you crave him. Today he pulled back, eagerly awaiting the spectacle of you trying to get his attention while simultaneously being too sheepish to ask for it. He knew you wouldn’t want to bother him while he was working, but if you had been paying attention to what he was actually doing instead of drooling over his hands, you’d notice that he hadn’t been taking notes at all; for the past hour he had been doodling a crudely drawn scene of Bepo dressed as Sora: Warrior of the Sea attacking a group of Germa soldiers.

“Law…” you whine as he slides the crotch of your flimsy, elastic workout shorts to the side; he’s not surprised that you’re not wearing underwear, but nonetheless, he feels his cock twitch in his pants as he runs two of his fingers along your slit, covering them with your slick essence.

“This what you want?” he asks, teasing you with just the very tips of his digits, making you whimper.

“Please, Law, please finger me…” you say, leaving nips and kisses along his neck in an attempt to convince him to quit teasing and give you what you need.

“Please? Please…” The first time he says it, it’s a question, poorly feigning surprise at the fact that you’re pleading for him to touch you. The second time, it’s an echo, saturated with smug satisfaction as he slides his fingers into you, smirking as he hears the lewd sounds you make.

He curls his fingers inside of you, and your back arches in pleasure, face abandoning his neck and putting you on full display in his lap for him to enjoy.

“Always begging for my fingers inside you…on you…you take whatever you can get from me, don’t you?” he taunts, pleased with himself when your response is a nod and a string of shaky sighs as he slowly works you up to your high.

“Gonna come all over my fingers?” he asks, voice raspy and rumbling in your ear.

“I’m close—” you say, only to let out a frustrated whine when he pulls out his fingers, depriving you of your climax.

He unzips his jeans and frees his cock, giving it a few strokes to spread beads of precum along his shaft.

“You’re gonna take whatever I give you, nothing less, nothing more.” he reiterates as he slides into you; the feeling of your warm walls around his cock sends a tingling bolt of electricity down his spine.

Gripping your hips with both hands, he rocks you against him; a string of hushed curses fall from your mouth as your clit rubs against him with each stroke. He muffles your profanity with his mouth, teasingly swirling his tongue around yours. Dizziness and ecstasy cloud your senses as pressure in your abdomen builds with each drag of your clit against his toned abs, blood rushing to your cheeks as you find yourself close once more.

Despite your jumbled mind, you find yourself asking for permission.

“Please Law, lemme come…please, I’ll do anything…” you pant out, voice nearly cracking as he pulls your hips closer with each thrust of his cock inside you, deepening the friction and nearly sending you over the edge.

“Since you asked so nicely, go ahead.” he says, groaning as your hips twitch in his grasp, giving yourself the last push you need to come, seeing white as the coil in your abdomen snaps and electricity floods through your veins.

“So good for me…” he praises, hand in your hair as he holds your shaking body close. He buries his head in your shoulder, pressing soft kisses into your neck as he thrusts deep inside you; the way you clench around him in the aftershocks of your orgasm drives him wild and desperate to follow your release up with his own.

His body shudders as he fucks you slowly and deeply, whispering praises into your ear as he gets close. You’re nearly limp in his arms, a still a whimpering mess from coming so intensely, lazily kissing and nipping any skin of his you can reach. His breath hitches as he spills into you, inadvertently digging his nails into your back as he loses himself in his orgasm. As his grip loosens, you pepper kisses all over his face before nuzzling your head back into his shoulder.

Law smiles as he wraps his arms around you and sighs, not quite ready to let you go just yet. He may have won the little mind game the two you had been playing, but he was always willing to give you a consolation prize that made your participation worth your while.

#one piece x reader #x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece smut #one piece scenario #cmon fuck me emo boyyyyy #mdni

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sunlit-mess · 1 month

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Congrats on being on the radar!

insane

#messyr #no shit idk how bruv HAUAHAHA #NGL a lil story to that artwork: I have my own duck clips w luci and lilith and figured drawing him w it #the first time I got that plain fkin duck clip months ago- I got overexcited that the moment I got home- OUT OF IMPULSE #I started crafting his lil hat

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alwritey-aphrodite · 5 months

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pookie first of all: CONGRATS ON 1K OMG!!! SO PROUD OF YOU🫶🫶

also: loving all the arranged marriage fics they’re all soso good I’m so happy and grateful ❤️

anywayss, I have a new idea!!

-either a new girl reader, and sejanus is immediately infatuated w her

-orr more of a peacekeeper!sejanus with a district/covey reader bc it’s literally stuck in my head so badly rn😭

thank you so much, congrats again🫶🫶

ps: wish me luck on midterms this week, I’m dying🙏

AHHH THANK YOU SO SO MUCH 🥰🥰🥰 im sorry this took so long, but im sure you did amazing on your midterms <3 also, peacekeeper!Sejanus and covey!reader mean the world to me (as does matchmaker Lucy Gray hehe)

The Covey are a flashy people, performers to their very soul and the most lively bunch you’ve ever seen. With a love of bright colors and music, it’s hard for any of you to fly under the radar when compared to the rest of the citizens of District Twelve, the people who will never claim you as their own but are happy to dance to your songs and send your cousin to fight to the death.

You, however, aren’t built for the stage. Your voice is better suited to singing lullabies than it is to performing on stage, and even the thought of that many eyes on you makes you feel like you’re on the verge of throwing up. Still, you contribute where you can, helping your cousins write their songs and being a willing audience when they need to test out something new, and you still work, sewing new clothes and patching up the old.

Lucy Gray is something of a momma bird, despite the fact that she’s only a handful of weeks older than you, and she’d rather see you set up and happy before running off with Coriolanus. Luckily for you, he has a friend who, in your opinion, is much kinder and cuter than his blonde counterpart. You’d tell him that, if only your tongue didn’t tie up in knots every time you made eye contact.

Walking towards the lake, Sejanus is sure to push any low-hanging branches out of the way for you, holding out his hand to help you over loose rocks and tangles of roots. The two of you talk the entire way there, almost oblivious to the people surrounding you and the feeling of Lucy Gray staring at you. If you turned around, you’re almost certain you’d catch her grinning.

When you finally make it to the dock, you try not to stare as Sejanus pulls off his shirt, turning away to pull off your own clothes, completely unaware of the way he blushes as he turns back towards the water, for reasons unrelated to the beating sun. No matter how obvious Sejanus makes his affection, it seems impossible to you that somebody like him could love you, and even just friendship seems a little unbelievable sometimes.

The two of you wait for your younger cousins to go splashing into the water, certain that if you had jumped in first, you would have gotten pummeled with water and flying limbs. Launching yourself into the water, you resurface with a giggle as you watch Lucy Gray leap into the lake with Coriolanus hot on her heels. Sejanus is treading water next to you, and the two of you share a smile as you watch Lucy Gray out of the corner of your eye.

“They’re something else, aren’t they?” You wish you were as trusting as Lucy Gray, able to just accept affection like you deserved it, but you’re too busy daydreaming to realize that Sejanus is looking at you like you’re something to be admired.

After about twenty minutes of Maude Ivory’s splashing, you grow tired and heave yourself onto the dock, drying off in the sunshine and dangling your feet into the water. Sejanus sits next to you, claiming that he’s never been the strongest swimmer and he’d rather sit with you on mostly-solid ground, but from the way Lucy Gray winks at you, you’re almost certain it’s just an excuse to sit next to you.

The rest of the afternoon is spent lying side by side with Sejanus in the sun, talking about whatever comes to mind and kicking at your younger cousins whenever they decide to try and tug you back into the water. It’s all sunshine and giggles, and there’s a strange feeling forming in your chest, right in the center of your ribs, a feeling that grows whenever Sejanus looks over at you, eyes half-closed from the sun but still full of a sort of adoration that’s completely foreign to you.

These are always your favorite days, your favorite moments, little pockets of sun dappled peace for you to hold close to your heart and revisit whenever you’re feeling down. The way Sejanus looks at you, smiles at you, laughs at your jokes, places a gentle hand on the bottom of your back to guide you over rough terrain, catapults today to the top of your heart, a precious little jewel to hold onto.

In those moments, replaying the day over in your head with a dreamy smile on your face, you don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or reading too much into the way Sejanus seems to orbit you like you’re the sun, you just get to smile at the memory of the way his eyes crinkle with the intensity of his joy and the ghost of his warm palm on your back. And, no one can scold you for replaying these moments over and over, even though you’re much too nervous to ever say anything to Sejanus about the way your breath catches and your heart constricts whenever you see him.

Tagging my beloved @beybaldes because it feels illegal not to at this point

#sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth fanfiction #sejanus x reader #sejanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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ohtobemare · 1 year

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Congrats!!!! How about "You're the most gorgeous person here" with Bradley!

Oh lord, Em. I love this so damn much. Hopefully I do this justice, Rooster Queen! Enjoy your Bradley, and thanks for being a follower, love!

Kiss Me Hello

“Roo? That you, Bradley?”

Rooster can hear the smack of the screen bouncing off the back door frame as your voice chimes through the back of the house. His eyes search for you through the house for a moment as he drops his gear at the door, reaching to scratch at the ears of the dog that nearly killed himself to beat him to the front door.

Without warning at all, the beagle he’s attempting to greet throws himself around at the sound of your voice, tail helicoptering him down the hall as his claws scramble for purchase that isn’t there on the wooden floor.

With a baleful howl Gander disappears around the corner, in search of his momma, who’s voice lifts in that high-pitched, baby way at the sound of him.

Rolling his eyes at the baby talk you’re giving the dog somewhere in the house, he drops to a knee to begin unlacing his boots, listening to you traverse the house looking for him.

Rooster immediately notices the boxes hanging out against the wall by the closet, new additions to the space that weren’t there this morning. Beyond the mudroom, in the hallway leading to the kitchen, there’s plastic bins marked what he thinks says KITCHEN in your familiar chicken-scratch cursive, though he’s never been able to decipher your handwriting, even after two years of hand-written honey-do lists, notes, letters, and general over-your-shoulder peeking.

Gander is bouncing in excitement, leading you down the corridor toward the front mud room, until you’re leaning against the corner, smiling at him with bright eyes and what looks like paint stained across your forehead and nose.

“Hiya,” you beam at him, dropping into a squat to rub the dog’s ears as Bradley is kicking off his boots, “You’re home early,” you check the clock on the phone that’s hanging out in your back pocket before slipping it in the top of your bra, standing to intercept his hug hello. “It’s only 3. Mav cut you loose for the weekend?”

Your arms are snug around the back of his neck and you draw up on your toes as he wraps his around your waist, dragging you closer against him until your hips are flush with his.

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a small smile as he takes in your appearance—contacts today, probably in favor of the sunglasses perched in your hair, and this close he can tell you’re wearing that tinted moisturizer stuff you really like. It’s doing a terrible job of hiding the slight sunburn on your nose.

You’re not wearing a stitch of any other makeup, which is a little unusual for you. You usually always have mascara or at least some kind of glossy balm or some shit on your lips. Bradley suddenly wishes he’d been home all day, like he does every day, with you to see what you’ve been up to—he’s infinitely curious about the paint on your face, and lifts a hand to thumb the smear on your forehead.

It’s actually spackle. Like, wall spackle. There’s a blip of disappointment that hits his radar, knowing that you’ve actually gone ahead and spackled holes in the spare bedroom without him. It lasts seconds, maybe, before you reach up to kiss the corner of his mouth in that sweet, sloppy way.

He’d wanted to help you with this. It’s one of the projects you’d been hoping to complete before the two of you actually finished the moving process—the room was going to be your in-home office, and the excitement you’ve been exuding about finally having it finished had only been a topic of discussion and pride since you’d purchased the house.

Disappointment is replaced nearly immediately when he realizes that he’s married probably the best woman on the planet. You’ve always been that girl that doesn’t need him, but wants him. Allows him into your world.

Ever since the first date he’d known you were capable of standing on your own two feet with that screwed-on-straight head of yours, boldly independent and determined.

Bradley remembered your second date. He’d probably remember it even in his old, forgetful age, because the humiliation would probably haunt him at least that long. He’d taken you to the South Bay Drive In, thinking it would be a cute second date, after dinner and a walk.

The Bronco had never given him so much trouble until that morning, but he’d figured it was just a fluke and had tossed some coolant in the radiator. No big deal, he’d have his guy check it out later. Thankfully he’d parked no problem, and the two of you had enjoyed the movie, or, what glimpses of it you’d actually managed to watch between talking and swapping life stories.

Rooster had been so enthralled with the animated way you talked with your hands, the expressions on your face, how your tone deepened and lifted when you imitated other people that he couldn’t even remember the movie looking back.

He’d just sat, parked in the driver’s seat, head plunked in his hand, listening to you. Then and there he’d known he could listen to you talk forever and die a happy man. Really, Bradley was sure that date was the date that he’d known he was a goner—you’d stolen his heart in the front seat of his dad’s precious truck, wearing jeans and tank top with your hair pulled up in a cute little bandanna and earrings. He couldn’t think of anywhere better to realize he was in love with you.

Fifteen minutes before he was supposed to take you home he’d started the Bronco, and you’d excused yourself to the restroom before leaving. Idling, thinking you were the hottest thing he’s ever seen, he hadn’t even noticed the temp gauge steadily tick up. It was only when the needle was pegged over 230 and the front of the Bronco was smoking that he realized the damn thing was overheated.

Scrambling to open the hood, you’d arrived just seconds before he was ready to pop the radiator cap. Smacking his hand away violently, you’d screeched “Bradley, no!” like some kind of pterodactyl or shit, hip-checking him aside to stand in front of the motor, hands on the frame of the front fascia as you checked things over. Hands up in surrender, he’d asked you what the big deal was.

“If you’re trying to ruin that pretty face of yours with an explosion of hot coolant, you were close,” you’d said with that little accent of yours that he’d come to absolutely love, “I like the scars you’ve already got, Roo—just don’t add to the collection if you can help it, mkay?” You’d turned, ran your thumb over the faded trace of a pink line on his chin, and winked.

Within a few minutes of bending over the motor delicately, not to get your clothes dirty, you’d determined that one of the coolant lines had completely disintegrated, coolant seeping through the twists and bends of the motor to the parking lot beneath. He was flabbergasted, in awe of you, and so damned turn on that he’d been sure you’d notice the semi aching between his legs.

You hadn’t. You were too good for that, way too sweet to say anything even if you had. Flattening your lips, you’d closed the hood with a sigh, slipping your hands into the front pocket of your jeans as your shoulders lifted, almost sheepishly. He’d asked you if there was any other damage, guessing you knew what you were doing—he didn’t, he wasn’t really a grease monkey to any extent.

He liked to think he was a wrencher, but you’d made quick work of that assumption.

“The old girl needs some coolant lines, but she’s definitely not hot enough to cause any damage. You’re lucky. The engine looks pretty nice, for a Ford.” He’d had the thought to be insulted by the proposed argument you’d baited him with, but your slow smile and another wink had just unraveled him instead, sending the hot blood pumping through his veins straight between his legs.

He’d called Jake, and Hangman had picked you both up at the drive in, in his Ram. That had perked you up.

You’d chatted animatedly about the pickup the entire ride back to your car, which they’d left at the pier, Bradley only a slight shade of green at the way Jake flowed in and out of the conversation about cars so easily.

Hangman had helped him pick up his rig the next day, chuckling as he’d clapped a thick hand on his his shoulder seconds before Bradley dipped beneath the car to hook up tow cables, “Quite the honey you’ve got yourself there, Rooster. I like her. A lot.”

“And that matters because….?”

“Because, since I’ve known ya, you’ve got the same taste in women as you do cars—shitty.” His eye-roll had split the man’s face into that dazzling, shit-eating grin of his, “But she—shit, Bradshaw, she’s a keeper.” He’d whistled between the break in words, head slowly shaking. “You lose that one and it’s fair game for the rest of us, bud.”

The mere idea of Hangman even insinuating going after you had him nearly vibrating. But the entire scenario had him reeling between embarrassment and pride.

He can laugh about all of it, now, because there’s no way you’d be leaving him any time soon for Hangman, but—there’s still that knife of embarrassment that digs into the mesh of his ribs. A wiggle of apprehension in his brain that he’s the lucky one. Doesn’t deserve you, because you’re fucking amazing. That you’re too good for him, always have been, and someday will wake up and remember that.

Warmth from your body against him spreads through his blood, and Rooster tightens the arm around your waist. You’re leaning against him a little harder now, fingers from your one hand playing with the curls at the base of his neck. Tension from the day in the air, from the memory of Seresin nearly promising to steal you, begins to bleed from his shoulders.

“Keepin’ busy, baby?” His eyes cut to the white paste on his thumb and yours follow, and he flexes his thumb to emphasize the point, “Something you want to tell me?” Bradley isn’t actually concerned with what you’ve been doing all day by yourself—the playfulness in his tone matches the curious lift of his brow, and it’s making you smile that wondrous smile that levels him every time you share it.

Color suddenly flares to life on your cheeks and you look away, to your chest snugged up against his. “I’m a mess, aren’t I?” You lift a hand to smooth the curls hanging out in a top knot, which he doesn’t understand, because your hair, like always, looks perfect–even if it’s that effortless, messy perfect.

You seem to remember you’ve been painting and spackling, and that he’s wearing his flight suit, because you nearly jump back from him, checking down the front of yourself, an arm leaving its embrace around his neck to swipe down the front of your shirt.

Eyes cutting up to consider the front of his uniform, your blush and the way you gasp is nearly frantic.

“Bradley! Your flight suit!” You hiss under your breath, moving to brush your hand over his chest, where absolutely nothing has disturbed the decorum stitched into the damn thing. He’ll never convince you it’s fine—you take more pride in his clean flight suit than the damn Navy or any CO he’s ever seen.

“Damnit, I didn’t even think—”

He’s laughing at you, “Baby, it’s fine—”

“It isn’t fine!” You protest, your remaining arm around his neck falling away as you pick at the dried spackle and paint staining your shorts and bare legs. Your eyes track to him, head popping up before you wave your finger over the length of his body, “Here. Strip it off, I’ll put it with the stuff to take back to the apartment. I’ll wash it tonight and you can take it Monday.”

That sounds like more work than necessary—laundry in your apartment is on the first floor, and you’re on the third floor, which means you’ve been hiking laundry back and forth the four years you’ve lived in the damn place. He has other suits on base, in his flight locker, and he can launder them himself—he’s been doing it since before you came into his life. Kind of a pro at it, really.

But, since being married, you’d become nearly obsessive about the basic duties of domesticity—you cooked for him. Cleaned the apartment, even though he’d been living out of a duffle since moving in, waiting for your lease to expire. You did the laundry. He’d had to fight you to take over the bills and finances, otherwise you’d do that too.

Rooster hadn’t ever had a wife before, but he was sure that sharing last names didn’t make you his live-in maid. He would’ve been ecstatic if all you’d done is cook. Not that he was ungrateful, having someone who cared and cleaned his house was nice, but—it wasn’t expected. He was as capable of cleaning the bathroom as the next guy. Actually he enjoyed cleaning, he was a neat freak.

When he’d failed to do as instructed, you stepped up to reach for the zipper on his suit. “Rooster, I said—” He grabs your wrist, halting the action. You blink at his hand around your wrist.

“Bradley, c’mon—”

“I know what you said,” he challenged softly, eyes firmly holding you as the corner of his mouth lifted in a small, knowing smile. “Can you quit being Betty Crocker for two-point-five seconds and kiss me hello, or will that disturb the cosmic balance or somethin’?”

Blinking in surprise, you register the words for a heartbeat before more color spreads across your nose. The little blue ring around your eyes sparkles in the light strobing through the windows of the front door, creating the dark pools of life he remembers. You’ve always had gorgeous eyes.

You break out into a little giggle, rolling your eyes before he tugs at your arm, shuffling you the few steps it takes before you’re pressing your chest up against his again, hand on his pecs as his settle in around your waist again.

Your lids drop to a lusty half mast, head tipping back slightly in a way that says you’re ready for him to kiss you. “Hi, Rooster,” you greet him with a soft coo, a little chuckle in the back of the words that spreads fire through his ribcage.

“And?” His brow pops up, expectantly. You know what’s missing from the greeting.

You smile. “I’m glad you’re home. Happy Friday.” Nose scrunching up adorably, your tongue peeks out between your lips, teasingly.

The running tradition of wishing him a “Happy Friday” when he leaves for work, be it through phone call, text message, or your infamous sticky-notes in his duffle bag, has been going on since the two of you were dating. You conclude the workday with a “Happy Friday” when he’s dismissed for the day and off work, whether he’s seeing you or staying on base.

He loves it, and is pretty sure he can’t live without it. Like air, he craves everything you say.

He angles his head and leans forward to kiss you, softly at first, gently sucking at your bottom lip. The sigh you elicit is deep as you fold against his chest, your hands slowly dragging up his neck to play with his hair. Your tongue darts between his lips, playing at his front teeth in that subtle little way of yours that tells him you want to be Frenched, and he obliges, the gasp in the back of your throat bleeding into a moan that shoots straight to his cock.

Your nails are tugging at his scalp delightfully when you break the kiss, head tipping back to chuckle at the ceiling. Rooster’s half thinking about lathing his tongue across your clavicle, suckling at the hollow of your throat when you hum pleasurably, hand smoothing over his cheek.

Righting your head, you feel for the sunglasses on top of your head, and once you confirm they are present and accounted for, you reach to swipe the pad of your stained thumb over his mustache.

You’re looking at his lips again in that way, but his gut releases a growl that snaps your attention downward, and you’re laughing and pushing him back with a shove before he can reach for you again.

“Hungry much, Roo?” He was. He’d skipped lunch.

“Let’s get out of here for dinner,” he decides, checking his watch. “I’m starving.”

It's early for dinner, and if you leave now, there's plenty of time for that thing he's been trying to convince you to do all day.

The look on your face is horrific, like he’d just walked over your grave. Something in your jaw twitches, and the color on your cheeks deepens even more, if possible. Standing there, unmoving, your eyes drop to consider yourself again, and you laugh genuinely, shoulders shaking before you shake your head, no.

“We’re not going out—look at me! I am covered in plaster, paint, and God knows what else!” Your hands flow over your body, gesturing to the current state of yourself, “And not only that, my hair isn’t washed and I—”

You freeze at the look he’s giving you, like a predator seeking prey; like he’s got you on target lock.

His eyes zero in on you backtracking out of the entryway, and he moves to intercept you on quick feet. You're shrieking with laughter as he attacks you in a hug from behind, arm snagging around your waist to draw you back against his chest. Bradley’s burying his lips against the crook of your neck, and knows it’s a sensitive spot—you erupt in laughter, squirming against the mustache tickling the soft skin behind your ear.

“You’re the most gorgeous person here, baby, and we’re going out to supper,” he enunciates the order with peppered kisses up your neck and along your jaw, gently swaying you back and forth on his feet. You’re curled against his chest, giggling, hand reaching up to play with his hair again. “Get your shit. Let’s go.”

He halfheartedly releases you to do just that. Stripping off the flight suit that stinks like jet fuel and sweat and the stale air of his cockpit, he watches you snatch your purse from the island counter, looking around the floor until you spot the absolutely offensive Crocs you’ve discarded by the fridge.

Why you love those damn things he’ll never know, but you do. And, he can’t help but think you look like a million bucks as you call for Gander to follow you. He’s already clipping on the leash and slipping on his work boots that have been living by the door.

You stop to check yourself in the mirror you must’ve hung in the entry sometime this week.

He drapes his arm around your shoulders, drawing you close to press a firm kiss against your cheek while chuckling. Rooster pulls the door closed behind him with the toe of his boot as he hands you the keys to the Bronco that have been looped around his fingers.

Slipping the aviators low on his nose, you match the action with your own as he guides you to the truck, your arm through his. Helping you into the passenger side, he swats the door closed and leans through the open window, reaching for a curl that’s fallen from your messy updo.

There’s spackle dried around the curl and you brush his hand down, rolling your eyes. “It’s gonna take forever to get this shit out of my hair,” you whine.

A devious smile splits his lips. “I think we’ll manage,” he winks over the dark lenses as you sit back in the seat, offering him a smirk. “If you even remember it’s there by the time I’m done fucking you senseless, sweetheart.”

You snort, loudly laughing at the ridiculous attempt at an innuendo.

“Get your ass in the truck, Bradshaw.”

#100 followers celebration #100 followers #blurb requests #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #controlled chaos squad #call sign meerkat #answered asks #i love chickens #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw imagine #roosterforme

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blingblong55 · 1 year

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She's my Collar- Simon "Ghost" Riley nsfw

F!reader, nsfw, Stalker!Ghost, Military!reader

This is based on a request.

But first, let me give you a little back story:

You are a highly trained sniper, and expert in hostage situations. And for obvious reasons, you keep yourself off the radar when off duty. Your age is redacted mainly for your own privacy. The nickname came around your first deployment, and everything went south real quick. Your team for hours looked for your body. Soon they heard a bullet pass through them, your third kill, and from the stinking dirt you rose. (referenced Ghuleh/Zombie Queen-Ghost).

----

"Ghuleh!" your captain called out. You looked up. "sir?"

He showed you the file, a reassignment. "Good luck." your teammate spoke. You stood up and went into the office. "What's the occasion sir." your monotone voice vibrating on the walls. "A captain requested you, congrats Ghuleh, you have been reassigned to Task Force 141, give 'em hell." he placed the file on the desk and patted your shoulder as he exited the room.

On the other side of the world, Brazil. The team was in need of a sniper, and after much searching, Price found you.

----

Full name: r/l/n, r/n

Age: [REDACTED]

Alias: Ghuleh

Rank: Sergeant First Class (SFC), ACTIVE DUTY

Sgt. R/l/n, who was involved in Operation: SEVEN JAWS, was among the five only survivors from a team, of 17.

She is a highly trained soldier, by far one of the toughest I've worked with. No matter the time, day, week, she's there. She's fast, silent, no remorse. Loyal and highly deadly.

Combat ready.

Skills: Sniper, infantry, insertion specialists.

----

Price hands Ghost your file. He scans through some pages. "Don't think she's ready for us." he tosses your file on the table. Your file sits high on the pile of many other operators. "Laswell says she's more than good enough, other teams even the enemy have asked for her. She's been bribed before. Think we aren't the ready ones." He stands up and makes the call.

13 hours later, you arrived at the base, Price, Soap, and Gaz, waiting there as you got out of the helicopter. You walked to them, you sniper and bag in hand. A smile plastered on your face. "Sergeant." his hand reached out. "Captain." you shook his hand. For the next three hours, you started to talk to your new teammates. "Ghost is busy at the moment, but he will meet with you later. Now what's with the name?"

"Classified." You looked up, your hands cleaning the snipe. He chuckled.

And for two weeks, you only saw Ghost passing by, then after hours on the shooting range, he was there. "Nice shot." his remark made you turn. "You must be Ghost." You returned back to your position. "What gave me away." his voice hinting at a slight chuckle.

Headshot.

You left your gun and turned to him. "So what can you bring to us? Just snipe?" "No, but I'll definitely surprise you, sir."

"Mind sparing with me?" he broke the awkward silence that fell upon the room. "How 'bout a no for now. But whoever can give the poor wall the most headshots gets a sparring match after the mission?" You loved playing around with your old teammates. And knew that soap and Gaz were already welcoming of you. He took out a knife and threw it at the target, headshot. You wiped out a pistol from your belt, headshot.

"Why the nickname?" he asked, he pulled a gun from his boot, another headshot. "Why the mask?" you look away from the wall, headshot. "Shit face." he answered, this time he missed his shot. "tsk tsk. s'no good," you shook your head. "Rose from the death, allegedly," you added, another headshot.

And for about an hour, you and him asked and answered. For about an hour, this man was looking at you. Studying your face, trying to read any emotions. He liked the games you played. How you dodged certain questions by shooting at his target. When he ran out of bullets, there you stood, smiling, "Guess no sparring for you sir." You walked away, content with your actions.

----

Three weeks after that day at the shooting range, he followed you closely and noted any quirk of yours. When you and the team were training, Ghost would watch from afar. He had a notebook of all you liked and disliked, and when he passed through the small gym of the base, he'd write down the music you listed. (For personal reasons: you listened to the band Ghost. Ironic ik). At times he would try and sneak behind you, trying to see if you were texting someone. To his luck, you weren't.

After week four, he, although perceived as cold and heartless, had slowly fallen for you. It was obvious you tried to be on his good side. And it was clear you were in the team for a reason.

Mere infatuation, he would tell himself. But when you consumed his last thoughts before he slept, when he imagined times when he was inside of you, pleasuring you, making you his, it was more than infatuation. He wanted others to understand, you were his. His special soldier, only his.

"r/n, time to train." He approached you, taking your scent in. "Be my partner?" your voice rang through his ears. He looked down. "hm?" "You want to train with me sir?" your innocent eyes staring at his. He nodded and followed along.

He started to think of how you'd look. Completely naked, crying for mercy as he penetrated every inch of you. How your whimpers would fill the room around. How he would part your legs, eating you out, making you scream his name.

But soon that picture faded, and he felt his bulge growing tighter around his pants. You stood at the mat, waiting for him. "Scared you'll lose?" your smirk laying high on your lips.

God those lips, the same ones he imagined would eventually be wrapped around his throbbing cock. How you would be on your knees, taking all of him in that small mouth of yours.

"Got a death wish?"

"Maybe I do."

He soon took his gear off. His muscle shirt revealed the tattoos. "Need a picture?" his ego speaking before he could form any other word. "Perhaps I do." You tried to make him nervous, just so the match could end soon. It was something you tried with Gaz, which worked perfectly, he was so nervous around you, that he couldn't think straight.

"Ladies, when in doubt, use your femininity, men will go crazy, military men are dogs when it comes to us. They get nervous, so use that against them. R/n, you have a good shot at getting the enemy on his or her knees."

You struggled to keep him down. His body weight was more than yours, but you were much faster. Soon his body lay under yours. He tried to bring you down, or at least to flip you both. "So what did I win?" you joked. "Me." uttered. Thankfully no one was around, your eyes looking for some lie. "Pfft, good one sir." now it was you that was nervous.

You had found him attractive, but geez was that a comment. "M'serious." his voice softened. Your grip on him loosened. And that was your mistake. He flipped you both over, now he was on top, your bottom with your chest rising and falling rapidly. "What d'ya say? let's get out of here and go to yours?"

It was a dangerous play if he said his.

In his room, pictures of you sat on his bedside table. A sweatshirt you left on the bench hung on a rack. The notebook he dedicated to you lay on his bed. And the small shrine he had of you in his closet, exposed if you opened it.

"Wouldn't this be inappropriate?" you asked, he got up, extending his hand for you. "Just frowned upon," he answered. Your hand on his, he lifted you up with no hesitation. And you both made your way to your room.

----

He looked around. Taking the details in. But soon, small kisses on his neck made him lose all concentration. He lifted his mask, just enough for his lips to be exposed. He grabbed you by the neck and guided your lips to his. You smiled once your lips met. Melting under the kiss, he knew it was time to make all his dreams come true.

He travelled down to your neck, his hands meeting the ends of your shirt, he lifted it up, your arms raised and felt as the clothing left your skin. He laid you on your bed. His hands hungry, traveled around your now exposed skin. You tasted better than he imagined. Your soft moans leave your lips. With one hand on your back, he unclipped your bra and threw it across the room. Your nipple piercings looking back at him, he smirked.

Fuck, the things he was about to do to you. He kissed and softly bit your nipples. This made you moan even more. He flicked your now-hardened nipples with his tongue, his eyes never leaving your face. He loved to see your reaction.

You giggled. In a matter of seconds, his shirt came off, and he trailed down your pants, impatiently trying to take them off. "Take off yours, I'll do mine," you said, and he did as told. When you two stood there, somewhat naked, you laughed.

Sex can make humans crazy. You two back in bed, and he played with your throbbing cunt. "s'ready for me. Like a good whore." he said, your lips never leaving his. "S'mine."

Moans filled the room as he rubbed your now wet panties. He lifted your legs up, taking your panties off, he liked the view. Looked down and smiled. Desire mixed in between touch.

He got on his knees and he dragged you to the end of the bed. His hands parted your thighs. He was leaving wet kisses as he went closer and closer to your throbbing parts. "please" you moaned, wanting him to stop the teasing and just finger you. "please what love?" he eyes looking at yours, a smirk planted on his lips. "please, just fuck me" you let out as frustration left your voice. "Jus'because you asked kindly." he chuckled against your now sensitive skin.

His tongue pumped in and out of you. Your hands made their way to his head, and you pushed him more in. His fingers made their way in. He fingers you so much that you start squirting. He licked the liquid that was leaking. "Taste s'good" he complimented. "Fuck!" your hands burying more deeply on his mask-covered hair.

When he knew you were ready for him, he grabbed a pillow and tossed it under you, he rested your legs on his sides. His hands touch your face. His thumb made its way to your mouth, and he made you suck it. "Spit on it," he said as his palm opened. You obeyed, he rubbed his hand on his already hard cock. And when you least knew, he went inside you.

In response to him, you moaned loudly. He rapidly covered your mouth. "Don't want them to listen just yet," he said and he deeply thrusted inside you. Your walls gripping on him. He moaned and soon he got desperate for the speed. "Can I?" he asked,

"Can I fuck you harder now?"

"Yes, please."

You grabbed the nearest sheets and covered your mouth, your moans still loud although muffled. "Now they're ready," he said as he moved the sheet from your mouth, you gripped the sheets, feeling your climax come. And once it did you grew more sensitive, your legs started to shake, but the noise and cries of pleasure fed him more.

"Please sir, I can't...I-cant take it any longer." you cried, your back arching and your nails digging deep on his arms. He liked how you were slowly leaving your mark on him.

It drew him wild. "You can take one more can't you?"

And with tears slowly falling down, you nodded. "Good," he said. He was rougher, his fingers went back down. He loved how you came on him. His fingers rubbing your now dripping wet cunt. He licked his fingers, and he dove back in. Only to come back with more of you on him.

"Taste yourself, love," he ordered.

You opened your mouth and licked around his fingers, he moaned. "obedient little whore"

And as your tears made your mascara melt, he was more than full. This was the image he needed for today. You a wreck, wrapped around his massive cock. Your body is all marked by his hands.

He came, very deep inside you. He pulled himself out and gave you a deep passionate kiss. "You did so well." Now his voice was low. A smile from both of you grew bigger the more the kiss deepened.

"Can we go again?" your voice still filled with lust. "Maybe later, don't want the others to ask why you can't do drills tomorrow" he laughed a little.

He walked to your closet, grabbed the nearest towels and started to clean you and his mess that still dripped from between your thighs.

"Don't worry, I'm on the pill," you said panic settled in his eyes. "Wise choice." he soon finished cleaning, he even wiped the now dry dark tears from your face. He grabbed one of your water bottles and handed it to you, his hands covering you and him, who now lay on your bed. His arms around you, holding you close. You two passed the water to one another.

"Next time I won't be so kind."

"don't want you to be."

----

A/N: I had a lot of fun doing this one, took shorter than I expected. also tell me why as I was writing this and a old lady walked up behind me and legitimately said "she needs some piercings like yours." MA'AMMMM HOW TF DID YOU EVEN TELL I HAD SOME!!! so shoutout to someones nan , she deserves an award for the piercing part of this story.

<333 Thank you anon!

Tags: @lialacleaf

REQUEST ARE OPEN!!

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adventureswithteddy · 1 month

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Hi! I wanted to say Congrats unfortunately I can't attach but you and Teddy is on the Tumblr radar post. Thank you Teddy and Teddy's traveling companion / photographer for bringing joy with your blog!

:D Throwback to last year. Thank you for the love and support, I can't express how much it means to me that Teddy's adventures bring such joy to others. We'll be here for as long as we're able, spreading as much joy as one little bear can muster.

#teddy #adventures with teddy #photographers on tumblr #original photographers #bear #photography #adventureswithteddy #travel #plushie #plush #Ask #answer #answered #stuffed bear #stuffies #stuffed animals

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thesupreme316 · 1 year

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I was meant to send this earlier but I’m just now getting to it.

AEW stars of your choice reacting to the fem!reader having her/a wrestlermaiea moment, like winning a title or ended a rivalry.

AEW Stars React to: Your Wrestlemania Moment

Pairings: Eddie Kingston X Fem!Reader (Platonic?), Ricky Starks X Fem!Reader, Daniel Garcia X Fem! Reader, Mark Briscoe X Fem!Reader (Platonic), Jeff Hardy x Fem!Reader (Platonic?), Hook X Fem!Reader, Dante Martin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Supreme Speaks: Thank you to @hookerforhook for requesting and supporting me. I apologize for being off the radar as shit as been hitting the fan in my life. I will upload more posts this week. But as always, my inbox and requests is open for everyone. P.S you are loved and greatly appreciated.

Warnings: None really....i think, gifs are not mine, I repeat: gifs are NOT mine

Taglist: @triscillal @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey

Backstory

Winning the Title:

You won the Royal Rumble and had a first-class ticket to Wrestlemania

Where, also, you had the opportunity to the main event with Becky (Or Charlotte or whoever else you want)

After a feud that has been brewing for a couple of months, it all came down to this

You were gonna walk in as the challenger and walk out as the champion

And you did exactly that

All while giving the crowd and fans around the world memorable moments and five-star moves

After 15 minutes, the bell rung and all was said and done as you held the championship over your head

You celebrated with those at ringside (family, friends, fans) before blowing a kiss to the camera

But most importantly to the person who has always supported you, no matter where he is

Ending a Rivalry:

You have been in a rivalry with Liv Morgan (or someone else)

At first, you two were running the division as a tag team before being split up due to comparisons and underlying tensions

After months and months of scathing promos, vicious attacks, and iconic moments

You two were set to wrestle in a No Holds Barred match at Wrestlemania

Even though y’all weren’t the main event, ya’ll stole the show

With moments that involved blood (if you wish), ladders, kendo sticks, and breaking tables

In the end, you were the only one standing with your hand raised as the winner

You helped Liv up before hugging in the middle of the ring

Eddie Kingston

This man would be screaming “I told you so” to everyone and their mommas

Blows up your phone with spam of “You did good! I guess” “Drag her!” “Dawg you suck lol jk” “I’m proud”

You know how Eddie just randomly posts stuff? He’ll just post a pic of you at Wrestlemania followed by memes or old Japanese Wrestling

Eddie would try his best to promote your win to everyone in his line of sight

Cuts a promo and ends with “Also, congrats to Y/N! Hella proud of you skunk”

I also have a feeling that because Eddie is close with you, he would take this win for you a little more personally than how people would expect

He’s happy that you’re experiencing something that he has yet to have

Ricky Starks

MANS IS HELLA PROUD

Wishes he was there ringside, but Ricky sends his support from afar

Make three separate Instagram posts and five tweets about you, all talking about how you’re amazing (and how you’ll meet stroke daddy later)

“LOOK AT MY BABY WITH THE W”

Makes all of his friends congratulate you with posts and comments (will literally take their phones and do it for them if they don’t)

Refers to you in promos to make his opponents (especially ex-WWE) jealous

“Well, unlike you, my girlfriend was actually able to have her Mania moment”

Spoils with presents (wink wink) you as soon as you guys are reunited

Daniel Garcia

THIS MAN IS A MENACE WITH YOUR WIN

“Your win is my win right? So technically I won at Wrestlemania too?” “No.”

Makes your win his Twitter header (don’t matter if you’re together or not)

Will brag on Isiah’s vlogs and to the JAS

Will taunt people like “Did your girlfriend win at Wrestlemania? No, didn’t think so”

Like Ricky, he will post you on his Instagram and Twitter with simple or funny captions

Would genuinely be proud of you and all of your accomplishments;

And would definitely make your Wrestlemania picture/outfit his Home Screen

Mark Briscoe (My twin flame)

HOMEBOY FUNNY AS FUCK

Would definitely tell you that he saw it coming “I CALLED IT!”

Would send you some flowers that remind him of you and tells you that you did a good job

Mark will ramble on and on about your match to Penta and Fenix

Will turn a promo into being about your win

Will compare your victory to an animated movie where the hero wins all the time

“You know like that one film?” “Cars?” “No…Up! That’s what it called”

Although he hasn’t made it to WWE yet, he is extremely proud of you and will defend your victory till the very end

Jeff Hardy

THIS MAN IS BEYOND EXCITED

As a man who has had his Wrestlemania moment; he’s happy that he had yours sooner rather than later

Will recount his own Wrestlemania moments and reminisce as he looks at your bright smile

Jeff would be the one who dedicates his next gear and facepaint to your Wrestlemania gear

Gives you a spill (speech) about living up to standards and upstaging yourself on future occasions

“And if you don’t feel confident…just jump off the ladder, the floor will catch you”

I want to say that in future matches he would use your signature move or like a common move that you use

Jeff is so damn sweet and will continuously support your accomplishments

Dante Martin

This man is a cutie patootie

Darius would definitely post Dante’s reaction (involves him jumping up and down and screaming at the screen)

Would FaceTime you and just listen to you talk about the entire thing from your perspective

Would call/text you “I’m so proud of you baby”

Cites you (and this specific moment) as his inspiration for future interviews

Would have flowers delivered to you with a little note attached

Hook:

His silent celebrations speak volumes

Would definitely take you out to show how proud he is

I feel like that Hook would be the type to like a post about your victory/moment

But what would really solidify your relationship would be that he posted you on his story with a black heart

That’s also how he confirms your relationship

The wrestling world goes wild as he also wears a hoodie of your merch or posts a picture of ya��ll kissing

Like Dante would also have flowers delivered to you, idc what you say

"I love you and I'm so proud of you"

#aew #all elite wrestling #all elite wrestling imagines #jeff hardy #jeff hardy imagine #daniel garcia #aew hook imagine #eddie kingston #aew imagine #eddie kingston imagine #aew hook #daniel garcia x reader #dante martin #dante martin imagine #ricky starks #ricky starks imagine #mark briscoe #mark briscoe roh

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rubixa-seraph · 7 months

Text

My random AU thought for VashWood that emulates the spirit of Reddit threads... which I don't frequent by the way so I tried my best.

"Help, I hired a bodyguard for my precious twin, they disappeared for 2 years, and I just found out my brother eloped with my employee."

Comments in this thread may include:

"The first part of this story sounds suspiciously like the breaking news from two years ago where SEEDS Corporation CEO Nai Saverem's twin brother Vash went missing with his bodyguard. Not sure how subtle you were trying to be. But, uh, congrats at least your brother isn't dead?"

"Dude, you stopped giving me pay since we dropped off your radar, so I haven't been your employee for two years. If I'm still considered employed, you owe me back pay. Contract said to keep him safe. I keep him safe AND happy. Think you should give me a raise for that, *boss*."

And, cheekily:

"Thanks for introducing me to my husband, Nai! Love and Peace!"

Bonus, suggested by my friend:

"OP, the whole company saw this coming... and you didn't? We thought you knew!"

#trigun #vashwood

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pybun · 7 months

Photo

YOOOOO!!! CONGRATS ON MAKING IT TO RADAR

BRUUUHHHH

i blocked my notifs for that post few days after 💀

cat drawings truly are the master of social media algorithm

#submission #it feels like cheating 😭

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years

Note

CONGRATULATIONS LOU!! You deserve every like and follow. Congrats on 1,000!! 🥳 expect two requests from :)

Here’s my first request loves.

Plus-size read x Loki And Bucky/ Sugar Daddy AU 😉

Prompt 38 & 6 and trope 10 please:)

Once again congratulations Lou! 💋✨

Money Can't Buy Everything

Sugar Daddy!Loki x single mom!reader x Sugar Daddy!Bucky

Loki x plus size reader x Bucky

With one missed call, the whole world shifts

Warnings: references to teen pregnancy, age-gap (21 and mid to late 30s), sugar daddy/baby relationship, implied past BDSM, parental abandonment, little bit of angst, idiots in love

A/N: @lokiandbuckysdoll I love you so much!!!!!!!

WC: 2.4k

Minors DNI

6: “I want to have her babies.” 38: “I’m scared I can’t give you everything you want, everything you deserve.” 10: Single parent 6: Sugar daddy!au

1000 Follower Celebration

She hadn’t texted today. And considering that in her rules, she was required to contact them at least once a day, it was certainly strange.

Bucky stepped into his partner’s office, still staring down at her contact name on his phone. “Everybody out.” He barked, sending the occupants scrambling to leave, none of them keen on incurring Bucky’s well known wrath. Loki sighed, dropping the butterfly knife he was playing with onto his marble desk.

“Is there a reason you decided to interrupt my meeting, Barnes?” His green eyes narrowed at the bulky man who dropped into the black leather chair in front of him. He thrust his phone at Loki as he huffed and crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “Angel hasn’t called today.”

Loki hummed, taking the device and scrolling through their recent texts. “She has been quite busy with work lately.” Bucky’s dark eyebrows shot up. “We pay for literally everything for her. She shouldn’t be working, especially if it interferes with our agreement.” He hummed but didn’t say anything in response, just glancing at the scantily clad photo of her Bucky had been sent last night.

“It could be that you kept her up late.” He insinuated, handing the phone back. A faint pink blush spread across Bucky’s cheeks but he quickly covered it up with a cough. “We’ve both pulled all-nighters with her and she was still contacting us the day after. Besides, it was one little photo, nothing else.”

He crossed his legs, leaning back in the chair, looking at the photo of her. She was wearing the red lingerie they had bought for her last week, the lace beautifully criss-crossing her thick curves, leaving her tits exposed, the crotchless panties showing her dripping folds. Bucky licked his lips before locking his phone so he wouldn’t get too distracted from the task at hand.

The agreement had been made a year ago when the two heads of Sword Inc., the most successful stock brokers on the East Coast, quickly becoming the most powerful in the country. The two men bumped into the young art major at a gallery opening and were enamoured by her innocent beauty and intelligence. It just made sense.

They wanted someone to spoil beyond belief and she needed the money, and a little bit of attention from two of the most attractive and incredibly sought after bachelors. They gave her everything she could ever dream of, and all they asked in return was honesty, consistent communication, no catching feelings, and an open mind.

A very open mind at that, considering they were two men approaching their forties with sexual frustration coming out the wazzu. But she always followed their instructions, gave them what they wanted.

But now, she had dropped off the radar, her location turned off, no updates to her instagram story. Nothing. And Bucky was starting to get worried.

“Have you considered it might be her time of the month?” Bucky rolled his blue eyes. “Yeah right, she always texts when she’s riding the red wave. Besides, she’s been busy a lot recently, she could be trying to pull away.” Loki sighed, rubbing his temples, his long black hair falling from the elaborate braids he liked to tie it in. The day was stressful already without his partner disrupting his carefully planned schedule.

Bucky loosened his navy tie, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. “Well you can do what you want, but I’m going to check on her.” “You just want to get laid, Barnes.” He dismissed, turning back to the mountain of paperwork his secretary had dropped off this morning.

“Well that too but come on, she’s never broken a rule before, she could be seriously hurt.” Loki opened his mouth to respond but Bucky beat him to the punch. “If she isn’t hurt and is just being a brat, you know what we can do.” Images of their angel tied up with a vibrator strapped to her clit as they tortured her with pleasure flashed behind the man’s eyes, his black slacks getting tighter at the thought.

“Fine but I’m holding you responsible if any of these deals I’m missing today fall through.” Bucky smirked victoriously.

——————

The kettle was screaming but the woman paid it no mind as she rushed through her small apartment, picking up the mess as she went, trying hard to get as much done as possible while she had the chance. Wearing just a hugely oversized shirt which she stole from Bucky and some biker shorts, she was hardly the picture of sensuality. But she didn’t care how she looked right now, there were bigger things at hand.

She pulled the kettle from the stove, wincing as the steam bellowing from the spout burnt her hand. “Fuck.” She was already so close to tears, having stayed up the entire night, not getting a wink of sleep, as well as receiving a failing grade on a project she had spent months on, and the stress of an upcoming gala Loki and Bucky wanted her to go to next weekend had frayed her nerves.

Fat tears dripped down her cheeks as she collapsed on the couch that also doubled as her bed. Maybe she should break it off with them. Admittedly, they were the most fun she had ever had. They were attentive and sweet and could fuck her like there was no tomorrow. But the stress of being in a ‘relationship’ with them was becoming too much, especially when she had so much already on her plate.

Just as her breathing started picking up, panic truly settled over her chest like an elephant slowly putting pressure on her lungs, there was a firm knock at the door. Quickly standing, she straightened out her stained shirt, trying to at least appear somewhat put together. Another knock urged her on quicker.

“Coming!” She called out, stepping over the pile of laundry she had yet to deal with, her bare feet thumping on the hardwood floor. The woman unchained the lock and swiftly swung the door open, only to be greeted by the two men who she really didn’t want to see in this state. They looked down on her, concern immediately colouring their features.

“B-bucky, Loki! What are you two doing here?” She unconsciously stepped between them and the apartment, blocking their view. “You didn’t call today angel.” Loki stepped forward, forcing her to move one step back. “We were worried.” Bucky continued, stepping around her to enter the small space.

He observed the cheap apartment with disdain, obviously disgusted by the state of it considering how much money they gave her every month. Loki, instead, took their angel in his arms, cupping her plump cheek, thumb rubbing the dark circles under her eyes. “Are you alright angel? You don’t look well.” Attempting to look away, she swallowed the lump in her throat, tears threatening to escape once more.

“Y-yeah.” She cleared her thrust. “Sorry I didn’t call, I’ve just been really busy.” Turning out of his grip, she walked towards Bucky trying to prevent him from going further in. He eyed the couch, where a pile of blankets and a pillow lay, as well as an old cup of tea on the floor beside it.

They looked so out of place here. In suits more expensive than the apartment and everything in it, they stood out. They didn’t belong here. Her heart clenched in her chest as Bucky looked at her, clearly not convinced by her words. “Right. So you know that you’ve broken one of our rules. And that means…” He trailed off, letting the young woman fill in the blank.

She lowered her head in submission, avoiding both pairs of blue eyes. “I get punished. But!” Loki tssked, gripped her jaw in his long fingers, shutting her up. “No buts love, you know exactly what you signed up for when we made the rules. And since you are clearly alive and otherwise free, considering your state of dress. You should have called us.” She whimpered and tried to pull away but suddenly, Bucky was at her back, holding her in place.

His nose traced up her throat, sending a shiver down her spine. “Now, whatever shall we do with our little rule breaker? Oh I know-“

“Mama!” A little voice called out from the bedroom, a fit of coughs quickly following. She broke out of their embrace and scrambled into the back room, throwing open the door and disappearing behind it. The two powerful men glanced at each other, holding a silent conversation with their eyes before quickly following.

Their angel pulled a little bundle of blankets from the small bed, bringing it to her chest as she gently swayed, shushing as more whimpers rose from it. “You’re ok, bear. It’s alright. Mummy’s here.” She cooed, pulling back the blue blanket from their head. The toddler’s usual babysitter, the old woman across the hall, had gone home to visit her own children so she was on her own.

“You have a kid?” It was Bucky that spoke first, Loki was too entranced by the sight before him. She held the toddler close, eyes sad as they coughed once more, their little lungs straining. She ignored them, instead focusing all her attention on the child who looked so much like her, even down to the smallest of details.

The room was littered with expensive toys and high brand baby items. It was obvious now, where all their money went. Bucky kneeled and picked up a little stuffed rabbit that he had won for her on Coney Island during one of their dates. It was well loved, one of the eyes missing and an ear hanging on by a thread. He smiled fondly at it, standing back up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell either of you.” She muttered quietly, still urging the child back to sleep. “I couldn’t afford for her to get hurt. I wanted to but then I- I started catching feelings and I’m scared I can’t give you everything you want, everything you deserve.” Her voice was shaky and close to breaking. Bucky approached her, gently placing the rabbit in the little girl’s grasp as she reached from the blanket, getting a contented squeak in reply.

Loki’s arm wrapped around her thick waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, staring down at the beautiful child in her arms. “You don’t need to apologise angel. We understand. Your first priority was your baby. I just wish we could have helped you out more.” He planted a kiss on the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

The baby fussed once more before little snores escaped her lips and her mother moved to tuck her back into the bed, laying a small kiss to her overheated forehead. “Come one, she needs her rest.”

She led them back to the living room. “Would you like a cup of tea?” Bucky cupped her wide hip. “Go sit down, doll, I can take care of that.” Loki took her arm, bringing her onto his lap as he sat on the couch. He hugged her close with a firm grip so she couldn’t escape. “Now, why don’t we start with her name, that seems a good place to begin.”

His angel wiggled in his lap, trying to get comfy as Bucky poured three cups of tea. “Orsa.” A beautiful smile overcame Loki’s features. “A wonderful name. And how old is she?” The girl relaxed, happy to finally talk about her daughter to the men she loved. “She’s turning three in a month.”

Bucky sat on the small coffee table, the wood creaking under his weight, and handing over two of the mugs, taking a sip from his own. “And the father?” She waved him off. “You don’t need to worry about him. High school boyfriend that split as soon as he found out.” He nodded.

“And what’s this nonsense about what we deserve?” He growled, making her shrink in on herself and bashfully hide behind her cup. “I don’t think you’d want to deal with a single mom who lied about practically everything in order to become a sugar baby to get money to feed her kid and pay for college.”

Loki sighed, letting his head fall onto her back, trying and failing to disguise his laughs. “And what did you lie about my sweet?” Bucky placed his metal hand on her knee, encouraging her. “I have a kid?” “And…” He prompted.

“And…” She echoed, pausing, thinking. “So you aren’t a 21 year old art student from a small town in the Midwest who wants to be a teacher?” Loki teased, voice light and full of humour. “I-“ “We don’t care that you’re a mom, we love you all the same. Maybe a bit more now cause that kid is so darn cute.”

She beamed. “You love me?” Leaning forward, the blue eyed man cupped her cheek gently, pecking her slightly chapped lips. “More than anything.” He whispered against them, pulling away so Loki could do the same. The woman settled against her beau once more sipping from her cup. Bucky made a surprisingly good cup of tea.

“So, I’m guessing that’s why you have been busy.” She nodded. “Orsa’s been sick the past couple days and I’ve been struggling with her and college.” “Ok, so let us help you, I’m sure we are capable enough to take care of both of you. And then, once Orsa is better, you’re moving in with us so we can keep a better eye on you.” Bucky winked.

She tried to object but Loki cut her off. “No arguing angel. Now, how about you sleep for a while and when you wake up, everything will be taken care of.” Slumping against the lean man, she allowed her eyes to flutter shut, not having the energy to tell these men no. She’ll put up more of a fight later.

Once she was fully asleep, Loki lounged on the couch, stretching his long legs so that the young woman could rest on his chest, soothed by the sound of his heart. He gazed lovingly down at her, giving a kiss to the crown of her head, laying a hand on her back to keep her in place.

“So, I guess the no catching feelings rule is done for.” Bucky chuckled, picking up her discarded cup to put it down beside him. “I don’t think that rule would’ve ever stayed.” “You’re not wrong there.” He glanced at her once more. “I want to have her babies.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ. One step at a time.” “Yeah, you’re right, we have to get married first.” Loki sighed. “I should’ve stayed at work.”

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