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adrinktostopyourthirst · 2 years

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Bucky Barnes | One Shot | Three Hundred

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: Bucky always makes sure his best friend is okay, because that is what you need. He's caring, but very passive and nonchalant, because you need it. Not him. He doesn't need that. He doesn't need you. Does he?

Warnings: 18+. Fluff and smut.

Words: 5,8OO

Your head is feeling heavy. Heavier than normal. The mellow music in the background, the rumble of the voices of your trusted friends around you and the warmth radiating from Bucky pressed against your side, all make you feel like you might go cross-eyed if you continue to pry your eyes open when they so desperately want to close.

It has been a busy week of non-stop assignments. You got up early every morning to prepare and brief each other towards the operation, then tiring yourself out during the complicated missions that required most people on the team to get involved, and if you were lucky, you’d be home just in time to collapse into your puffy bed, unable to crawl under the sheets or change your clothes. It was incredibly fun to let out your energy and be together with the entire team again, but the week is catching up to you and Natasha’s idea of having a ‘boozy night in’ backfired greatly.

Your muscles are tight with tension and your cheeks are glowing with fatigue. But you have buried yourself in the corner of the couch, Bucky’s frame blocking you from the rest, so you can comfortably swim in the atmosphere of peace and relaxation around you. As fun as the back-to-back missions had been, there were a few close calls and you never really process the relief that comes from getting out alive until all of you are sat together, talking, laughing and most importantly… unharmed.

“I’m not carrying you to bed,” Bucky grumbles under his breath, taking another swig of his beer as he keeps his eyes on Thor who is telling some strange story about a man made of stone and a creature made of blubber. You kind of clocked out after the words ‘sex club on this purple-blue planet’, which was shame because you wanted to know what it was, but you couldn’t possibly comprehend those stories at this hour.

“Yeah, I know. Just… Just wake me up,” you murmur, your voice soft and breathy as you tilt your head to rest on his shoulder, the soft jitters of his arm making you hum in delight. The bulging pressure of Bucky’s frame against your side has you struggling not to bury yourself into him as far as you possibly can.

Your best friend sighs softly, biting back a smile when you nominate him to cuddle up against. He might not be someone who likes to touch and be touched, but you always found your sneaky little ways to make him tolerate it. He couldn’t possibly pry his sleepy friend off him to fend for herself when she can barely form a coherent sentence, could he?

“Alright. I’m waking you up. Go to bed,” he orders, his voice strict, and you sit up before he can shake you off. Swallowing hard, you pry your eyes open with all your might, making Bucky turn his head to you with eyebrows raised in amusement at your devastating state.

He had already noticed earlier how your heartbeat had slowed to a heavy thump, your breathing evening out and the goosebumps appearing on your skin as the heat seeped from your body with the last remnants of your energy. He may or may not have let it happen instead of offering you the blanket on his other side so that you would nudge into his side a little. Bucky, too, found comfort in making sure his friends were around and well after a week as intense as the one they just had.

Especially you. You always have your shit together and manage just fine – in your own way that sometimes had Bucky baffled, but it seemed to work for you. Yet somehow he wanted you to relax around him. It wasn’t something he realised until it had sort of already happened, but he wanted to be the person that would allow you to let your guard down. And he is. If Bucky even captures the slightest sign of you faltering or stumbling, he’ll make sure he is just within reach in case you need him to fall into. Literally and figuratively. Like your safe haven.

And sometimes a look was enough. He didn’t even have to smile at you – thank God he didn’t – but sometimes you would frantically look around and your eyes would fall on Bucky (after he swiftly inserted himself into your sight) and your shoulders would sag. You’d give him a tight smile and return to your task with your mind at ease. He sometimes chuckled at just how easy it was to make you relax.

But never would Bucky admit that he needs to see that look of ease on your face or he will crumble and fall into a pit of disfunction. He doesn’t want to think about what would happen if something ever were to happen to you. He doesn’t need anyone. He never did. He’s just making sure you’re okay, because you need it.

“Yeah…” you mutter and push to a stand, blinking rapidly to fight the sleep in your body as you ready yourself to make way to your bed.

“I knew you’d be the first to fold!” Thor bellows with a laugh, his story interrupted and everyone turning to you, and you wave him a dismissive hand as you drag your feet over the carpet.

“We can’t all be tireless Gods,” you retort with a little less fire in your voice than you intended, making everyone breathe different octaves of soft laughs.

But you stumble over your feet, or maybe someone else’s, and fall into Steve’s lap with a gasp. He quickly steadies you with broad hands on your waist and Bucky is on his feet instantly. His hands wrap around your shoulders as he steers you away from the group.

“That’s enough outta you. Come on, sweetheart.” Bucky chuckles and you sway lightly as he walks you to your room. Falling face first into your bed, Bucky grimaces at you with a disapproving shake of his head, peeling your shoes off.

“You have got to start making your bed,” he scolds you as you crawl up to the pillows and he throws the duvet over you.

“Just because you’re a neurotic Super Soldier with endless amounts of energy to make your goddamn bed, doesn’t mean you get to judge my life style.” Your grumble is close to incoherent and open your arms wide, “Now shut up and come cuddle.”

“Absolutely not.” He huffs, but you catch onto the sleeve of his blue Henley, pulling him towards the bed. He stumbles and topples over you, giving you a death glare as he raises his face, but you quickly capture him under the blanket and crawl into his side.

You purse your lips to stop the devious smile tugging at them, knowing that a powerful and trained Super Soldier wouldn’t let himself be pulled into a bed by a flimsy piece of fabric, unless he wanted to. So you bury your face into his shoulder and squeeze him as his scents engulfs you, warmth glowing against you like a furnace.

“Such a baby,” you mumble and wait for his stiffness to dissipate, humming softly when he gives in by wrapping his metal arm around your back and stroking his flesh fingers through your hair.

“I hate you,” he grumbles and sinks down, both of you laying in a heap of limbs into the softness of your bed as you finally let the endless depths of your subconscious submerge you.

As long as you’re okay.

…

“You okay, Buck?” you ask with a gentle frown when see him slump from his bathroom with a towel around his neck. He’s wearing simple leisure wear, nothing more than some sweats and a white t shirt and it makes your insides warm with how huggable he looks. Though it seems that if anyone needs the hug, it’s him.

“Yeah. Just a rough few nights.”

“Hmm…” you hum softly and turn on the sofa to face him. “Wanna watch movies tonight instead of trying to fall asleep?”

“All night?”

“Sure. Yeah, why not?”

“You can’t stay up all night…” he drawls, reining in the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You cheer silently at the sight and the first hint of his happiness.

“Sure I can! Oh, come on… I have to defend my honour now. I can easily pull an all-nighter.” You try to sound convincing, but Bucky raises his brows in an unimpressed glare.

“Liar.”

“So, you’re in?” you ask hopefully and you can see the soldier faltering.

“Can’t be worse than staring at my ceiling,” he admits with a shrug and flings the towel to the side before slumping into the sofa next to you. This side of the compound was usually empty around this time, most of the crew having retreated to bed or having settled to hang out in one of the larger common rooms. But Bucky and you enjoyed basking in each others’ silence sometimes, a little further away from the group. Not that you are the silent type. But Bucky doesn’t mind.

“What kind of movies do you like?” you ask him, already flicking through the multiple apps on the TV that could stream your next movie.

“I don’t know,” and he doesn’t really care. He isn’t here to watch a movie, he is here to drag you to bed when you inevitably fall asleep. He’d pretty much watch anything. It’s not that you fall asleep all the time and he is like the babysitter to send you to bed, but he rarely slept the way you could, so he always ended up the last to be awake. Little does Bucky know, you rarely sleep the way you do when Bucky is around.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’? Aren’t you supposed to have a list of movies to watch to fit into this century?” you frown up at him, referring to his little culture list in Steve’s old notebook.

“Steve’s book? Yeah, no. That would be a list of my victims,” he tells you dryly and you punch his arm, making him chuckle. You truly are the only one he can joke to about that. He would choke the life out of most people for referring to something so personal, but the traumas that constantly seem to roil and simmer inside of him, quiet down to a quiet lake of emotion whenever you touch upon it. His bones and muscles slacken when you merge gently with his old pains.

“Alright, funny man. What’s it going to be? Action or Disney?”

“Disney? Really?” His brows relax when he looks at you, a stoic look on his face to dare you to get him to watch a Disney movie.

“You know the fairy tale of Rapunzel?” You grin like a fucking child at him and he narrows his stare to stop the alternative from creeping up on his features.

“Yes…” He retreats his face warily as he waits for you to elaborate on your bold choice.

“Oh, you’re going to love Tangled!”

“Isn’t that a kids movie?” He frowns.

“It’s a fucking masterpiece.”

…

“You’re drooling over a cartoon,” he mumbles, eyes still on the screen.

“Flynn is the love of my life. Now shut up,” you spit at him, fumbling a full claw op popcorn from his lap as you watch intently. Bucky’s breath hitches at the faint rumble above his crotch and he scrunches his eyes shut for a moment, deciding to redirect his energy from between his legs to teasing you further.

“You buy into that whole grumpy guy, sunshine girl -bullshit?” he grumbles, judgement clear in his voice as his stare remains on the bright screen.

You turn to him with you mouth hanging open and a stupid heat creeping up your cheeks. How does he know about that? Something that specific…

“How do you…?” you stammer and he gives you an unimpressed glare.

“Read some of your books and saw some shit on the internet.”

“What side on the internet are you on?” you question him further, attention no longer on the animated motion picture. You’ll get back to the book thing, not yet ready to confront him about that. There are more important matters at hand.

“What do you mean?” he feigns a frown with a playful smirk and you narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. This stubborn, innocent and old man would not indulge into modern culture. Surely, not…

“N-never mind…” you mutter after a brief silence. You decide not to even try and explain the different sides of the internet to your friend.

“I’m the sunshine in this relationship, you know,” Bucky mutters after a long silence and you snort a laugh, making him chuckle as soon as he hears your delight.

“Obviously.”

…

Curled up on the sofa, you pull your knees up to your chest, nose buried so far into your book, you can’t see anything but the black words on the worn pages. You should know better than to read this …filth in public, but the chapter snuck up on you and you can’t. stop. reading.

He dropped to his knees, eyes drawn up to watch her as his palms slid up the back of her calves. Slowly, so slowly, his hands glided further and further up until they slipped under the hem of her dress. Fuck – you’ve waited over three-hundred pages for this. His mouth came closer and the pounding between her legs increased with every inch he stole from between them. She remembered his lips. The feel of them on her own. Oh, to feel them somewhere else… doing that thing with his tongue. Her knees nearly buckled, if it weren’t for his stare pinning her down.

“Hey.”

You nearly fling the book to the other side of the smaller common room at the sound of Bucky’s voice and clench your thighs to will the pounding between your own legs to settle down already. But your wide eyes have already been caught by Bucky and his brows are raised with amusement, the crinkles in his face not helping your little situation.

“What are you reading? Didn’t hear me come in?” he asks, slowly walking over and crossing his arms over his chest. He looks like he already knows, his dominant glower at your hunched frame in the corner of the couch challenging you. Lie to me, I dare you, his eyes seem to say as they glitter with mischief.

“No. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” you easily deflect his first question. “You and your trained sneaking methods.”

Closing the book and hiding it in your lap, you swallow hard as if resetting your feelings, the whining disappointment of being interrupted in the middle of that scene.

“What are you reading?” he tries again and you remain your empty gaze on him, thinking so hard of any answer to give him.

“A book.”

“Duh. What kind of book?”

“…Romance.”

“Romance?”

“Yes.”

He stays silent for a moment, his gaze rolling over your features. It isn’t often he allows himself the pleasure of someone else’s discomfort, but it is just too fun with you. And he isn’t stupid. He had to wait in your room once while you were still taking a shower, because you are always so slow when you shower, and he couldn’t help but snoop a little at the time. There was a time he used to enjoy reading a lot, it helped him get more familiar with all the languages he was trained in. Though he had never considered the light and bright storylines that were scattered through your bookcases. Bored, he had leafed through one of them and halted abruptly when his trained eye caught some disturbingly distinct words that he had only seem in a porn site search bar.

So he knows the kind of books you read and has to rein in his wonder at the balls you had for reading that in public, rein in his chuckle because of course you would get a kick out of reading that shit in public. Bucky never thought you were the innocent type, he knows better than that. The dirty nonsense that would leave your mouth after a drink, or when you’re too tired to think of the consequences, told him plenty.

He liked it. Bucky didn’t really allow himself to indulge in fantasies like you could and hadn’t been able to admit to his preferences when you asked him about it those few times. He had done some sexual stuff after returning from Wakanda, but it had always been a bit hasty and vanilla, too uncomfortable for his liking. He silently curses himself, because of course he is uncomfortable. It’s a trait he might never shed, but the things he would do if he could just let loose for once. That thought alone could send his cock skyward.

“You’re reading porn again, aren’t you?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and you let out a nervous laugh, opening your mouth to say something, but deciding against lying in the end.

“Way to expose me, Barnes.” You roll your eyes and he grins widely at you.

“It’s the way you are pressing your legs together that is exposing you, sweetheart,” he taunts, his voice having dropped an octave, and you stiffen at his words. Bucky has never acknowledged anything sexual, even when you so openly talk about it all the time, and it surprises you how natural it sounds rolling off his tongue.

“I wasn’t doing that,” you murmur, a tad shy all of a sudden.

Bucky tilts his head at you. “You telling me you’re not thoroughly turned on right now?”

“Bucky!”

“Oh, come on! Indulge me,” he nudges your knee with his metal hand and it shoots electricity up the limb to flutter in your belly. “Read it to me.”

“What?”

“Show me what the hype of written porn is about.” He shrugs and leans sideways against the back of the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can’t imagine it is better than watching it on video.”

He’s lying. Bucky likes porn as much as most men, but it is a quick fix. He can definitely see the appeal in dragging out the build up and reading from someone’s point of view. But admitting that wouldn’t get you all squirmy and uncomfortable and he finds he quite likes to tease you about this stuff. You always tease him, why not return the favour?

“Absolutely not,” you breathe.

“Pussy.”

“Bucky, I am not reading porn to you, are you insane?!”

But Bucky has already noticed your determined answer and he is too impatient to play this out a bit longer, so he quickly snatches the book from your hold and dives off the sofa, almost roaring a laugh at the impossibly slow response time you have to his actions.

Opening the book to the last page you ended on, he increases the distance between you as his eyes search the words. “She remembered his lips. The feel of them on her own. Oh, to feel them somewhere else… doing that thing with his tongue. Her knees nearly buckled, if it weren’t for his stare pinning her down,” he starts, his voice husky as he reads. “His eyes darkened as they finally landed on her throbbing, warm, aching –”

“Bucky!”

“ –cunt,” he smirks and tries to focus on the words in front of him, even though he suddenly realises who he is picturing as the girl in the book, his brain having latched onto the first person in his thoughts. “She felt as if she might pass out when she felt the fiery trail that the tip of his tongue traced up her bare thigh. So slow, so painfully slow. She couldn’t help the pulsating wave contracting her weeping pussy, another when he dragged his index finger through her folds.” Fuck, this fucking book. “His cock twitched at the feeling of her and the simple sound of the hitch in her breath. He couldn’t help but dip his finger in slightly. Just to test the waters, feel her around his digit. Scorching hot and fluttering with need…” Bucky drifts off.

“Bucky, please stop?” You ask him and his eyes, dark and heavy, snap to your frame on the couch. Your voice has dropped significantly and Bucky can’t help but notice the strangeness in your tone, pleading him to stop reading. Not because you’re embarrassed, no, but because it was turning you on.

And Bucky can’t help but let his nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, the air around him thick with your arousal. He can’t possibly make the distinction of whether you are turned on by the book, or by him, but he finds himself slowly caring less. Something tugs at him again. In his chest, his belly, his cock.

You’re uncomfortable. Horny and uncomfortable, aching and needy. He can read it on your face. And Bucky’s protective instinct can’t help but instantly want to make sure you’re feeling better. As opposed to the normal situations, a back rub, a nap, or a glass of water won’t help you this time.

And there you are. This wonderful, comfortable, beautiful person. Always teasing him, making his life better by making it worse. And something he hasn’t realised until now, a person who is completely and utterly… sexy. That sparkle in your eyes, those fleshy thighs, your lips, your hair, your everything. And your mind, especially. How it takes his body nothing to instantly respond to you, like an answer to your call.

Right now, you are calling again. Calling for pleasure and relief. Bucky’s legs stiffen to stop him from marching over and answering that call like he answers all the others.

“I’ll stop,” he replies stoically, shutting the book gently and walking over to you. He reaches out the book for you to take, but when your hands, albeit hesitantly, wrap around the cover, Bucky doesn’t let go and tugs both your hands to him slightly. “Is that what you want?”

His eyes are piercing into yours and you nod frantically, “Yes, I can’t take you reading any longer.”

He clarifies, “I mean the book. The scene – is that what you want?”

Your brows pull together and you search his face, disappointed to be unable to read it. “To have someone eat me out? Yeah… I can’t say I would mind it.”

Those words, followed by your breathy chuckle has Bucky’s fingers curl until his nails dig into the cover of the book. You talked about sex with him sometimes, but to hear you name such a filthy and delicious act so plainly? He doesn’t know how much more he can take. Is that what you felt when you heard him read? Because he will read you a bedtime story every night if this is how it makes you feel.

Bucky reluctantly lets go of the book and takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, running his hand through his hair as he takes a deep breath.

“Then why not go and get it?” he asks, staring ahead even if he feels your eyes burn into his side.

“No one will live up to the expectations of a book, Bucky,” you sigh and Bucky hates his name on your lips like that. Filled with disappointment. Absolutely hates it.

“Sure they do,” he shrugs and finally decides to face you, “all you need is that build-up.”

You swallow hard and your chest freezes with an inhale. “A build-up?”

“Yes,” he hums. “Those three-hundred pages of tension, a little teasing, some dirty talk…”

You roll your eyes with a low laugh. “Right. How realistic of you, Bucky.”

He likes that tone a lot more. His name from your mouth like that. Like he might be one of your favourite people. “Easy to get, sweetheart. We have a whole lot more than three-hundred pages under our belt.”

The nickname and the simple insinuation of his words make you curl up tighter in the cushions. You do. You have plenty of build-up. Plenty of teasing and tension, as far as you are concerned. But you never considered your friend to have experienced the same thing. You felt like a burden to him, always seeking him out and him grumbling as he helped you. But you could endlessly wonder. Or you could ask. Who is he to be putting you on the spot?

“What are you suggesting, Bucky?” you ask, even daring to sit up and lean in closer slightly. You should have expected him to not recoil too easily though. He wouldn’t even show you a weakness, despite your close relationship. No, he would lean into whatever you would give him.

“I think you know what it is I’m suggesting.”

You leap. Fuck it. “Say it.”

“You really want me to say it out loud?”

“Would I be reading books if I didn’t?”

He laughs at that, his lids lowering when his gaze narrows back in on you. His hand, draped over the back of the couch, is so close to your shoulder. He licks his lips.

“Say it,” you repeat.

“I’m suggesting,” he drawls, his voice having deepened, “that you spread your legs for me.”

You can’t believe it. Can’t believe he just said that. And how it sounded so natural, something you never expected. But you swallow the primitive response to his words that has your whole body reeling. You will play his part. You will find out just how far Bucky is willing to take his bluff. Sure, you had well over three-hundred pages of foreplay, but also well over three-hundred pages of trust to shatter with one stupid decision. However, you cannot currently find one good reason – not a single one – not to risk it all for him.

So you spread your legs for him.

His eyes widen slightly, an outside power pulling his sight down to the very core that you’ve exposed to him. He didn’t think it was possible, but his mouth waters, the absence of your taste on his lips grating his nerves. He drags his eyes back to yours, only to see you surveying him closely.

“Everyone is out. If I do this…” his voice is low and descends into a rasp.

“No going back,” you finish for him.

“I don’t want to go back.” There is no mistaking his words, his tone clear.

“Me neither.”

“Tell me,” he orders, his warm palms wrapping around your ankles, his thumbs stroking the skin of your shins. Even the metal is warm. Your breathing deepens and becomes heavier.

“I don’t want to go back,” you say. “I want this.”

“What? What do you want?” he asks, surely testing how far you’ll be willing to go with your confessions. You stay quiet, your eyes peering down into his as his hands slowly stroke up your spread legs, his fingertips grazing underneath the fabric of your shorts. “You want my tongue between your legs?”

Your pussy convulses at his words and you swallow hard. Fucking hell.

“Bucky.” It’s a whisper.

“I bet that book warmed you up for me, didn’t it?” he croons and you nod stiffly. “I wonder if it’s enough. I wonder if I need to spread you open a bit further.” His thumbs dig into inside of your upper thighs, spreading you open more. You pulse in answer, your chest rising and falling deeply.

“Why don’t you try and find out?”

Bucky snickers softly, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. “And there I was, thinking you’d be innocent.”

“You never thought I was innocent,” you breathe, the circling of his thumbs against your skin distracting you. More slick gathers between your legs and you wonder if Bucky can spot it through your shorts.

“Let’s just say I never thought I’d get to see this side of you,” he answers and licks his lips with his eyes burning into your warm skin. His fingers start peeling at the fabric and you wiggle your hips impatiently, ready to raise them and serve him.

“You severely underestimate yourself.” Your voice is quieter, more serious. You hope he can decode your vague confession. How much he means to you, how there is no one more worthy to speak to you like Bucky does, no one you could want more.

He stays quiet at that, however, his eyes raising to yours. His stare remains impassive, his eyes darting between yours as if trying to find something. But you stare back just as hard, unflinching, unfaltering. Something flashes across his face, a determination of some sorts, and he gives a quick nudge upward with his chin. An order. Raise your hips.

Serve me.

Your breath halts in your throat while you do as you’re told, lifting your hips as Bucky slowly peels your shorts off, your panties right along with them. Heart pounding at the relentless vulnerability of being naked before him, you stiffen. He twists you by his grip on your thighs, leaning you back against the back rest of the sofa and kneeling down between your bare legs. His eyes are on you.

“I have to warn you,” he starts and you gape at him, expecting some cocky remark that will make you roll your eyes at him. “If we do this – if you let me between your legs – it will not be the one time. I will be coming back for seconds and you will be coming, too. A lot. Tonight. Tomorrow. A week from now. This is it.”

You swallow hard, your eyes wide and frozen onto his relentlessly handsome face. He isn’t joking. In fact, you don’t think you have ever seen him this serious before. And for Bucky, that is saying something. But for him to admit something like that, hint towards borderline addiction when it comes to pleasing you – it does things to your heart and pussy that you cannot describe.

“Kiss me first,” you tell him. You need to kiss him first.

Bucky smiles – smiles – and lifts up on his knees, cupping your neck and pulling you forward instantly, giving you no time to come back from your request. When his lips touch yours, you let out a tiny gasp, the feeling of his lips against you making your chest lurch and your brain scream. His lips part and you moan softly into the kiss when your tongues meet, the strawberry texture of it making you want to whine. Instead, your hands grasp the collar of his shirt and pull him closer. He hums contently against you and both your breathing becomes more laboured.

Bucky pulls back a few times before diving back in, dragging his teeth over your lips and teasing you with the absence of him. Until you are a wet and throbbing mess between your legs. It is when you start wriggling in your seat, that Bucky chuckles and pulls back a final time.

“Getting a bit antsy?” he asks, his hands stroking your thighs as he sits back on his knees.

“Over three-hundred pages, Bucky…” you remind him.

He smiles again and pushes your knees apart once more, leaning forward as his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You lean back and watch him closely, your attention solely focused on the rugged man between your legs.

His thumb starts to slowly rub over your clit and you gasp at the touch, it somehow feeling incredibly unnatural to have Bucky in that position. It being his touch that is causing you so much pleasure – and pain. God, you’re throbbing painfully now and you cannot help the whine squeaking from your lips.

“Shh, I know. I’ll get to it.”

It does make you relax, his words and his tone, and you make yourself sink into the couch, your hands reaching down to run through his hair. He smirks and locks his eyes with yours, slowly – so slowly – leaning down to replace his thumb with his mouth. And you can’t help the heavenly sigh that spills from you when it finally makes contact with your aching core.

“Oh Bucky,” you moan and tug softly on his hair as you throw your head back. He’s there in seconds, bringing you to that long-awaited peak. Apparently, you don’t need much when it comes to Bucky, the man himself being foreplay enough for you to launch towards release.

“Mhm,” he hums, “that’s it. That’s good.”

The warmth of his tongue is making you shiver, the slurping sounds coming from between your legs making you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back. If only to focus on holding out, on not drenching his face. It’s sinful, the protective, passive and gorgeous Bucky Barnes on his knees for you. Capable of destruction and so much violence, unrelenting towards everyone and a grump in his social life – but he’s on his knees for you.

Your moans and words of encouragement are growing incoherent, your belly tightening as Bucky hauls you closer to avoid any distance between your drenched pussy and his mouth. He’s slow, meticulous and ravenous as he eats you, his fingers rolling into your flesh as if he’s savouring every place where he’s touching you.

He is.

It’s unreal, to have such a beautiful woman above him, moaning and panting and grabbing at him while he does something he enjoys so much. His mouth won’t stop watering. God, he’s addicted. He has to remind himself to breathe when his tongue is desperate to make the pitch of your voice raise, get you to your release. He has to know what it is like to see you come, feel you come, hear you come – taste your come.

He needs you, he needs you, he needs you.

Then his finger gently traces the inside of your entrance, wiggling around to spread you open, and you start choking on your moans, your breaths sounding outright painful and your fingers curling around his wrist and into the cushion below you.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky!”

He hums and wraps his lips around your clit once more, rolling it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it. And you crash, the tightness in your body coming to a high before every muscle and tendon snaps into pure euphoria. You buck and roll your hips into Bucky’s mouth, riding the waves of your orgasm with breathy, raspy moans that make Bucky’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

Violent tremors rack through your body as you come down and Bucky ceases his assault on your pussy, which is still pulsating heavily from the warm orgasm that seeps from your body. You finally open your eyes, looking at a Bucky who is completely alert and satisfied.

“Tomorrow,” he licks his lips clean, eyes shimmering with delight, “you’re going to read that chapter to me. And you’re going to sit on my face while you do so. If you manage to keep reading, I’ll make sure you keep coming.”

As long as you’re okay.

And maybe a bit better than okay.

#FRIENDS TO LOVERS BABYYYYYYY #its been so long i apologise #i shouldnt be writing lol #anywaysss you know i love writing about head and here it fuckin is again #pls lemme know what you guys thing (and if it is complete trash)#miss you guys #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #writing

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edenfenixblogs · 5 months

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Thank Your Jewish Friends Trying to Educate You Right Now

If you’re a leftist, and you have had a Jewish friend reach out to you to try and tell you that you’ve said something alarming or harmful or antisemitic: listen to them, learn, and say thank you.

I am VERY lucky in that all the friends I’ve personally reached out to have taken the opportunity to learn and grow and adjust their behavior. I have never told them that they should not advocate for Palestine. I have told them I want to advocate for Palestine WITH them, but I need to feel safe in order to do so. I need to feel like the people I’m advocating with don’t want me and my loved ones dead. Thank HaShem that they have listened to me. From the bottom of my heart, my friends are a blessing.

But I’ve seen an incredibly disheartening number of fellow Jews who have had the opposite experiences—being expelled from their queer communities and activist communities and book clubs and any space they once found community. This is horrid but it’s especially horrid for Jews. It’s a reminder that we are only accepted if we conform. We are only accepted if we accept abuse. Our presence is always tolerated, never wanted. Our views are not to be trusted. Our opinions are always suspect. Our motives are always sinister. Our acceptance is always conditional. And I think that hurts even more for us than you’d imagine, because our own spaces are no longer safe. We are already in diaspora. And now our synagogues and homes and other community buildings are being vandalized and attack. We are cut off from our own cultural community and now many of us are being cut off from our personal communities as well. It is a loneliness that most people outside of a diaspora will never know.

Im willing to bet that if you have/had a Jewish friend who you considered close but who seems to have disappeared from your life, it’s because you either didn’t reach out to them after 10/7 or you have failed to acknowledge the stochastic threat to Jews or the Jewish connection to Israel. Why is it important that you do this? Because we are your friends and loved ones. And when friends and loved ones tell you they are hurting, you should listen. When you say you care about someone, you should be willing to listen to them when they say you’re hurting them and then you should apologize. It is more hurtful than you can possibly imagine to watch people you thought cared about you decide to listen to people across the world who they have never met rather than simply have a conversation with a friend, because they assume that friend will dismiss the pain of Palestinians.

Many of you are assuming what your friends are feeling about Israel and Palestine, but you haven’t actually asked them. Many of you think that expressing sorrow for Israel or jews in the world, that means we cannot care about or want a better future for Palestine.

If you are lucky enough to have a friend who has tried to reach out to you, that means they are willing to forgive you for neglecting them in this time. They are willing to talk with you and try to explain their emotions in good faith. They want to find a way to advocate for progress with you. They want to keep you in their lives. They want you to understand our culture and history—not at the exclusion of anyone else’s culture and history—just at the inclusion of our own.

Because here’s the other thing: they won’t forget that you denied them understanding and respect and the benefit of the doubt. That’s not a threat. That’s a cultural feature of Judaism. We have famously long cultural memories. We remember the people and places we can trust and those who refused to give us peace and safety and basic kindness. We remember the people who targeted us, your friends and loved ones, simply because other Jews who we have never met behaved in ways you don’t understand and of which you don’t approve. You are blaming the sins of others on people you claim to love.

If someone is giving you the chance to undo the damage you have done on this, you should take it. And if you have expelled Jews from a space you once shared or failed to acknowledge their pain in this time—find them and apologize.

I am not Muslim, but I wouldn’t doubt that something similar is happening in Muslim spaces. Islamophobia and antisemitism are at terrifyingly high levels right now. And if you think you can’t support Jews without condemning Muslims or you can’t support Muslims without condemning Jews, you’re not only part of the problem—you’re the biggest part of the problem.

What we all need right now is unity, peace, solidarity, understanding, and education above all else.

#jumblr #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #islamophobia #jewish muslim solidarity

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chosetherose · 1 year

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Updated as of 6/30

The Eras Tour *Surprise Songs*

Taylor said her goal is to not repeat each show’s surprise songs so I thought it would be fun to track them as the tour goes on! Black strikethrough is included in the main set list. Purple strikethrough are included in the main set list but have been switched up at some show/s. Blue songs Taylor played but might be repeated due to messing up.

Taylor Swift

Tim McGraw (3/17) • Picture to Burn • Teardrops on My Guitar (5/5) • A Place in This World (4/22) • Cold as You (4/23) • The Outside • Tied Together with a Smile • Stay Beautiful• Should’ve Said No (5/19) • Mary’s Song (Oh My My My) • Our Song (3/24) • I’m Only Me When I’m with You (6/30) • Invisible (5/20) • A Perfectly Good Heart

Fearless

Fearless • Fifteen (5/6) • Love Story • Hey Stephen (5/14) • White Horse (3/25) • You Belong With Me • Breathe• Tell Me Why• You’re Not Sorry (4/21) • The Way I Loved You • Forever & Always (5/13) • The Best Day (5/14) • Change • Jump Then Fall (4/2) • Untouchable • Come In With The Rain • Superstar • The Other Side Of The Door (4/28) • You All Over Me (6/3) • Mr. Perfectly Fine (6/16) • We Were Happy • That’s When • Don’t You • Bye Bye Baby • Today was a fairytale (4/22)

Speak Now

Mine (5/7) • Sparks Fly (5/5) • Back To December • Speak Now (4/13, Taylor restarted part of the song but did not confirm it could be played again) • Dear John (6/24) • Mean (4/15) • The Story Of Us (6/17) • Never Grow Up • Enchanted • Better Than Revenge • Innocent• Haunted (6/9) • Last Kiss • Long Live • Ours (3/31) • If This Was A Movie (6/23) • Superman

Red

State Of Grace (3/18) • Red (5/21) • Treacherous (4/13) • I Knew You Were Trouble • All Too Well • 22 • I Almost Do (6/9) • We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together • Stay Stay Stay • The Last Time (6/16) • Holy Ground (5/27) • Sad Beautiful Tragic (3/31) • The Lucky One (4/2) • Everything Has Changed • Starlight • Begin Again (4/23) • The Moment I Knew (6/4) • Come Back… Be Here (5/12) • Girl At Home • Ronan • Better Man (5/19) • Nothing New • Babe • Message In A Bottle • I Bet You Think About Me (4/30) • Forever Winter • Run • The Very First Night • All Too Well – 10 Minute Version

1989

Welcome To New York (5/28) • Blank Space • Style • Out Of The Woods (5/6, Taylor confirmed it might be played again) • All You Had To Do Was Stay • Shake It Off • I Wish You Would (6/2) • Bad Blood • Wildest Dreams • How You Get The Girl (4/30) • This Love (5/13) • I Know Places • Clean (4/1, Taylor confirmed it might be played again, 5/28) • Wonderland (4/21) • You Are In Love • New Romantics

Reputation

…Ready For It? • End Game • I Did Something Bad • Don’t Blame Me • Delicate • Look What You Made Me Do • So It Goes… • Gorgeous (4/29) • Getaway Car (5/26) • King Of My Heart • Dancing With Our Hands Tied • Dress • This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things • Call It What You Want • New Year’s Day

Lover

I Forgot That You Existed • Cruel Summer • Lover • The Man • The Archer • I Think He Knows (5/21) • Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince • Paper Rings (6/23) • Cornelia Street • Death By A Thousand Cuts (4/1, Taylor confirmed it might be played again) • London Boy • Soon You’ll Get Better • False God (5/27) • You Need To Calm Down • Afterglow • Me! • It’s Nice To Have A Friend • Daylight (6/24) • All of the Girls You’ve Loved Before

Folklore

The 1 (replaced IS multiple shows) • Cardigan • The Last Great American Dynasty • Exile with Bon Iver • My Tears Ricochet • Mirrorball (3/17) • Seven (spoken, 6/17) • August • This Is Me Trying (3/18) • Illicit Affairs • Invisible String (replaced by T1 multiple shows) • Mad Woman (4/15) • Epiphany • Betty • Peace • Hoax • The Lakes (6/2)

Evermore

Willow • Champagne Problems • Gold Rush (5/12) • Tis The Damn Season • Tolerate It • No Body, No Crime • Happiness • Dorothea • Coney Island (4/28) • Ivy • Cowboy Like Me (3/25) • Long Story Short • Marjorie • Closure • Evermore (6/30) • Right Where You Left Me •It’s Time To Go

Midnights

On 4/14 Taylor changed the rule: ALL SONGS ON MIDNIGHTS MAY BE REPEATED. I’m adding the dates to the midnights surprise songs but they will remain in black text since they can be repeated.

Lavender Haze • Maroon (5/26) • Anti-Hero • Snow on the Beach (3/24) • You’re on Your Own, Kid (4/14) • Midnight Rain • Question…? (5/20) • Vigilante Shit • Bejeweled • Labyrinth • Karma • Sweet Nothing • Mastermind • The Great War (4/14) • Bigger Than the Whole Sky • Paris • High Infidelity (4/29) • Glitch • Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve (5/7) • Dear Reader • Hits Different (6/4)

Other

I don’t wanna live forever (6/3)

#reach out if I’m missing anything #eras tour #eras tour set list #surprise song #Taylor swift #taylor nation

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butdaddyilovehim-hs · 8 months

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Tolerate It

Inspired by 'Tolerate It' by Taylor Swift :)

"I know my love should be celebrated... but you tolerate it."

Quite frankly, Y/N isn’t sure how much longer she can take this. It’s the second time this week Harry hasn’t been home for dinner and it’s only Wednesday. Y/N is normally fine looking after baby Elle by herself, she knows Harry has important things to do and people to meet and deals to close its just… lately he’s been different. More withdrawn, constantly at work and seemingly finding less and less time to spend with his wife and 6 month old daughter. That morning he had left in a whirlwind, pressing a quick, barely there kiss to her cheek before promising to be home for dinner at 7.

Y/N swirls what’s left in her wine glass as she glances over at the clock that reads 9:14. He’d be out for a while yet, she knew. Sighing, she puts his plate in the fridge, washing the dishes before getting ready for bed, popping into check on Elle. She smiles softly at the rise and fall of her daughter’s chest as she sleeps, leaning down and kissing her head then moving away from the crib and towards her own bedroom. It’s Y/N and Harry’s shared room but Y/N can’t remember the last time she actually woke up to Harry still in the room. Or the last time she fell asleep with him beside her.

Y/N intends to wait up for her husband but when her eyes flutter closed she can’t seem to stop them. They open after what only feels like minutes later when the bed dips on Harry’s side. She blinks sleepily, watching him slide into bed and prop himself up against the pillows, reading with his head low. She shuffles, catching his attention and when he meets her gaze, she smiles tiredly up at him.

“Hey. Thought you were going to be home for dinner?”

“Things got busy. Ate at the office.” He turns his attention back to the book he’s reading and Y/N’s smile droops.

“You could have called. I waited for you.”

Harry scoffs at her confession, rolling his eyes.

“Y/N I don’t have time to give you a call every time I’m going to be a bit late coming home. Get off my case, it’s fucking annoying.” His voice rises slightly in volume as he gets frustrated, but not loud enough to wake Elle in the next room.

“I’m not trying to be annoying H. I’m just saying that I missed you today and as your wife it would just be nice if you could let me know.” Y/N sighs, rolling over, her back to him as she tries to go back to sleep. Her breath hitches as she feels Harry come closer to her, kissing her shoulder before burying his face in her neck.

“Sorry my love, I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just really caught up lately.”

“I know you are.” Y/N tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as he sponges kisses on her neck, shoulders and then slowly down her arm.

“Tomorrow. Take Elle to my mum’s and I’ll be home around 5. Let’s make it a date night, just us.” At this, Y/N turns to face him, a small grin on her face.

“Yeah? Just us?”

“Just us bub. Promise I’ll be home in time and I’m all yours.”

Y/N believes him. So, she does what Harry says. Take’s Elle over to Anne’s around midday, the older woman over the moon to spend some extra time with her granddaughter. Around 2, her best friend makes a surprise visit to the house, finding Y/N slaving away in the kitchen.

“Are you cooking for 12?” Lucy laughs as Y/N rushes around putting finishing touches on what seems to be a ten course meal.

“No… just Harry and I. But I’m making all his favourites. I want tonight to be special for us. He’s been so busy with work lately.”

“What are you wearing?” Lucy smirks at Y/N who simply blushes.

“It’s on the bed.” She says referring to the lacy white lingerie set that Harry had bought her for their first anniversary. Lucy wolf whistles, causing Y/N to turn even redder.

“Lucky husband, that Harry of yours. Now hurry up and finish so we can have a glass of wine before he gets here and I have to go.”

Y/N grabs a bottle and the two women sit and chat for a few hours before Y/N realises it’s 10 to 5 and she needs to go and change. She kicks Lucy out as politely as possible before getting ready and waiting for Harry.

The clock ticks over to 5:00pm. Then 5:01pm. Then 5:20pm.

At 5:30pm, she calls. His phone is off.

At 6:00pm, she finishes a second bottle of wine, and then she calls again. His phone is still off.

At 6:17pm, Lucy sends her a link to an article and Y/N feels the sudden urge to throw up. Because the article is about Harry and the headline reads: Trouble in Paradise? Styles and Co CEO Harry Styles seen partying on a yacht with ex Kendall Jenner, just months after celebrating his third wedding anniversary and welcoming daughter Elle Styles.

The photos are incriminating. Kendall’s face in his neck, his hands around her waist. Kendall getting into a cab, leading Harry behind her.

Lucy calls. Y/N doesn’t answer.

At 8:15pm, Y/N picks herself up off the floor, goes upstairs, grabs a bag throws essential things inside for her and Elle and gets her keys.

That’s when the door opens and her husband walks, stumbles, through the front door.

“Sorry I’m late. Something smells good.” Harry’s words have a slight slur to them, she knows he’s been drinking but she can’t bring herself to care. He steps closer and she wrinkles her nose.

“You smell like her.” Y/N comments, willing herself not to cry.

“Who? Kendall?” Harry is suddenly ten times more alert, worry evident on his face.

“Nothing happened Y/N.” “Sure didn’t look like nothing. In fact the photos were… quite something.”

“Love… I don’t- I put her in a cab and she went home. It was supposed to be a quick meeting and then it turned into a yacht event and I know you wanted me home earlier but I-”

“This isn’t about me wanting you home earlier Harry. I wanted this night for us. Because we’re drifting apart and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“You’re being dramatic, I’ve just been busy.”

“You’ve been “busy” for 4 months Harry. Are you not in love with me anymore?” Y/N’s voice trembles but she holds his gaze. Harry feels his heart drop into the floor.

“…What?”

“Tell me it’s all in my head. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Y/N calm down. You’re acting insane, of course I love you.”

“Harry, you make me feel annoying when all I want is for you to love me back as much as I love you! You just sit there and you… you just tolerate me. And I don’t deserve that. I sit here in this stupid mansion you bought for us with our daughter who probably doesn’t even know that you’re her father because you’re never around. I just sit here and I wait with Elle. For you to come home to me, for you to tell me you need me as much as I need you. And I don’t think I can do it anymore.” She pushes past him to the garage and he grabs her wrist gently. “Y/N. Baby where are you going?”

“Bit late for the pet names H. Don’t you think?” She scoffs.

“I need space. Come find Elle and I if you think you’re going to be able to show up for us, because I don’t feel the need to explain to our daughter why she doesn’t have a fucking dad.”

Harry steps back, looking at her helplessly as her words cut him deep.

“Bye Harry.”

Read Part II here

Tags:

@lukesaprince @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfever @kathb59 @indierockgirrl @bxbyysstuff @gills-lounge

#harry styles #hslot #love on tour #harry styles au #harrystyles #harry styles fic #harry styles fics #harry styles smut #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles ceo

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rapz-rites · 9 months

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Hearts

Damian Wayne x Reader

You and your soulmate can feel each other's heartbeat

A/N: for @thesuperiorrobin btw I started writing this super late at night so it might not be the best but I hope you all like this

Word Count: 1.1k+

Warning(s): Barely proofread, loophole cursewords

You jolted up from your sleep. 4 times a week, 3 if you’re lucky. Like clockwork. Your soulmate's heart beats so fast, so hard, it wakes you up. You would think he was having a heart attack.

You don’t know what your soulmate does that gets his heart beating so fast in the middle of the night. You found this whole heartbeat soulmate thing so stupid. Of all the things you and your soulmate had to share, a heartbeat, seriously?

On everyone’s 10th birthday, they start “sharing” their soulmate's heartbeat. It's not really sharing though, so you didn't understand why they explained it that way. Probably to romanticize it.

You couldn’t go back to sleep until about 4am. But that didn’t matter because your alarm went off 2 hours later. You hated your life. Not only did you get no sleep because of your stupid soulmate but you had to get ready for school, a school filled with pompous a-holes. Luckily it was your last year and you only had a few more months left until you graduated.

You walk into class late, everyone looking up at you. Luckily for you, your teacher is nice enough to let it slide.

“Hey” you said to the boy you usually sat by. His name was Damian, Damian Wayne. Yup. As in Billionaire “playboy” Bruce Wayne.

“What now L/N?” He asked. He looked up at you with an annoyed expression. Damn. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

“Do you think you could help me with number 5?” You looked at him with pleading eyes. “Pretty please.”

“Sure.” And he did. You didn’t really need help, you just wanted to bother and talk to Damian.

The two of you were close acquaintances but not friends. He was you favorite pompous rich a-hole and you were one the most tolerable people at GA to Damian

After this class you were done. You were transferring books to and from your backpack when your best friend, Lienne, pulled up next to you.

“What are you doing after school? Do you want to have a sleep-” If you didn’t stop her now it would turn into an investigation.

“I’m working at the clinic after school, but I can come over after and we can have a sleepover all you want,” you smiled at her.

“Ok. See you after work. Oh, and bring those chips I like please,” she says walking away. You chuckled at her.

You worked at a pet shop clinic. You loved it. You weren’t a people person, you were a pet person. I loved cats, dogs, and hamsters. Any domestic house pet you could get your hands on, you loved it. They were so much easier to deal with than people.

You were peacefully playing with a hamster while it was quiet in the store. Suddenly 2 men rush in. You put the hamster back in its cage and turned to the 2 men. They both looked like they were freaking out.

“We need your help! Like it's an emergency,” the tall one said. He had jet black hair and a white streak at the front. Then the second one spoke up.

“It’s our brother's cat,” the other one said. He was shorter, maybe 5’10/11. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He handed you an adorable little tuxedo cat. You couldn’t help but awe at it.

“Sure, what happened? Our vet is currently busy, but I can check him out and get him to see him as soon as possible.” you walked them into an exam room in the clinic. As you were assessing the cat, your boss walked in.

“What's going on here?” He asked. You explained what happened and gave your assessment of the cat to your boss. He complimented you on your good work and took over. You were happy until you felt a strain on your heart. Something was wrong with your soulmate. It felt like he was having a panic attack or something. You went to the front of the store to sit down. You were trying to steady your heartbeat to cancel his out. But of course as you sat down, someone walked in. It was none other than Damian Wayne.

“Where’s Alfred? Where’s my cat?” he asked. You walked up to him to get his attention. You were holding onto his arm while he was looking around frantically.

“Your cat? Is he a tuxedo cat?” He immediately looked down at you. “You’ve seen Alfred? Where is he?”

“Your brothers brought him in,” you explained to him calmly. You were already trying to calm your soulmate’s heartbeat and now you have to calm a frantic billionaire son. He was spouting nonsense you didnt want to listen to while you ushered him to a chair.

“Listen Wayne,” you said, shutting him up. “Your brothers brought him in. I assessed him and the vet is now with him. He's going to be fine”

You could tell your words helped, but he was still anxious. It was kinda cute that he cared this much for a cat. One time you saw him roll his eyes at a school assembly about suicide. But he was still breathing heavily. At this point your heartbeat was calm but you could still feel your soulmate’s fast heart.

You took Damian’s hand and put it over your heart, and you did the same to him. That's when you felt it. People who already met their soulmates said once you know it's this indescribable, thrilling feeling. They were right. It was like time stopped and nothing else mattered. Your hearts synced and that's all you both felt. You both stared into each other’s eyes. You opened your mouth to speak but was interrupted.

“Are we interrupting something?” The tall brother asked. You quickly moved back from Damian, putting your hands at your side.

“Yes”

“No”

You both spoke in unison. You looked at him, but he was glaring at his brothers.

“So what did Dr. Goldwin say?” you asked, smiling before it got awkward.

“OMG OMG OMG!” Lienne squealed, jumping around her room. “YOUR SOULMATE IS DAMIAN WAYNE.”

You weren’t surprised at her reaction when you told her. She always had a knack for the dramatics. As she was jumping around, spouting how beautiful your wedding was going to be, you got a text from your “future husband”.

Damian ☹️: Hello Y/N

Let’s go out on a date Saturday

Send me your address and I'll pick you up at 2pm

Y/N : I’d love to go out with you 😉

You’ll tell Lienne once she calms down. She's going to freak.

So… what do you think???

I’m working on request so plz don’t think I forgot abt those.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian al ghul #damian al ghul x reader #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #batfam #batfam x reader #dcau #dc universe #dc comics #jason todd #tim drake #damian al ghul wayne #damian al ghul x female reader

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ghost-with-a-teacup · 10 months

Note

hi!! i have a platonic req for miguel x chaotic teen reader who has a bad relationship with her dad, just a man who lost his daughter and a girl who never had a proper father.. what could go wrong..(im a slut for found family)

𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Platonic!Reader

Summary: After a really bad fight with your father, you escape to HQ, the one place you can find solace. To take your mind off things, you go on a mission with Miguel, but it seems you're a little too in your head.

Warnings: Arguments, swearing, and violence in the beginning so be cautious.

A/N: Finally back with some good ol' hurt/comfort, and found family :3

✧✧✧✧✧

“I’m sick and tired of having the same argument with you over and over again!” you say, the anger rising in your veins as your frustration bubbles over. You blink harshly as you try to force the angry tears down, your father seething angrily in front of you.

“Ever since Mom died, you’ve been unbearable. I’m an adult, you can’t control my life anymore pretending like it's love when I know damn well you don’t give a flying fuck about me,” you say, pointing an angry finger at him.

“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO,” he shouts, stomping over and grasping your hair harshly as you let out a yelp.

“I give you a roof to live under, food to eat. I raised you, I am your father, and you think you can back talk me you brat?” he spits in your face, and your recoil in disgust.

It was always like this. He justified giving you the bare minimum as being a father, when the house you lived in was never really a home. Not after your Mom died, when everything fell apart.

When you became your world’s Spiderman.

“You were a spectator in my life, you were never truly my father,” you whisper harshly as his grip tightens on your hair. His eyes narrow at yours before he throws you to the ground harshly.

“Get out,” he says.

“W-what?” you ask, your body radiating with pain from the impact.

“GET OUT!” he shouts, leaning over you menacingly. “You think you’re so grown, then get the fuck out of my house because I am sick and tired of you. You don’t think I’m your father? Then I won’t be. You’re lucky your whore of a mother wanted to keep you around because in my eyes you were always my one worst mistake,” he says, and his words hit you like a freight train.

You knew he never loved you. Even before your Mom died he never truly seemed to like you around, only tolerated you because of how much your Mom adored you.

When she died, the substance abuse began. You practically raised yourself and learned how cold the world truly was. You never knew the love of your father, but even still, it hurt to hear him say what you always understood deep down.

“Fine,” you say softly, standing up and opening a portal to HQ. His eyes widen as he watches, but you don’t even give a damn anymore if he sees.

You were never going to see him again anyway.

In an instant, you were gone.

You emerge on the other side, right into the lobby of the Spider Society. A few familiar faces recognize you, waving in greeting. You wave back with a smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Hey Lyla?” you call out, and she appears hovering over your shoulder with a grin.

“What’s poppin', buttercup?” she says cheerfully, and the corner of your mouth quirks up a bit.

“I was just wondering if Miguel was around,” you say, and she reappears in front of your face.

“He was actually about to leave for a mission, want me to tell him to wait up?” she asks, and you nod.

“That would be great, thanks,” you say, letting out a soft sigh of relief.

“Already done, you know where to find him,” she says, before throwing up a peace sign and disappearing.

Miguel was…you didn’t exactly know what to call him. A mentor? A friend? Guardian maybe?

All you knew was that (despite a rocky start), he was one of the few people across the multiverse that you truly trusted. He was harsh at times, rough around the edges and gruff…but he was like a light you’ve never known.

You both had your baggage, and you have both lost a lot in your lives, but maybe that’s why it worked. Whatever it was.

“Miguel?” you call out, looking around the monitoring room. He wasn’t on his usual platform which was odd. All of a sudden you get that familiar tingle on the back of your neck, and you whip around.

“HOLY GODS,” you exclaim as you see him hovering in the shadows like a wraith ready to leap out for the attack. “What are you doing?!”

He only chuckles at your expense, walking out with an amused grin on his face.

“Just making sure your reflexes are working properly,” he states simply.

“By giving me a heart attack in the process?” you say with an exaggerated frown, and he snorts.

“Don’t be dramatic, besides, you make stupid faces when you get scared,” he says, and you gasp offendedly.

“Well, you always look stupid so beat that,” you retort, and his hand grasps his chest dramatically.

“How could you? After everything we’ve been through, you think I look stupid?” he says, and you can’t help the breathy laughter that escapes. But before long the smile is replaced by a frown.

You could never really hide your emotions around him, he could always read you too well.

“You alright, kiddo?” he asks. He tried to mask his concern, but his eyes never lied.

“Never better!” you say, your tone overly sarcastic. Miguel eyes you with an expression that says ‘That’s a load of shit’, but you just brush him off with a nervous chuckle.

“You were about to go on a mission right? Can I come along? Cool, great, awesome,” you say, not even waiting for his reply. You press a button on the back of your neck that replaces your clothes with your Spider Suit and turn to look at him expectantly.

“Let’s just pack this guy up, in and out right?” you say, and he sighs.

“Fine, you can come along,” he relents, opening up a portal.

“You do realize I was going to come along either way, right?” you say, and he shakes his head knowingly.

“I know, you have the stubbornness of a bull but it helps me feel at least somewhat like the leader of the Society if I get the final say,” he says, his voice almost small which makes you laugh out loud.

“There, there,” you say, patting his shoulder as the two of your approach the portal together. “Everyone around here respects your authority,” you say with a grin before your mask covers your face.

“Except you,” he scoffs.

“Except me,” you say in turn.

“So what’s the deal with this anomaly?” you ask as the two of you emerge on the other side, not wanting to go in completely blind if you didn’t have to. You were reckless, but you weren’t completely stupid.

“Came in through a tear from Earth-848710. Has the power to manipulate metal to his advantage. At the height of his powers he has the ability to control even the iron in our blood so watch out,” he instructs.

“Ooh, freaky. What, like blood bending in Avatar: The Last Airbender?” you ask, and a confused expression washes over Miguel’s face which makes you giggle a bit.

“Like what?”

“Oh Miguel, don’t worry, we’ll binge watch it later, just you wait,” you reply before the back of your neck tingles, and you sling a web up onto the ceiling, yanking you up off the ground.

Just in time, because in the place that you once were stood a beam of metal impaled into the ground.

“Holy shit!” you yelp, and Miguel is swinging right up beside you.

“That’s our cue then. On your toes, spiderling,” he says, and you grin. You don’t exactly remember when he started saying that phrase to you, but it was standard procedure before every fight for him to say it now.

“You got it, old man,” you snicker, and he rolls his eyes before swinging away, allowing you to analyze the villain down below.

His pillars were optimal at a range, so close combat was likely your best bet at beating the guy.

“You gonna hang up there all day, little thing? C’mon, give me a real fight,” the villain calls up to you tauntingly, and you scoff. Of course, he was going to be annoying, just what you needed.

“I’m just trying to find the quickest way to take your annoying ass down and believe me, it will happen,” you retort, swinging down before levelling him with a kick into his gut before he could react. He groans out in pain as you see Miguel send out his webbing from the corner of your eye.

But the villain seemed to notice it as well, using a shard of metal to slice it away before it could reach him.

“You think it’d be that easy, I’ve spent my whole life fighting so-called ‘heroes’ like you,” he scoffs.

“All that says to me is that you’re old,” you snicker, and he scoffs before sending a beam of metal toward you again. You leap out of the way just in time, but the villain picks up the pace.

Ear-scrapingly loud screeches of metal can be heard from all around as he pulls support beam after support beam out of the building to throw at you and Miguel.

“Where’s all that confidence from earlier, little hero?” he calls out toward you. “I thought you were going to take me down, yet here I stand. Maybe you’re weaker than you thought,” he laughs, and you narrow your eyes in annoyance.

You know you shouldn’t lead with your emotions, it was a recipe for disaster in a job like this but you couldn’t help it.

“Enough of this-” you seethe before you’re interrupted.

“THE BUILDING IS FALLING APART,” you hear Miguel shout, and it was true. With each support beam that the villain ripped from the frame, the more unstable the place became. You had to get this guy packed up and pronto, before you all were crushed.

“I’m tired of your games, anomaly,” you huff, levelling him with a glare.

“Why so serious? Your parents never hug you enough as a kid?” the villain says mockingly. You knew it was only to get a rise out of you, every comment of his was, but with your emotions already on high, you immediately saw red.

Everything you had bottled up and shoved down bubbled over like lava, and you lunged for the villain with a snarl.

You threw punch after punch as he cried out in pain, unable to do anything with your webs trapping him in place.

That’s when you feel webs that weren’t your own wrapping around your shoulders, yanking you off of the villain. You yank at the bonds, desperately trying to escape the fluorescent red webbing.

“Let me go, let me go! Let me finish him, Miguel,” you cry out, but he ignores you for a moment.

He shoves the villain through the newly opened portal without a second thought, knowing Jess would handle it on the other side before turning back to you.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” he says as he grabs your shoulders, holding you in place as he retracts the webbing. You wriggle around in his grasp, chest heaving with each breath as tears brim over in your eyes. He looks at you with concern, just scanning over you to make sure you were alright before truly looking at you. It made you feel small as you struggled to hold back your sobs.

His eyes only softened, clicking your mask off before brushing his hand gently over your hair, and it only made you want to cry even more.

“C’mere kid,” he says, pulling you into a hug. You exhale shakily before hugging him back tightly, the tears you had been holding back all day finally falling down.

He was so warm…his arms embracing you gently in the way your real father never could.

You stood there in his arms for a few minutes, sobbing into his chest while he just held you gently. After a little while your sobs subsided, replaced with the occasional sniffle before you pull away, looking off to the side sheepishly.

“Do you want to tell me what’s really bothering you now, mi tesoro,” he asks gently, not wanting to push you to say something you didn’t want to.

You only sigh softly, glancing back only to see the worry in his eyes before relenting.

“I don’t have a good relationship with my father…you know this,” you smile sadly, and he only nods, waiting for you to continue.

“We got into a really bad argument before I came here, and well, I don’t really have a father anymore. He kicked me out,” you sniffle. “And I know it shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, because he never cared for me like a parent should but it still hurts Miguel,” you say, your eyes tearing up again. He smiles sadly at you, brushing away a tear gently.

“I’m sorry, mi ángel,” he says, not really knowing what else to say. “But don't blame yourself for feeling what you feel. You can't help it, and besides, losing all that you knew, even if it hurt you is still difficult," he says, and you nod knowing that what he said was true. It wasn't easy to accept though, so you don't say anything in response.

"...You do know you always have a home here, don’t you?” he says, and you laugh softly to yourself, not really knowing why.

“I do?” you ask, and he chuckles fondly.

“Always,” he says before his eyes grow distant for a moment. “…I lost Gabriella a long time ago, I never really recovered from that loss…I don’t think I ever will. But I do believe that the universe sent me you in turn. You won’t ever be her, I know that. But you don’t have to be, because I care for you like a child of my own regardless. You know that, don’t you?” he says, the genuineness of his words evident.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging him tightly once more. “I have never felt more safe in my life than when I’m with you," you admit.

He only smiles, and for a moment you think you can see the glimmer of tears in his red eyes but figured it must have been a trick of the light.

“Let’s head back to HQ, kiddo. We can figure out some place for you to stay, alright?” he says, and you nod before pausing for a moment.

“Could I…stay with you?” you ask hesitantly, and his eyes widen for a moment.

“If that’s what you’d like, it can be arranged,” he says before laughing softly. “My house has always been too big for just one person anyway.” Immediately your expression brightens as you skip toward the open portal, a large grin on your face.

“I would like that very much.”

✧✧✧✧✧

A/N: Good gods it has literally been almost 2 weeks since I last posted. I'm so sorry, life has been kicking my ass but I'm back!! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading <33

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes, @ishii03, @snowywhiterose, @leftcupcakedefendor

#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara x platonic!reader

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leclerc-s · 3 months

Text

track 001. shameless

─── ❝ distance, inches in between, i want you to give in. ❞ ───

masterlist // next

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly and others

nataliaruiz my “best” friend gets to drive for ferrari next year! i think this calls for a celebration! (please get me sebastian vettel’s number or daniel ricciardo's, i'm not picky)

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc we are best friends stop lying to people

nataliaruiz are we though? charles_leclerc and i’m not getting you sebastian’s number much less daniel's nataliaruiz oh come on! please! for me! charles_leclerc no way

user18 oh how i’ll adore having natalia around at the paddock with seb.

user25 why is she only making her presence known now that charles is driving for ferrari? was alfa romero not enough?

user18 she has a job asshole and they’ve been friends since they were kids. nataliaruiz if you’ll scroll further down my page you’ll find that i congratulated charles on his achievement in getting into formula 1. not that i need to give an explanation to a stranger.

pierregasly have you two started dating yet? asking for a friend (i’m the friend)

nataliaruiz fuck off you french fuck user84 so it's not just us who sees it user67 meaning we’re not crazy like we thought we were

danielricciardo hate to break it to you kid, but i have a girlfriend

nataliaruiz aw man. also, please never call me kid again, i'm not that young. i could totally date leo dicaprio pierregasly that's because you're under 25... nataliaruiz i wouldn't complain.

maxverstappen33 you're telling me i have to deal with dumb and dumber?

nataliaruiz you fucking love me verstappen admit it. maxverstappen33 i tolerate you at best on a good day.

it started with alcohol, although stories like this always do. in hindsight you can't really blame charles for the choices he made when natalia looked the way she did. she was beautiful, he had known that his entire life. boys always told him he was lucky to have a best friend who looked like her. though it didn't always feel like luck when a boy broke her heart and he was left to console her. sometimes he wished she was less beautiful so her heart would get broken less.

after the announcement of charles’ move to ferrari for the 2019 season, natalia had decided a party night was in order, and charles was never one to say no to her. not even when they were little kids getting in trouble for whatever stupid stunt they decided to pull. it wasn't just that he had a crush on her until he was 14, but more so he didn't know how to say no to a pretty girl, especially one who was his best friend. even when she had moved to a different country to pursue her dreams of acting and modeling, they always found a way to speak. it also helped that she dropped everything the moment he needed her and vice versa.

had it cost them both relationships, yes, but neither of them truly cared. it was a weird dynamic to everyone, they acted like couple but they were friends, or so they insisted. and so they found themselves in the position they were in, naked in a bed, with a massive hangover. waking up together in a bed wasn't strange, they had done that before, but waking up naked was something new to them. natalia was the first to wake up, shooting up when she'd realized what had happened. she grabbed the pillow she had been using and smacked charles across the face, effectively waking up the sleeping boy.

charles shot up, "je suis réveillé. qu'est-ce qui ne va pas? qui est mort?" (i'm awake. what's wrong? who is dead?)

"english, charles, english. it’s too early for french," natalia sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"what's wrong?" natalia gestured to him, then her, and then their clothes on the room floor, "non."

"oui," she sarcastically said, "what do we do?"

"ignore it?" he questioned, "do you remember anything?"

"no," she muttered, "do you?"

charles shook his head, "i don't remember anything after pierre stood on a table."

"good, we forget this ever happened, things go back to normal."

charles nodded, "okay, do i close my eyes?"

"for?"

"are you not going to put your clothes back on?"

"oh!" natalia realized, "yes, i am."

pierre gasly added two people

pierre gasly they didn't leave to go fuck max!

max verstappen i'm just saying it could be a possibility. we've all been waiting years for them to start dating.

esteban ocon doesn't she have a boyfriend?

pierre gasly non, ils ont rompu, je pense (no, they broke up, i think)

mae jones translation? pierre gasly google translate it bitch mae jones you know what you french fuck baguette, joan of arc is still more famous than you AND SHE'S BEEN DEAD FOR CENTURIES!!

max verstappen PIERRE FUCKING GASLY IF YOU FUCKING ADDED LECLERC I'M CRASHING INTO YOU NEXT WEEK

natalia ruiz is pierre talking shit again?

max verstappen EVEN WORSE YOU ADDED NATALIA?

natalia ruiz no, it's just not fair right? max verstappen i hate you. natalia ruiz and yet i was still your first kiss charles leclerc WHAT?! mae jones excuse me?

daphne jones can you guys shut up? for once? i can't have a moment of peace in the studio because my phone keeps blowing up.

natalia ruiz I'M GONNA GO SCREAM IN A PILLOW

charles leclerc please don't.

esteban ocon are you two together?

natalia ruiz i slept over. we didn't fuck. pierre gasly yet.

pierre gasly also, i feel like we should circle back to the natalia was max's first kiss thing. how did that happen? when did that happen? where did it happen?

max verstappen as mae says, i plead the fifth

natalia ruiz we were 12, and it was a dare. momma didn't raise a bitch

natalia ruiz well, she didn't raise me but you guys get what i mean

daniel ricciardo ah, trauma dumping, a skill this friend group is excellent at, welcome to the club.

max verstappen NO! DON'T DO THAT SHIT! THEY ARE NOT WELCOME!

sebastian vettel max, behave.

carlos sainz this is why we call you dad seb. you act like one.

natalia ruiz oh my god. oh my god. oh my god.

charles leclerc i am now deaf in one ear. she has really strong lungs.

esteban ocon i figure we should let her knew lewis and fernando are also in this group chat. to get all of the screaming out at once.

charles leclerc well fuck you for that esteban. my ears are ringing.

charles was fucked and apparently a good liar. he remembered everything from last night, from the first drink he had to the first kiss he shared with natalia. he was far from sober last night, but for some fucked up reason he remembered everything. charles didn't have the same luck as natalia, he just couldn't forget. and oh, how badly he wanted to forget, lorenzo had been right, falling for your best friend was never going to work out. it was times like these where he desperately wished his papa and jules were still around, they always knew what to say.

everyone around him always told him he was a shit liar, but hah! he had just proved them all wrong (take that pierre and george!) charles had effectively lied to his best friend right in her face and she hadn’t suspected a thing. apparently he had been thinking too hard because natalia sat next to him and he hadn’t noticed. charles wasn't even sure how they were functioning in the same space after what had occured between them this morning, rather late last night.

she sighed, trying to get his attention, charles turned to glance at her, saying nothing. natalia rolled her eyes and huffed, this time charles felt inclined to speak.

“what?” charles asked. she shrugged, “i don’t know, i feel weird.”

“do not tell me-” natalia’s eyes widened realizing what he was implying, “no charles! that’s not how it works. it’s been barely 24 hours or less!”

“i’m a man!” he shouted back, “i don’t know how that works!”

“oh my god,” natalia laughed. she sat back before turning her body to face charles, “kiss me.”

“quoi?” the monegasque questioned. she shrugged again, “i don’t know. maybe it’s because i know what we did and now i can’t seem to stop thinking about why on earth i would sleep with my best friend.”

“so… you want me to kiss you?”

“yes, maybe then i’ll remember why.”

“i’m not going to kiss you,” charles argued.

“what? why not?” natalia asked, “i’m a great kisser! i won’t bite, i swear!”

“you bit louis when we were 16,” charles reminded.

“because he was a horrible kisser and he liked garlic a bit too much.”

charles grimaced and opened his mouth to reply before natalia rolled her eyes him, grabbing him by the shirt of his collar and pulling in for a kiss. he reciprocated quickly, and after about a minute, natalia pulled away. charles stared at her, wondering what her next move would be.

she cocked her head to the side, “no, i still don’t get it.”

“get what?”

“why?”

charles quickly realized what she meant and replied, “we were drunk?”

“i would’ve done it sober,” natalia dismissed.

charles was shocked, that was a new revelation to him, “you would?”

“of course,” she quickly replied, “i would kiss you sober because what if a crazy fan was trying to kiss you? or what if a crazy ex wanted to kiss me?”

“right,” charles dejectedly replied. he stood up, “i’m going to take a nap.”

natalia stood up after him, grabbing his hand as he walked away, “was it the kiss? je suis désolée (i’m sorry) i wasn’t thinking and-”

charles interrupted her, pulling her closer and kissing her, natalia reciprocated. charles pulled away, placing his hand on her hips, there was tension between them, “tell me to stop and i will. i would never-”

it was her turn to cut him off, “don’t, don’t stop.”

green eyes met brown, not an ounce of regret seemed to be held in either of them. natalia waited for him to kiss her again. would this potentially ruin their friendship? absolutely, but neither of them cared, not right now. not when they only needed one thing, and one thing only, each other.

“why?” charles whispered, not daring to break their bubble.

“why not?” she argued.

“but it could-”

“i don’t care,” natalia says, “i trust you and you’re my best friends. i’d rather it be you then someone else i met at a bar. someone i don’t care about.”

“it’s going to change everything,” charles argued back.

“you’re schedule is about to be even worse because you’re driving for ferrari next season, you won’t have time for a relationship. i don’t want a shitty one night stand with a stranger or a relationship right now. it’s a win win for us.”

charles opened his mouth to argue again, but natalia has had enough, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. she pulled away first, breathing heavily, “do you want me to stop?”

“merde,” charles whispered, “non,” he decided after he paused to think about it, “s'il te plaît, ne t'arrête pas.” (shit, no. please, don’t stop.)

“okay,” she whispered, pulling him in for another kiss, both of them proceeding to lose each other in between charles’ sheets, not an ounce of regret. years later, they’ll both realize they were fucking idiots in love who disguised it as a friends with benefits relationship.

they both lay breathless in his bed between the sheets, she lays her head on his chest, and he pulls her close. they should’ve known then, it was never just sex for either of them. it was never was just going to be just sex.

“just sex?” she asks him.

charles, despite a broken heart quickly realized it was better to have a small part of natalia, than no part of her, “just sex,” he whispered, “this doesn’t change anything does it?”

natalia looks up at him, doe eyes looking at him, “no,” she replied, holding up her left pinky, like when they were children, “best friends?”

“pour toujours,” charles answers, interlacing their pinkies. (forever)

the were truly fucked from the start. if only they had realized it from the moment their lips first touched, maybe things would've gone differently for them. but would it truly? they had always loved each other, one way or another, they would end up in a similar situation.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! y'all I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SMUT! hence why i skipped that whole thing entirely. but yay, first part of this series is finally out! this story does begin in 2018, right after charles was announced to be driving for ferrari in the 2019 season and then jumps to 2019.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #the honest series #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female oc #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic

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gingiesworld · 5 months

Text

Goodbye My Love

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x GN! Stark Reader/ Wanda Maximoff x Jarvis Stark

Warnings: Angst. Violence. Domestic abuse.

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @natleft (if you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

Word Count: 4.2k

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N Stark had always lived in the shadow of their older brother, every accomplishment Y/N had received, he had to outshine them. Although the two of them were polar opposites, Jarvis followed in their father’s footsteps and joined the family company while Y/N found themselves going to UCLA on a football scholarship.Although they only missed one person, besides their mom and Morgan.

Wanda Maximoff was their best friend growing up, all the way through high school, she had a short relationship with James before they all graduated while Y/N met Christine when they were in college. Although they never truly loved Christine how she deserved because their heart belonged to someone else. So their romance was short lived and Y/N went through college having one night stands, no strings attached.

But the moment they came home, Wanda greeted them at the airport, hugging them tightly as she told them about all of the things they had missed.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” They questioned when they noticed the ring on her finger.

“Uh, Jarvis.” She spoke unsurely.

“How did that happen?” They asked her, trying to hide their hurt which Wanda failed to see.

“It was a couple of years ago, we bumped into each other and we got to talking and everything else is history.” She told them. “We also live in an apartment in the city.”

“Oh.” Was all they could say which caught Wanda’s attention.

“Hey, be happy for me.” She told them. “I love him and he has changed.” They just nodded with a tight lipped smile. “He really has.” Once she noticed they weren’t going to say anything, she changed the subject. “When will you know who you play for?” She asked them as they smiled.

“We will find out a couple of months before the season starts.” They told her, a smile on their face which she returned as she held their hand in hers, how they have done it since they were children.

“Are you excited to see everyone again?” She asked as she drove to the Stark’s Mansion.

“I am excited to see my mom and Morgan.” They told her honestly.

“What about your dad? I’m sure he has missed you.” She told them as they shrugged.

“I don’t think so.” They told her. “He never called or even said hello whenever I spoke on the phone with Mom and Morgan.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispered as they shrugged.

“It’s ok.” They told her, a nervous feeling taking over them as they approached home.

“Y/N/N!!” Morgan screamed as soon as they stepped out of Wanda’s car, running straight into them at full speed. “I missed you.” She mumbled as she hugged them tightly.

“I missed you more.” They held her for a moment longer before smiling up at their mom. “Hi mom.” They greeted her as they gave her a sweet hug.

“Come on, let’s head inside.” She told them softly, Morgan taking Wanda’s hand as she dragged her through the house. “Your father and Jarvis are at work if you want to go see them.” She told them as they shrugged.

“I would rather spend the day here with you girls.” They told her honestly, following her into the kitchen.

“He has missed you.” Pepper told them as they just scoffed. “He really has. Your father is a tough man.”

“I know he doesn’t care about me mom, you don’t have to sugar coat it.” They told her.

“Y/N, he loves you.” She told them firmly as they shook their head, a dry chuckle leaving their lips.

“He tolerates me, there’s a difference.” They told her. “He never wanted me to follow my dreams, he never thought I would make it.”

“He just wants what’s best for you.” She told them as they gave her a tight smile.

“I’m going to go and spend some time with Morgan and Wanda.” They told her, giving up on the conversation in regards to their relationship with their father.

“Hi, can I join you?” Y/N asked the two as Morgan nodded.

“But you have to wear a crown because we are princesses.” She told them as she handed them a small plastic crown.

“Don’t you have one with pink diamonds?” They asked her. “Pink brings out my eyes, don’t you think Princess Wanda.”

“Yes.” Wanda chuckled as Morgan swapped crowns with them. Y/N felt at home, spending time with the most important people in their life.

“Everyone has missed you.” Wanda told them as she led them through the bar, holding hands as she soon led them to all of their friends.

“Here they are!!!” Bucky’s voice boomed as he caught sight of the two. Soon wrapping his arms around Y/N and hugging them.

“We’ve missed you.” Nat told them as she pulled them in for a hug.

“I’ve missed you guys.” They beamed as Wanda went to get the two of them something to drink.

“How was life on the west coast?” Steve asked them as they thanked Wanda for the drink.

“It was awesome.” They told them everything from the moment they started their first year of college.

“You see if you’re drafted in a couple of weeks right?” Bucky asked them as they nodded.

“I do.” They rubbed their hands on their bottoms. “I just hope I do get drafted.”

“You were the best Wide Receiver our high school had ever had, you brought us to the state championships each season.” Steve told them. “We know very well that you will be picked.”

“You have always been fast.” Wanda remarked as everyone agreed.

“Thank you.” They smiled before they decided to head over to the bar.

“I'll take it, you know.” Nat told them as she stood beside them.

“I do.” They nodded as they thanked the bartender for their drink. Watching as Nat ordered a couple of shots.

“Why didn’t you ever tell her?” She asked them as they shrugged. “Y/N, you two would have been the perfect couple.”

“But we aren’t.” They told her. “I never told her because I never wanted to lose her. There was always a chance that my feelings weren't reciprocated and I valued our friendship more than anything else in this world.” They took one of the shots and threw it back. “But I only want her to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted and if that’s with Jarvis, then so be it.”

“I have to go.” Wanda told them as soon as the two came back. “Jarvis just messaged and asked where I was.”

“Did you tell him you’re out with friends?” Nat asked her as Wanda nodded.

“He said that he needed me home.” Wanda told them before kissing Y/N’s cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Sure.” They nodded with a small smile, they watched as Wanda disappeared through the crowd towards the exit.

“I really don’t like him.” Bucky mumbled as Y/N nodded with a chuckle.

“I know what you mean.” They agreed, thinking back to their childhood and how he would try his hardest to outshine them at everything, especially when it came to showing interest in the family company.

“Where were you?” Jarvis questioned as soon as Wanda entered their apartment.

“With Y/N, Nat, Steve and Bucky.” Wanda told him. “Everyone wanted to celebrate Y/N coming home, so we went to Jamie’s.”

“Wanda, you know what I think of that place.” He rubbed his temples as her heart beat out of her chest, her nerves slowly taking over her shakey form. “Besides, it’s only Y/N. It isn’t like they matter much.”

“They are my best friend.” She told him firmly.

“Stop living in your childhood.” He told her sternly as he gripped her arms. “You are 22 years old! You aren’t the same teen you were four years ago!” All Wanda could do was nod, sighing as he let go of her arms. “Start dinner. I am famished.” He told her before retreating to their shared room. Releasing a shaky breath before she headed towards the kitchen, she knew that Y/N disliked him for a reason, especially with how he has been with her the past few months. Although, that is something she will never tell anyone, too afraid of what could happen.

Y/N had noticed the past week that Wanda had been distant from them and their friends. So as they were making breakfast, they knew they would visit her.

“Thanks.” Tony mumbled as he grabbed a cup of coffee, barely sparing Y/N a second glance.

“I’m going to see Wanda this morning.” They stated as they finished their coffee.

“What?” Tony questioned.

“She is my best friend.” They reminded him.

“She is Jarvis’s fiancèe.” He pointed out as Y/N nodded.

“I know that, she told me.” They told him firmly.

“I don’t want you to ruin this for your brother.” He told them as he stood up, trying to tower over them. “She is a good woman and I am sure the two would be amazing parents.”

“I’m pretty sure that Wanda isn’t thinking of children just yet.” They reminded him as they grabbed their keys. “They are still young and they aren’t even married yet.” With that Y/N left the house, leaving an irritated Pepper to scold him.

“Please just stop.” Wanda whimpered as Jarvis continued to slap her across the face.

“Seriously Wanda!! Y/N won’t ever give you the life that I will.” He yelled before she kicked him off of her.

“Please just go.” She sobbed as she scrambled to her feet. Trying to grab anything that would help her overpower him.

“Do you seriously think I wouldn’t know what you are hiding from me, from everyone, from yourself?!” He yelled as he started to advance on her again. “I know about your feelings!! I know it very well!!” He raised his hand ready to strike, only to freeze at the sound of a gunshot. The sound made Y/N run towards their apartment, breaking in to find Wanda frozen in place as Jarvis was squirming in pain. They approached her and took the gun from her grasp.

“Run.” They told her firmly. “Leave right now!” They yelled as she soon snapped into reality.

“Oh my god.” She whispered as she looked at Jarvis.

“Leave! NOW WANDA!!!” Y/N yelled at her, just as the sirens were getting closer. Wanda left the apartment, running straight for her friends apartment, knocking on it rapidly.

“Wanda?” Yelena questioned tiredly as she opened the door.

“Is Nat here?” She asked as Yelena let her inside.

“Yeah, she’s just in the shower.” She answered, grabbing Wanda a blanket to cover herself up and a bottle of water.

“Wanda, what happened?” Nat asked as soon as she spotted the brunette sitting on the sofa.

“I shot him.” She whispered as Nat sighed. “I shot Jarvis and Y/N told me to run.”

“What?” Yelena questioned as Nat shook her head with a dry chuckle.

“How could they be so stupid!” She yelled, causing Wanda to flinch. “This will ruin their future, their chance at playing pro.”

“I don’t understand.” Wanda muttered as Nat grabbed her bag and keys.

“Wanda, stay here with Yelena. Do not leave this apartment until I say otherwise.” With that Nat left the two of them.

“Do you think Y/N took the fall?” Wanda questioned as Yelena only nodded.

“They would do anything for you Wanda.” Was all she told the brunette before putting the chain on the door.

“HOW COULD YOU?!” Tony yelled as he sat opposite Y/N who was sitting in handcuffs. “Your own brother!”

“He hasn’t been a brother to me at all!!” Y/N told him, just as angry. “Just as you haven’t been a father to me either!!”

“You’re lucky that I am going to let you rot in here for as long as I can.” He growled as he got in their face. “He is my son!!”

“Yeah, he seems to be your only child, the only one you care about anyway.” They remarked as he was about to hit them.

“Mr Stark, I suggest you leave now or I will be putting you in some fancy bracelets too.” Nat told him firmly as she entered the room, escorting him out before she shut the door behind her. “I need you to tell me why you did it.” She said as she grabbed her pen.

“I already told Captain what's her name, everything” They told her.

“Oh, you broke in to find him hitting his fiancee so you shot him? Not like you could just take him down with sheer force anyway.” She spoke sarcastically. “I want the real story.”

“That is the real story.” They told her.

“Y/N, I am trying to protect you and your future, if you aren’t honest with me, I can’t protect you.” She tried as they just shook their head.

“That is the truth, Detective.” They told her.

“Ok.” She nodded as she rose to her feet. “Captain Carter will come and read you your rights.” With that she left the room, finding out more on Jarvis’s condition before heading home.

“Are they ok?” Wanda asked as soon as Nat walked through the door.

“They are fine.” She told her honestly. “They are keeping to their story, so there isn’t much more that I can do to help.”

“So?” Yelena questioned as Nat took a seat.

“Well, Jarvis is currently in a coma. The bullet had pierced a lung, so he has had to have extensive surgery to repair the damage, but the chances of him waking before the sentencing is rather slim.” She rubbed her brow. “Especially since Mr Stark would want it over as fast as possible.”

“What if I confess? Tell the truth?” Wanda tried as Nat shook her head.

“That won’t work. Not now anyway.” She told her. “The media has already started to leach on the story of sibling rivalry. The press will be sniffing around the hospital, trying to get an update from the doctors or the family. Y/N is already moving to NJ Pen tomorrow morning.”

“So there’s nothing.” Yelena stated as Nat sighed.

“Nothing.” She told them. “They already have a weapon and a confession. Unless Jarvis says otherwise, then everyone will know Y/N to be the one who tried to kill their own brother.”

Wanda was beside herself, with Jarvis remaining in a coma and Y/N being in prison for a crime they didn’t commit. She hated herself, wondering every night how her life had turned into this.

“Are you ok?” Nat asked her as she entered the kitchen.

“Yeah.” Wanda nodded as she stared at the glass of water in her hand.

“Talk to me.” Nat spoke tenderly as Wanda scoffed.

“About what? How my fiancè abused me. He would hit me and call me names or that I shot him in fear of losing my own life and my best friend is taking the fall.” She spoke angrily. “I just wish I knew why they took the blame for something I did.”

“They love you.” Nat told her sincerely. “They have since high school. I can’t exactly tell you the moment they fell in love with you but we could see it whenever they looked at you. They would do anything for you Wanda and it shows.”

“But.” Wanda tried as her eyes filled with tears. “I never knew.” She whispered shakily as Nat gave her a tender smile.

“They never wanted you to know, because they thought you would feel the same.” She told her honestly.

“The draft was last night.” Wanda mentioned. “They never got picked.”

“Well, the managers would have gotten wind of the shooting and the trial.” Nat spoke honestly. “So that would have definitely made sure they never made it.”

“I hate this.” Wanda whispered as she rubbed her brow. “I hate how this whole thing has turned out.”

“You have a visitor.” The guard told Y/N as they kicked them awake.

“What?” They grumbled as they stirred.

“Visitor!” The guard yelled as they grabbed them, dragging them through the corridor towards the visiting quarters.

“Mom?” Y/N murmured as they saw Pepper sitting at the otherside of the glass, watching as Y/N picked up the phone.

“Why did you do it?” She questioned as Y/N sighed.

“I already told the police everything, I’m sure that Tony had already gotten a copy of my statement.” Y/N told her coldly.

“You know what I mean.” She told them firmly. “I know you didn’t do it, I just want to know why you are lying to everyone and putting your future at risk.”

“I can’t discuss this with you mom.” They told her sternly.

“Just tell me!” She yelled, gaining the attention of the others. “Jarvis could wake and tell the truth.”

“I doubt he would if he finds out that I will be serving time here.” They told her. “He hated me, he hated me because my dreams strayed away from what the Stark name was famous for.”

“You know that’s not true.” Pepper told them.

“You know what you just said is a lie.” Y/N told her. “Neither Dad or Jarvis attended any of my games to support me. They were too busy with something to do with the company. The only people who thought and believed I would make it pro weren’t even blood related.”

“Y/N.” Pepper tried as Y/N shook their head.

“Just leave it mom. Don’t come back here to visit, it will only hurt you more.” They told her firmly. “Besides, Morgan will need you now, more than ever.” She watched as Y/N was dragged back through the doors towards their cell, her heart breaking at the sight of the aggressiveness the guards were showing towards them.

Jarvis remained in the coma, even after Y/N was sentenced for 20 years imprisonment. Wanda had already returned the ring to Pepper, telling her that she was ending things with Jarvis, of course Pepper had no objections, knowing the kind of man her son grew up to be.

“Wanda, you need to eat.” Nat told her as she handed her a PB&J.

“I’m not hungry.” Wanda whispered as she placed the plate on the table.

“Look, I know this is hard right now.” Nat tried as Wanda chuckled lightly.

“You have no idea!” Wanda spat. “Y/N is serving almost a life sentence because of a crime they didn’t commit!! They are doing that for me!!.”

“Because they love you!” Nat shouted. “Look, I understand that this is so freaking hard right now, but they need us all more than ever right now. So if you want more answers, go and visit them!”

With that, Wanda knew exactly what she needed to do. Deciding to make an appointment to visit them, needing to hear the truth from them herself.

When the day came around, she gasped as she saw the cuts and bruises on their face. Picking up the phone as she reached for their face, only to be disappointed by the cold glass.

“What happened to you?” She questioned firstly making Y/N chuckle.

“It looks worse than it is.” They told her, a gentle smile on their face. “How are you? Nat told me about ending the engagement.”

“I am ok.” Wanda told them. “I am just worried about you and rightfully so.”

“I’m fine, I promise.” They told her as she shook her head. “I know being here is a little rough, but it is better me being here than you.”

“Y/N, why did you do it? Take the fall for me?” She asked them.

“If you had to ask me that, then you don’t really know me at all.” They told her.

“I do know, believe me, I do, but I want to hear it from you.” She told them. “I deserve that at least.”

“Wanda.” They tried before she cut them off.

“Just tell me! Please!” She pleaded with them, earning a sigh in response.

“I did it for love.” They told her. “Because I love you and I have always loved you forever.” She watched as they looked down. “I know you won’t ever feel the same and I made peace with that years ago. So please just leave here and don’t come back. Move on with your life ok.”

“No.” She shook her head as Y/N nodded.

“You deserve to live your life Wanda.” They told her. “Please just live it and forget about me.”

“No.” She tried once more, the tears falling as she shook her head.

“Yes Wanda.” They told her. “Goodbye my love.” She watched as they walked away, not even sparing her a second glance as they left.

“What?” Nat questioned as she picked up a devastated Wanda, listening to her as she tried to explain everything. The next thing Nat decided to do was get onto their lawyer. Wanda listened as best as she could before Nat finished the call. “They’ve requested for their own visitation rights to be terminated.” She informed Wanda.

“What?!” She yelled as Nat nodded, rubbing her forehead. “They can’t do that.”

“They can Wanda.” Nat told her. “And they have done that, we just have to respect their wishes.”

“But I love them Nat.” Wanda told her. “I do and I can’t go 20 years without seeing them or hearing their voice.”

“We will have to Wanda.” Nat told her. “It’s just 20 years right.” She tried as Wanda sighed. “Look, we can’t do anything Wanda, maybe write to them. Maybe they will read your letters but just respect their decision, that is all I am asking of you.”

The first year was extremely hard on her, she struggled to write to them, struggling to find the words to say until she just started to pour out the words that came from her heart.

Dear Y/N,

I know it’s already been a year without seeing you, and believe me, it has been the hardest year of my life and I know I have 19 more to go. I know that sounds incredibly selfish but I get to be selfish right now because the one person who I have always had in my corner regardless doesn’t want to see me, and that hurts me so fucking much.

I just need you to know that I miss you every damn day.

Love Wanda

Dear Y/N

I still haven’t received any confirmation that you have received my other letters, because I haven’t really received anything from you. I got myself a new apartment, in that building we both always admired when we were younger. I know it’s a bit pricey but I have plenty in my savings, and life is short so I may have splurged. I was also promoted at work, you are now looking at the new Head of Trauma at NY Pres. You always said I would make it and I did.

I just hope you’re ok and I want to know that you are safe at least.

Love Wanda

Dear Y/N

It’s been five years now. I have sent letters every week for five years. I have even tried to move on and I can’t. Well, I never really told you the truth, I love you. I am in love with you. I should have told you before but I was scared of losing you. I know that seems funny now because I have lost you. Well, it feels like I’ve lost you because you won’t talk to me.

I have lost the biggest supporter and the love of my life and that hurts. I lost you because of a mistake that I had made and you won’t talk to me, but I guess you have your own reasons for the distance between us.

Love Wanda

Y/N placed the recent letter in the pillowcase with all of the others she had sent, sitting on their bed as they waited for the food call.

“Who is this Wanda chick?” Brock questioned as he jumped down beside his cellmate.

“She was a friend.” They answered shortly.

“You have been here for five years and you still haven’t told us much about you, other than you’re a Stark.” He smirked as they shrugged.

“There’s not much to tell.” They murmured as Brock chuckled manically.

“That doesn’t sit well with me.” He sneered as Y/N shrugged. “You have another fifteen years left here, you have no visitors which tells me that no one really cares whether you live or die.” As soon as the cell opened he pushed past them. “Watch your back, Stark.” Little did he know that that was the last time he would speak to Y/N, the last time he would see them as he lay cold on the floor with a shiv in his neck as a riot took over the cell block.

AN:: There will be a part 2 guys. Thank you all for the likes and the reblogs, it means a lot to me.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

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j0hnj4ej3n · 8 months

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drinking with nct dream

word count: 1.6k

warnings: mentions alcohol consumption, puking, slightly suggestive!! let me know if i’m missing anything~

notes: this was just something i’ve been wanting to write for fun because i was drinking with friends at a bar recently and it was honestly one of the best nights i’ve had in a while so i just wanted to be delusional with those memories and with it for 7dream hehe <3 hope y’all enjoyed reading and do send in requests if you have any and i’ll consider writing them~

𔘓Mark:

The both of you appreciate a drink or two every once in a while. Just to wind down and have meaningful conversations over some drinks. With alcohol in each of your systems, the mood switches from giggling over random things and silly memories, to having deep and vulnerable conversations. And then back to laughing your asses off over nothing at all. Mark gets a lot more affectionate when he gets tipsy and most times you end up on his lap by the end of the night. “Dude, you’re actually reallyyy pretty y’know?” “Shut up.” You would reply, getting shy and Mark’s throwing his head back, laughing at your flustered reaction. You love moments like this because Mark always holds you close and you’ve both completely let your guards down, it’s sweet and intimate and you’re both just happily dwelling in each other’s presence. “I’m sleepy…” Mark mumbles after the two of you empty a few more bottles. “Mmm, we should probably go to bed,” “No, no, here…” Mark mumbles into the back of your neck, pulling you down to lie with him on the couch. You chuckle to yourself because you find sleepy, tipsy Mark so adorable. He leans up slightly, to kiss you softly on the cheek, mumbling a soft ‘i love you’ as he pulls you closer by the waist and falling asleep.

𔘓Renjun:

There’s a lot of things you find impressive about your boyfriend, and one of them is his high ass alcohol tolerance. You wouldn’t say you’re a lightweight, but your tolerance is nothing compared to Renjun’s. So you feel the safest when you’re out drinking with your friends and Renjun tags along. “Okay, i think you’ve had enough tonight my love,” Renjun tells you, pulling the shot glass gently out of your grasp, ignoring your whining. “But i don’t want to waste them~” “Don’t worry about it, i’ll finish… okay? i’ll drink them… you just chill for a bit,” Renjun tells you, brushing your hair away from your face and letting you lean your tired frame against him. If you ever had to puke, Renjun doesn’t shy away from holding your hair back and readily cleans you up after too. He brings you water and lets you fall asleep beside him as the rest of your friends party on into the night. Sometimes he nags at you for drinking more than you can handle but Renjun can’t even deny that you look so cute with your cheeks red and your eyelids heavy from the sleepiness that alcohol brings. Plus, Renjun likes being able to take care of you. And even in your drunken and unconscious state, you make his heart flutter when you reach out to interlock your hand tightly with his, with your head on his shoulder.

𔘓Jeno:

“Woah… you’re gorgeous…” you tell Jeno with both hands on your cheek, looking at him with your doe eyes that are glazed over now because of the amount of drinks you had tonight. Jeno chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck. He doesn’t like drinking, so he’s really just over at your place to make sure you’ll be fine till tomorrow morning. You aren’t a huge fan of alcohol yourself but you’ve been stressed recently so you invited Jeno over to hang out with you while you drank. “You really think so?” Jeno asks with a sheepish smile on his face, if you were drunk off alcohol, he was getting drunk off you and all your shenanigans tonight. You nodded, feeling shy and kind of embarrassed, not knowing you voiced out your inner thoughts. Jeno reaches out to hold your hand, caressing your knuckles, “You’re lucky then… since we’re already together.” You gasp, “You’re my boyfriend?” Jeno nodded as he smiled at the shock on your face. “Oh my… I won,” you muttered out which had Jeno scrunching his face in laughter. He thinks you’re crazy adorable right now, “Truthfully, I think I’m the one who won,” Jeno said as he placed a quick kiss against the back of your hand. “Oh man… I should have recorded all that to show you tomorrow.”

𔘓Haechan:

There’s music playing in the back, a ‘wine night’ playlist you and Haechan curated together for nights just like this. You both share a liking for wine and would drink together when you had time. It’s one of both your favourite ways to spend time together amidst busy schedules. You both found solace in letting the wine relax your mind and bodies. The two of you would have deep talks about your own lives, the future you both dream of together. Sometimes you’ll sit with your legs over Haechan’s lap as he kneads his fingers into your calves. Or Haechan will lay his head on your lap as you run your fingers through his hair. It’s romantic, with the dimmed lights, the scented candles and the soft music playing in the back. Tonight, you’re both on your feet, swaying to the music in each other’s arms, empty wine glasses on the coffee table. Haechan holds your back securely with one arm and your thigh with the other as he dips you, causing you to laugh at this sudden move. He presses light kisses against your exposed neck before he pulls you back upright. “After all this time, I’m still crazy about you…” he whispers against your lips and you kiss him eagerly to show him that you feel the same way too.

𔘓Jaemin:

Jaemin doesn’t like alcohol, almost despises it. But who is he to stop you from having fun? If you’re happy, then he’s happy, genuinely. Even though he’s completely sober, he lets you drag him to the dance floor, a giddy smile plastered on his face. You’re kind of tipsy as you sway to the music, singing passionately along to the music from the live band. Jaemin’s so amused by you and the joy you’re radiating is so infectious that he’s singing along too. His hands never leave your body though, either holding into your hands as he twirls you around or on your waist to hold you steady. When the two of you get home, you’re more out of it than when you started dancing. And you’re literally all over him, Jaemin knows it’s not like you can help it since you become a lot more touchy when you’re tipsy. You’re planting kisses along his jaw and down his neck and you can feel the vibration on your lips when he lets out a low chuckle. “Honey… we shouldn’t,” Jaemin tells you as he gently pries you off him. You groan at the distance he places between you two, slightly disappointed that he’s rejecting your advances. “You’re drunk…” Jaemin states as he cups your face in his hands, “I’ll help you get ready for bed, okay?” You sigh but end up nodding, feeling tiredness wash over you. You’re dozing off as Jaemin helps you remove your make-up and change into more comfortable clothes. You don’t quite remember how you fell asleep but Jaemin’s already preparing you breakfast when you wake up the next morning.

𔘓Chenle:

“No!” You exclaim as you lost yet again, meaning you have to take another shot. You’re already feeling so warm on the inside and you’re sure your face is red by now. “You have to drink! Come on~” Your friend urges from the seat in front of you. You sigh as you reach out for the shot glass, but before you even bring it to your lips, Chenle pulls it out from your hand and downs it from beside you. “She can’t take anymore, I’ll drink for her,” Chenle says as he places the shot glass down, inciting a series of ‘oooo’s from your group of friends. Chenle has always been like this, which is why you find him so reliable. As annoying as he is, he’s quick to catch on when you’re uncomfortable or when you’re reaching your limit and never hesitates to step in for you. His tolerance is literally so high, you’d be out cold and Chenle isn’t even a bit tipsy. At times like this, you think Chenle’s kinda cool, romantic even. When you doze off, Chenle stays right by you, covering your exposed legs with his sweater as you sleep. He isn’t all that nice though, because you always wake up with unglamorous pictures of you in the groupchat, sent by the same boy who took shots on your behalf all night.

𔘓Jisung:

“E’rything's spinning…” Jisung mumbles into your hair. You knew this was a bad idea, Jisung isn’t great at drinking and the boys insisted on playing some stupid drinking game that got your boyfriend drinking beyond what he could take. “Do you need to puke?” You asked him as you pat his thigh, trying to get his attention and you can feel him shaking his head. “You smell great…” Jisung says under his breath as he snuggles closer to you. “Baby, you bought me this perfume,” you tell him as you try to hold back your laughter. Jisung keeps mumbling silly things as he leans against your shoulder. “You’re so pretty,” “It’s crazy… I feel like I’m in a sauna…” “Can we go get ice-cream?” You sigh as you inform him that it’s 3am and there are unfortunately ice-cream places open nearby. “What?? It’s 3??” Jisung huffs and goes silent. You think he dozed off so you stay still, just scrolling through your phone aimlessly, waiting for him to sober up a bit before bringing him into the room to sleep. That’s when you feel the gentlest kiss on your neck and you wonder if you’re imagining it. And there it was again, Jisung’s soft lips against the base of your neck and it lingers longer than the previous one. “Jisung?” “Mhm?” “What are you doing?” “Kissing you.” “Why?” “You’re just so pretty…”

#nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct dream reactions #nct dream fluff #j0hnj4ej3n

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whyse7vn · 5 months

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KIM TAEHYUNG

RANDOM 01:

!gc taehyung who is actually a sick little loser who does not know how to genuinely talk to women at all !! like no joke had like 1 genuine girlfriend he thought he was in love with when he was 18 but she broke up with him 3 months later

!gc taehyung whose only real girl LARGE SPACE friend is you

!gc taehyung who openly and horribly flirts with you finding comfort knowing you can’t actually leave him because you work together (kinda sick of you ask me)

!gc taehyung who DID fly all the way to paris for jennie only to be told “this isn’t working out” “you’re just not what i thought you’d be”

!gc taehyung who told himself he wasn’t upset about being broken up with

!gc taehyung who never told anyone about his short lived relationship with jennie and profusely denies it any time it’s brought up

!gc taehyung who despite being broken up with for many months now thinks about the phrase “you’re just not what i thought you’d be” everyday

!gc taehyung who realises when it comes to you everything comes naturally whether it’s flirting talking eating or just being him it is always easier with you

!gc taehyung who doesn’t seem to realise his normal “harmless” flirtatious remarks towards you hold some extra weight to them these days

!gc taehyung who after a unbelievable miracle a free weekend one night with you namjoon and like 6 bottles of soju managed to get you into his bed

!gc taehyung who is genuinely so sacred about where you and him stand now you’re dating jaehyun

!gc taehyung the most bullied man in the gc (justice for him)

!gc taehyung who took the furry bit waaayyyyy too far and now genuinely likes being called a good boy

!gc taehyung who is NOT actually going broke but simply looses his card way more than he would like to admit

!gc taehyung who finds it hard making new friends

!gc taehyung who counts his lucky starts every night for that day with you and joon

!gc taehyung who is extremely surprised you tolerate him after all the crazy shit he’s said to you

!gc taehyung who is definitely NOT a bad influence on jungkook

!gc taehyung who can not physically go a day with out talking all of his members at least once

!gc taehyung who once literally SOBBED to you for hours about the bullying yeontan had received in the gc (he was extremely high) (and they weren’t even talking about yeontan he just saw the word rat and fell to his knees)

—

hiiii so this is a new concept i’m trying out idk if i like it yet but basically the whole idea of it is to give a bit more insight into every one in the gc and what’s going on??

i think in the future i want to add more structure into these like each post to have a theme maybe idk but i would like it to be less random

like maybe people can ask questions about a certain member and then i can put the answers here like this???

for example someone could ask oh how come jk lives with y/n? and then i’ll answer like this.

i feel like this allows more of a look at each member individually and explains why they act the way they act or why they might of done some of the things they’ve done

anyways lmk of you fucking with it or not or if you have anyways to help me improve this at all luv you all mwah mwah

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @indigobsessed @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie

#bts crack #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts text #bts x y/n #bts fanfic #bts x you #bts x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung × reader #!gc taehyung #v x you #v x reader #gc offline #kim taehyung

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insult-2-injury · 6 months

Text

To Crush a Foe

Tartaglia x f!reader NSFW 6K

Wrote this months ago for @chickenparm and her hydro husband 💦

AO3 Link (fluff, pining, fingering, p in v, dirty talk, friends to lovers, reader is traveler)

~ ~ ~ ~

Surreal. That was the word you decided on; that strange fusion of emotion that went along with the final crushing of a former foe. Not in the crossing of swords, this time, no, but in the acceptance of a simple invitation.

Gods, if someone had told you one year ago you’d be sitting here eating supper with Childe’s family, you would have had yourself a good laugh right in their face.

“How did you fare on the ship ride over, dear?”

“Hm?”

His mother smiled. The charming ease of it was uncannily reminiscent of your red-haired travel companion beside you, who only smirked at your quiet, nervous reverie. If you sat anywhere else, outside the comforts of Childe’s kitchen maybe, you’d smack him upside the head in an instant for that.

You’d avoid such confrontation here.

“It was great!” You felt your face heat at the over-enthusiastic crack in your voice. Why were you so nervous suddenly? You had nothing to prove here. “Truthfully, I stayed inside the cabin most of the trip. Here I thought Dragonspine was cold.”

“Well I’m certain you’ll adapt just fine,” his mother said. “From what we’ve heard, you’re quite the adventurer. Our Ajax is lucky to have you.”

You blinked. You weren’t stupid. You knew what it looked like: the implication of him bringing you here. You could only hope that Childe had set the record straight: that you were just two people who had put aside a lifetime of differences in order to tolerate the other. Friends, you’d almost call it. Comrades, he would say in that unerringly cheerful voice of his.

You nearly jumped when Childe’s palm reached to wrap the top of your leg beneath the table, squeezing slightly.

“Forgive her for the spaciness, mother, she’s not used to the company of humans.”

You whipped your head over to him with an incredulous frown, dislodging his too familiar touch by crossing your legs. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Relax. I only mean she has an… interesting array of travel companions.” You narrowed your eyes at the impish grin crawling across his lips, both of you knowing full well he’d be calling Paimon a floating flour bag if his mother weren’t sitting right there.

“Oh what, like you’re just some ordinary guy?”

He chuckled. “Far from it!” The table creaked as he leaned forward on his elbows, addressing his siblings.

“I kid, of course. It’s just as I said in my letters home. The traveler here has embarked on adventures all across Teyvat, each more impressive than the last. It’s a wonder she doesn’t have a big head.” He gestured with his fork toward Tonia, Teucer, and Anthon, who sat like grinning ducks in a row. “You know… you’d be wise not to mess with her.”

The back of your neck prickled and you reached up to scratch at the heat. The center of attention was never a spot you particularly enjoyed.

“I’m not so scary.”

“See,” Childe said, leaning forward conspiratorially, “this one’s as tricky as they come. Don’t let her fool you, she’s a force. May have even knocked the wind out of me once or twice.”

You’d done more than that. You shook your head, something tender and nervous fluttering in your chest at the flattery.

“Enough talk about me,” you said, waving him off and addressing the kids. “Tell me about your adventures.”

And as they did, you became lost in thought.

Why had you accepted his invitation again?

Oh yeah, because he’d been relentless about it. Sending you letter after letter to come visit his family, along with pictures. Pictures of the gifts he’d sent over for his younger siblings' birthdays, the extravagant meals he’d eaten on his latest adventures. So many letters and pictures that it became something of suspicion to your other traveling companions.

And you were hopelessly intrigued, warmed by the trust he put in you, each battle making it progressively harder to find a way to dig into that diminishing well of rancor in your chest that had existed so strongly only a year prior.

But you’d pushed that flicker of affection aside and you’d told him to cut it out, that sending you messages across Teyvat was nothing short of reckless, but he’d matched your fervor with a cheeky smile.

“What, a guy can’t send a letter to a friend?” he’d said before unleashing a torrent of hydro upon you.

And he had worn you down– so much so that one day you’d just… accepted. Plain and simple; sent a single word answer back: Fine.

Gods, you wanted to fight him. You wanted that hand on your thigh again.

“Did Ajax get you properly packed, then?”

“Hm?”

She smiled and repeated herself.

“Oh. Sort of. He sent a checklist and I did the rest. I did get an – unnecessary – talking to about my wardrobe selection on the way here, though.”

Childe smirked. “All she packed were pretty little sundresses-”

“He’s lying.”

His booted feet crossed at the ankles as he balanced back in his chair, chin tilted down so he could properly examine you.

“I did give you a bit of a hard time, didn’t I, traveler? You weren’t too happy with me at all.” He reached over and playfully flicked a loose piece of hair that had been covering the full extent of your side glare. He laughed and turned to his mother. “You should’ve seen the way she was huddled up in the cabin, it was quite the entertainment. Folded herself up like the cutest little block of ice.”

Your heart skipped a beat, face heating, but he seemed all too casual. Cute? Who was he calling cute? You vowed to serve his head on a platter at the next family meal.

“It’s much colder at sea,” you muttered.

“You wouldn’t believe it now, mother, but there was a time she’d have had my head for teasing her like this.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t rule that out just yet.” Your eyes darted across the table to meet his mother’s twinkling gaze. You felt the uneasy furrow in your brow immediately begin to smooth and softly, you smiled back at her.

Childe re-crossed his arms cheerfully. “Luckily we’re on better terms now, aren’t we traveler?”

“Not for much longer.”

His family laughed. Unable to meet his gaze, you dropped your eyes to your plate, clanking your silverware around, feeling like a nervous child.

The rest of supper was uneventful, all things considered. You told them of your adventures; the choleric skies of Inazuma, the rolling hills of Sumeru, embellishing a bit only for the benefit of the younger Teucer, who sat on his hands, looking between Childe and you with a shining devotion.

The boy, then, with the enthusiasm of a dog with a bone, launched into the story of that day at the “toy factory”, when you’d seen the first glimpses of the shadows Childe hid inside. It both pleased and saddened you to know that the boy held the memory so close to his heart.

So shockingly in tune you were with the outward flow of Childe’s energy that it was impossible to ignore the near imperceptible shift in his demeanor. You peeked at him. Childhood had to end somewhere, of course, but knowing what you did about Childe, the last breath of innocence had come for him much too soon. Which made Teucer’s fearlessness all the more troubling to him.

“I worry.” Childe had written to you once in a letter. “I was never so bold as him. Not then at least.”

Those shadows of himself, they weren’t so easily hidden from you now.

Childe’s fingers tapped lightly upon his thigh and like a rubber band pulled taut, your hand snapped toward him with zero destination, your heart solely aching with the sudden need to comfort. He stilled, gaze dropping surprised on your fingers fluttering uncertainly upon the bare skin of his forearm.

Embarrassed, you moved to pull away, but quick as a flash, his hand snatched you back, warm, gloveless fingers capturing yours, threading them through and tightening.

Teucer kept talking, everyone clueless but perhaps his attentive mother to the pyro burst that had just singed through your every waking nerve, something a lot like terror running rampant through your veins. Your skin felt too hot at the simple touch, stomach too tight.

You jumped when Childe chuckled at Teucer’s exuberance. His hand idly squeezed yours, thumb rubbing idle circles into the skin between your thumb and index finger. When his head quirked to the side and found you quietly studying him, the corner of his lips began to curl into the makings of a soft smile.

You looked away, swallowing around the tightness in your throat.

He liked to be near people; liked to hug and touch arms and ruffle hair. But this was a gesture that implied the two of you spoke often through touch.

Well, you suppose that wasn’t entirely untrue.

You fought often, after all, and battle was an intimate affair; breaths intermingling, swords locking as you met in the middle again and again. Insults would fly, sweat would mix, your own gasps of exertion displacing that damp lock of ginger hair that always plastered to the center of his forehead when you’d been at it for awhile. The mere thought of it now had heat pooling like liquid gold in your belly.

You yanked away from the intimate grip and flew up from your seat to start helping his mother at the sink. With a yawning stretch, Childe stood and started clearing the rest of the dishes and your heart squeezed at the sight of this domestic side of him.

Teucer’s arms wrapped your legs from behind. “I’m so glad you’re dating my brother.”

The laugh on your lips turned into a choke as your brain short-circuited, thoughts turning to mush as your eyes widened on Childe, who’d frozen mid-step, a stack of dishes fitted into the crook of his elbow. You could almost see the cogs turn in his mind as mischief flared in his eyes like a lit match, terribly devilish when coupled with the slight upturn of his lips. He cocked his head at you as if to say “well?” a tuft of autumn hair falling across his eyes.

Gently, you detached yourself from the boy. “We’re- we’re not uh…”

Teucer’s brows furrowed, shoulders falling in disappointment.

“You’re not? But…” He looked to his older brother.

There was something so sad in the boy's voice that you hesitated and the silence grew incriminating, thicker and thicker until his mother stepped in.

“Teucer, sweetie-”

“We are,” you blurted, voice pitching unnaturally. “Yeah, uh. We are.”

“I knew it!”

Teucer beamed up at you and then let out a loud whoop, running away with his arms raised high.

You blinked. Oh Archons, you’d said it. You’d just said yes. You’d lied, sealed yourself off to a fate of the worst kind of humiliation at the hands of your former foe. You didn’t think it was possible for your cheeks to get any hotter.

Childe regarded you from beneath his brows and you quickly looked away from his terribly unreadable expression.

He turned to his mother abruptly. “So how are the fish biting this season?”

Oh, you were going to kill him.

The rest of the night was a blur. You didn’t address Childe and he disappeared anyway, making himself busy putting the kids to bed as you helped clean up and chatted with his mother, who blessedly didn’t mention your gaffe.

You hardly remembered what half-baked excuse you’d murmured in order to excuse yourself. You thanked her for dinner, bundled up quietly, and headed out into the bone-chilling cold, the bitterness a balm for your frayed nerves.

You approached the tiny guest house.

Gods, what spun out lie would you have to come up with to get out of this one? You considered slipping away into the night as you turned the key in the lock.

The room was pitch black and you fumbled for a good few seconds for the light before cursing, finally conjuring up a crackling ball of electricity in your palm.

“Hey, girlie.” You yelped and crashed back against the door right as light blossomed across the one room house. “Took you long enough.”

Childe was eyeing you lazily from his laid back position on your bed, looking wholly bored. Like you’d kept him waiting for hours. His hands were laced over his sternum, fingers tapping an unheard rhythm.

“What is wrong with you?” you hissed. “What is your insistence on always slinking about like some creepy old ghoul?”

“A ghoul?”

“You almost scared me to death!”

“Oh,” he said casually, propping himself up on his elbows. “Well it would be awfully depressing if after all this time I lost you to a bit of fright.”

You set your jaw and marched over to light the small fireplace, shrugging out of your coat, anxiety surging forth to take the place of the adrenaline ebbing out of your system, your hands shaking slightly as you stoked the fire. The image of him propped up on your bedspread was a tantalizing one. His gaze prickled at the back of your neck.

“Freezing in here,” you muttered. A chuckled response at your nervousness had you spinning around to pin him with a lethal glare, the fire behind you swelling at your call. Your hand instinctively went to grab the hilt of your sword, only to remember it lay packed away in your bag. So your arm whipped out to point at him accusingly.

“What are you even doing in here? Get out!”

“There she is,” Childe said, his voice almost reverent as his eyes flicked across you. “Stay right there, traveler. Perfect. You know, you’re quite the pretty picture like that.” A small thrill shuddered through you at the flicker of dark excitement in his eyes, there and then gone. His palms raised in mock surrender when your nose scrunched, fists balling angrily at your sides. “Hey, no need for theatrics. You’re my guest, after all. What kind of host would I be if I didn’t make sure you made it home safe?”

Your focus flickered briefly to the wide spread of his long legs.

“On my twenty foot journey over here?”

His head fell against his hunched shoulder with a teasing grin. “Who knows what sort of ghouls lurk around the forests of Snezhnaya?”

“I mean, I’d hope you would.”

Childe shrugged. “I do,” he admitted. “I just couldn’t let my best girl leave without so much as a goodnight.”

A shocking brightness blossomed in your chest and you set your jaw against it.

“Okay. If this is about what I said earlier… it was a slip of the tongue and I’m embarrassed enough as is so-”

“C’mere.”

“No.”

His mouth tilted into a fond smile. “Please?” He pushed himself to sit fully upright, leaning forward, elbows coming to prop atop his knees. You squinted as if he’d grown a second head. “Come on. I have something for you.”

“Last time you said something to that effect, I was nearly crushed by a whale.”

“It’s nothing like that. Swear on it.” He placed an earnest hand over his heart. “Besides, this shack is far too small, not much merit in taking us both out, don’t you think?”

“You’ve done crazier things.” You drew on your dwindling anger. “Like calling me cute.”

“You are cute,” he said. “Especially when you get all spitty with me like this. Now come here. Please. Don’t make me beg.”

You swallowed, fingers twitching at your sides, a sudden desire thrumming a needy tune between your legs. Bracing yourself, you stiffly closed more space between the two of you, still stopping several feet away.

He hummed disapprovingly. “Closer. Come on. You scared or something?”

“I’m plenty close. And if you hand me a stupid beetle or something, I’ll kill you.”

His hand flew out to grab a fistful of your shirt and yank you forward with a squeal. “Childe!” you shouted, catching yourself against his shoulders.

“There we go,” he said softly, your faces only inches apart. “Not so bad like this, is it?” He reached behind him. You relinquished your hold on his shoulders but his knees tightened around your thighs to keep you moving away. And for the first time, your instinct was to stay.

“Here,” he said, pleased. “Tonia told me to give this to you.” A single flower was in his hand, a beautiful coral red star with giant, shimmering petals.

You struggled to find words in the following silence. “Oh…”

“Do you like it?” The dark stem of a dendrobium spun between his agile fingers as he stared at it in thought. “I suppose you’d already know it’s a rare thing to come across one. There’s a legend in Inazuma that says dendrobiums can only grow in the wake of spilt blood. The bloodier the soil, the prettier and bigger the petals. Someone smart as you could probably puzzle out why I’m drawn to such things.”

Your nervous swallow was excruciatingly loud. “How would Tonia have-”

“Traveler…” he scolded quietly. Your breath cut embarrassingly short when his teasing gaze rose to meet yours. “You know how it hurts my heart when you don’t listen. I never said Tonia picked it herself. Just that she advised me to give it to you. After all, it was you that came to mind when I spotted it poking out so colorfully from between the rocks. Do you mind?”

His hand rose and he waited before taking your frozen, doe-eyed gaze as permission to sweep his fingers ghostlike up your cheek to push a fallen strand of hair behind your ear, sliding the flower into your hair.

The significance of his words hit you with the force of a raging Sumpter beast. He’d picked a flower for you. Such a simple gesture, yet your heart slammed in your chest.

Was this all some ploy? Your throat tightened further when you found no such evidence, bottom lip warbling slightly.

“Thanks,” you said carefully.

Slowly, studying you closely for any signs you meant to pull away, Childe curled his index fingers into your belt loops. His lips quirked when you allowed him to tug you further into him, until you were nestled fully within the heated framework of his thighs.

“What you said earlier at dinner,” he murmured. “You made me wait a long time to hear you admit that.”

“Admit what exactly?”

“That we’re something special, you and I.”

Childe latched onto your wrist, massaging gentle circles into your knuckles. When you wobbled on your feet, he twisted your palm upward to press a lingering kiss to the center of it and you shuddered, lips parting slightly. A pleased, catlike smile toyed at the corner of his mouth.

“Are we together, traveler, like you said?”

With one hand, you gripped the base of his chin between forefinger and thumb, the latter sweeping upward to explore the outline of his lips before tracing slowly up the curve of his jawline in thought. He hummed at your touch, the sound low and drawn out, sending a shock of heat between your legs. Your face burned and you opened your mouth. Shut it. Opened it again.

“I didn’t mean to say that earlier-”

In one swift movement, Childe’s grip had tightened on your wrist and he’d yanked you toward him, using the momentum to whirl you onto the middle of the bed with a cry of surprise. Intent on giving him an angry earful, you shoved yourself up, propped on your palms. But the words swelled and stuck in your throat at the roguish gleam in his eyes, the bed dipping as he crawled toward you.

Without any thought, your legs fell apart to allow him through.

“I’m going to have to disagree with you,” he said, advancing still, forcing you to retreat backward, flatten yourself until all you knew was his pretty face hovering above yours, his weight settling between your legs. “You never say things you don’t mean.”

Your heart clattered, chest rising with shallow breaths that drew his gaze downward.

“Maybe. But sometimes I do say things before I’ve thought them all the way through.”

“Mm, you’re not so wrong about that.” He lowered onto his elbows until the tip of his nose nearly brushed yours.

“I guess I just didn’t think before I said it,” you stammered. “Your brother seemed so confident and I didn’t…” You squeezed your eyes shut. “I didn’t know if you wanted that.”

Your skin burned white hot at the admission. Did he know just how vulnerable you were allowing yourself to be right now? The terror that lit through your chest when you thought about him not feeling the same way?

Childe grinned. “It’s a shame you’re blind as well as loose-tongued. Well, it would be pretty awkward to take it back now, yes? So I guess you’re stuck with me in the meantime.”

You laughed, the ball of tension easing in your chest.

“I think your family likes me alright,” you said quietly and he laughed at the change of subject.

“They do. A little too much, I’m afraid. We’ll have to make sure Teucer doesn’t smuggle himself along in your bags.”

You looked up at him, a long felt but never before addressed emotion swelling almost painfully in your chest. “You’re rare, you know,” you blurted. “I’ve never- I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Childe’s eyes softened. “I can hardly believe you’re real sometimes.”

Foregoing further words, you spread your legs all the way, inviting him to nestle more fully into the crux of your thighs. His breath stuttered across your lips at the hard press of his erection against your front. You bit your bottom lip, holding in a smirk. “I’m plenty real when I beat you in every fight–”

Matching your energy immediately, two large hands cupped your face, thumbs bracing beneath your chin to gently lever your mouth shut. “Shhh,” he murmured, slowly bending down to press a kiss to each corner of your mouth. “We can get to the bottom of that another time. But for now just… behave.”

A tiny whine from you was all it took for him to finally press his lips against yours.

The room dimmed and sharpened all at once. The muscles on his arms and back turned boneless beneath your fingers as he sighed into your mouth, as if your lips working back against his were a long-awaited antidote. It was slow, sweet. His thumbs traced gentle half moons under your eyes and his tongue dipped in tentatively before he grew bolder, gaining ground when you parted your lips in response to a well-timed drag of his hips.

A hand smoothed down your hair, coming to cradle the back of your head, pulling you in like he could inhale you completely, until it was bruising and raw and exhilarating; a different kind of battle entirely.

Your fingers worked clumsily at the buttons of his shirt from the top down, ghosting over the raised skin of old scars as you went. His breath hitched beneath your touch, the skin of his abdomen tightening and jumping as you teased beneath the hem of his pants before working unsuccessfully at his belt buckle.

“Stupid Sneznhayan bullshit…” you hissed against his mouth.

The hand in your hair tightened and you let out a humiliating noise, abandoning his belt and finding purchase in his shirt, using it to lever your hips up into his. Grinding to relieve some of the ache pulsing between your thighs. An amused laugh puffed against your cheek at your frustration and his head dropped to murmur against your ear.

“I do love your determination. It’s one of my favorite things about you. But it would be a shame to rush through this first part, don’t you think?”

His hand cupped the opposite side of your face so he could plant a firm, lingering kiss to your temple while the other now ran up and down your side.

“Be patient with me?”

“Sure thing,” you said hoarsely right before his thumb found and circled the pert bud of your nipple through your shirt. You shuddered violently against him, legs wrapping his hips mindlessly, yanking him in. “Actually no. No, no, no.”

Childe laughed but the noise was tattered around the edges.

“Always figured you’d be greedy in bed.”

“Archons, y-you’re so annoying sometimes.”

He nipped your bottom lip, sharp and punishing, drawing back to look at your disoriented expression.

“I want you to do something for me,” he said, raising his shoulder further so he could wedge the wandering hand in between you.

“Wha-?” you squeaked, hips dipping into the bed to assist.

“Will you tell me about the day we met?”

The request was unexpected. Kind of wholesome if it weren’t paired with the slide of his palm between your thighs, cupping gently along the curve of your pussy through the fabric of your pants. Oh gods. You shuddered, eyes fluttering shut. It felt so deliriously good, just being held by him like this. With the heat of his palm unmoving and his bare skin just two layers away from yours.

“You don’t remember?” you croaked. He drew just his middle finger firmly up the seam and back down, catching your clit, your spine arching upward like you’d been hit by an electro burst.

“Of course I remember,” he said, brows furrowing at you as if the question was offensive. “But we’ve all got our versions to tell. Let me hear yours.”

“I was–”

You paused nervously as Childe’s lazy grin turned almost smug. He worked with only one hand at your belt, his eyes attentively on yours as he showed you up, unclasping and tugging until the two ends separated. He undid the button beneath with a deft thumb and forefinger. Without being asked, your hips raised, wriggling as he sat back on his heels to slowly tug your pants and underwear off.

You thanked your past self for lighting the fireplace as the open air hit the glistening wetness of your spread cunt. Childe’s gaze roved unabashedly, his fingers at his own waist now, undoing the clasp of his belt but going no further. His eyes flicked back up to yours with a devout intensity before he shrugged out of his shirt.

“Go on, traveler. You were saying?”

Emboldened by the bulge pressing hard and insistent at the front of his pants, you pushed yourself up to your knees, scooching forward until your thighs bracketed his own, gifting him with the sight of the spread of you. His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he glanced down. No longer in a rush, you trailed your hands across his chest. Explored the soft planes of his abdomen, running along curves of smooth, defined muscle. Rising to thumb over his nipples, testing him, studying his reactions. Seeing what he liked.

“I uh–” you cleared your throat “-was running from the Millelith.”

“Interesting but I already know that. Tell me what you were feeling,” he said, tossing your shirt carelessly over the side of the bed, moving on to your bra. “Hmm, better yet, tell me how relieved you were to see me.”

“Ah ok. So you need your ego stroked.”

“For starters.” His lips curled suggestively. Previously dragging light patterns across his skin, your nails clawed in hard and you were rewarded with the slight drop of his jaw and the low rumble of an appreciative groan.

Being completely exposed before Childe was nothing like you’d imagined. There was no self-consciousness, no reservations at all as his hands explored and cupped. Because you already knew each other, you realized, had already done this intimate dance; each dip, each curve memorized and stored from all those battles at the Golden House. The only thing left was to see.

“I think I was too full of adrenaline to be nervous,” you began. “But I guess I was backed into a bit of a corner when you found me.” You leaned forward with a small smile, palm cupping between his legs in the same tormenting fashion his had, sliding along the outline of his cock. Childe’s hips jerked. A soft moan tickled the hairs at the crown of your head, his chin coming to rest briefly atop as if looking at the motion of your fingers would be far too much.

“I was relieved to see you, sure,” you continued, thumb teasing at the ridge. “Could’ve handled it on my own, though.”

You felt his throat rumble out a warm laugh as you worked his pants open. “You could have, I’m sure.”

“I think I liked you right away,” you continued. “Before anything I admired your prowess. But I suppose I found you… cute,” you said, recycling the same word he’d used to describe you. You pulled him out before he could say anything cheeky in response. Wrapped him with your warm palm and gave an experimental stroke, grinning when he went completely stiff, a hushed curse following.

“Did you ever think about me like this?” The words spilled from Childe’s lips and he pulled back to look down at you, breathless, jaw working as he relished your slow strokes for a moment. “Back before you knew who I really was?”

“Yeah,” you answered honestly. You waited for the pang of resentment that used to come at the thought of his previous betrayal. But there was nothing, the idea so far removed from who the both of you were now that there was no harm in expounding. “Even after I knew, too. I… touched myself a lot. The thoughts were just angrier.”

“Yeah. Yeah I bet.”

Some strangled noise that seemed like it had been stuck at the back of his throat was released when your thumb swiped over his leaking tip. Cupping your face with a sudden urgency, he yanked you into a fierce kiss. But he pulled back as soon as it started, smile lazy and pleased at your dazed expression.

“My turn, yeah?” Childe’s head cocked. “I saw you first at the gates of Liyue when you arrived. I had to see the golden hero of Mondstadt with my own eyes, after all. And what a sight you were,” he purred. The fast, downward trajectory of his hand had you pulling in a breath and holding it in anticipation. “So pretty in that little dress. I thought about taking you for all you were worth right then and there. I think you would’ve come around to it. Am I right, traveler? If I’d have approached you then, would you have let me do this to you?”

You expected him to tease, hold out on you, so when his middle finger slid directly through your folds to dip lightly into the mess of your center, you nearly combusted, letting out a hoarse cry. Tried to pull away but his other hand curved the back of your neck, tugging you into his shoulder.

Childe turned to lay a gentle kiss on your cheek, fluttering his finger at your entrance just lightly enough to make a vulgar, wet noise.

“Well? Would you have?”

You shuddered. Nodded mindlessly and he purred in satisfaction at the easy give of two fingers, sliding into your cunt to the knuckle, hooking and hitting a spot inside you that had starlight bursting behind your eyelids. But still you fought through, pumping him, the movements jerky and pathetic now.

“But it was the day we really met, traveler. That day at the Golden House when I saw you for what you really were. That wild look in your eyes when you wanted to kill me so badly. I’ll never forget it. That’s when I knew for certain that no matter the outcome, I had to have you.”

“Childe–” you whined, hardly remembering to stroke him still.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, “just hold onto me.”

And so you did, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him pump his fingers into you, slow and torturous until you burned white hot and senseless. Hardly aware even of your back delicately pressing into the mattress again, the new position allowing him more depth, each curl accompanied by a tiny whimper. You felt the quiet flutter of climax already brushing like a flurry of feathers across your skin. It was like nothing you’d experienced, being tucked into Childe’s neck like this, one of his hands still caressing your hair so sweetly while the other stretched you open.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” his faraway voice murmured, coaxing you to relax beneath him but you couldn’t while his lips brushed your cheek. While his fingers pumped, while the smell of him filled your senses.

You loved him. You loved him.

Everything swelled at once; emotion and that twisting pleasure in your belly rising sharply until your body went rigid, nails digging helplessly into his shoulders as you grasped for a tether to reality. A torn keen loosened from the depths of your chest as he worked you through with murmured, rhythmic praises. You spasmed against him, clinging like the illusion of him could disappear at any moment, leaving you nothing but a shuddering mess. You fell back onto the bed panting.

A press against the corner of your mouth and your eyes fluttered open. The sensitive slide of his fingers out of your pussy had your lips parting just enough that he could slide his tongue softly through. You lay there motionless for a time, blinking the pleasure from your eyes, Childe just massaging his tongue against yours, eyes closed, dipping in and out of you slowly.

His cock laid heavy and hot on your hip, leaking hot precum across your skin. Groaning, you finally reciprocated his kiss, your fervor met with a long purr of contentment from above. Your nails dug grooves into his bare hips, dragging him against you, imploring him without words.

Childe inhaled a sharp breath and pulled back to look at your face, eyes glazed slightly.

“You alright?” was all he said, voice in such shreds it had you laughing, cupping his face in your hands.

“Yeah, you idiot.”

The side of his nose brushed yours, a wry grin curling his lips. “Kind of impolite for a girl who was just cumming all over my fingers.” He pressed a single, firm kiss against your mouth before reaching between you to position his cock, wetting it with a drag through your slit before pressing in just slightly.

Childe’s blue eyes flickered between yours.

“I love you, too, by the way.”

Your eyes widened but any further reaction on your part was taken up by the delicious, burning stretch as he slowly pushed into you with a drawn out groan, not stopping until he’d bottomed out inside you, the only sound punctuating the room for several seconds the sound of steadying breaths.

You could already feel yourself making room for him, fitting yourself around him.

“Keep moving or I’ll die.”

His laugh was strained and he seemed oddly hesitant still, like he wasn’t quite ready to stop looking at you. You smiled softly and he let out a content sigh, his head falling to your shoulder. His cock inched out of you, pushing back in at the same dragging pace. And he began to fuck you deep, rocking into you slow.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured into your ear.

He loved you. Childe loved you.

Everything was perfect. He was perfect. The way he sucked gentle bruises into your skin. The way his hips rolled so steadily and how he was ruining you slow, hitting all the right spots inside you that had you gasping for breath, softly whimpering with each thrust.

You were warriors, yes. It was your baser instincts. But the pace that he set made clear that the quick step, fierce clashing of swords was momentarily being tossed aside in favor of slow hands. You panted as you took him again and again, your sweat mixing, brushing that damp lock of ginger hair to the side so you could fall into the blue of his eyes.

“I have another confession,” Childe murmured against your neck. “And I feel terrible about this one. So don’t bark at me.”

“Is now really the time for confession?”

Childe turned you over, his hands falling immediately to steady your hips, guide them into the same rolling tempo on top of him.

“Good as any, I think.”

He pinched the skin of your thigh when you didn’t respond, too blissed out and focused on the second rising tide swirling low in your belly.

“F-fine.”

“I told them myself that we were dating.”

“Wh-hat?” you choked out as his thumb found your clit, rolling in tight circles. He groaned at your hard clench around him. Archons, you were right on the precipice.

“I told my family in my letters,” he panted. “Told everyone I could that we were together a long time ago, traveler. That I’d found myself a pretty little adventurer in Liyue that I intended to make mine. Don’t you think that was presumptuous of me?”

“Ch-Childe–”

You didn’t know how to process the information, let alone respond. Your head spun, everything tightening inside, but terribly slow. With a plea on your lips, your hands flew up to play with your nipples, desperate for something to send you over that edge. You heard Childe curse under his breath quietly, hands digging into the flesh of your hip bones as he seemed to steady himself.

“Childe.”

“So really, I knew before you did,” he said, sounding like a fraying rope. “The whole world knew you were mine before you did. But I knew you’d come around. Knew it as surely as I know the Sneznhayan sky. Knew it as surely as I know you.”

Childe drew one arm around your back, the other up your spine until his hand found the back of your neck, pulling you forward to press his mouth to yours before his lips slid forward and found your ear.

“And I do know you.”

Suddenly, you were locked against him, his hips snapping into yours with a fervor. You gasped because there it was, that pounding friction that had you nearly sobbing into his neck, clawing at the bed as you were sped toward that edge and soared right over it.

The arms holding you so tightly left no space to roll and flex your body naturally through your release. It was a debilitating ecstasy, destructive and wet, all centered at one nexus point between your legs, so powerful it had you drenching his cock as he stuffed you again and again. Before you’d even remembered to breathe, Childe was swallowing your anguished whine, shifting your body upward so he could chase his own release.

“Say it again,” he gasped against your lips. “Please.”

Somehow, you knew. “Love you,” you breathed, completely dazed.

“Again, again, again.” He pounded into you desperately and you felt the telltale tightening of his abdomen, the beginning stutter of his hips.

You grabbed his face and poured every ounce of yourself into it. “I love you, Childe.”

A choked laugh turned into a groan as he slammed himself deep, emptying inside your still convulsing cunt, showering you with so many breathless praises that they all slur together like a desperate prayer. His face tipped back so beautifully, twisting in ecstasy before he went boneless, the only sound in the room your labored breathing.

You waited until your heartbeat slowed to shift atop him, rolling until you were tucked into his side instead. Your eyelids felt like a weighted blanket but you were too lost in thought to drift off now, fingers tracing lazy patterns into his skin.

Minutes and minutes passed. You fiddled with the flower in your hair.

“So everyone knew we were together except me?” you asked, more sheepish than intended, cheek moving against the hard planes of his bare abdomen so you could peer up at him. Childe burst into laughter and you found yourself pressing closer to absorb the sound.

“You really are blind. Every opportunity I had to show you my true feelings, I took. Even that floating bag of flour had her suspicions.” You smacked his chest hard but he continued with a chuckle. “Always looking over your shoulder like she could kill me on the spot. If she could see us now.”

With practiced quickness, you straddled his hips, palms propping on either side of his head. “That’s enough.”

Naturally, his fingers found your sides, dragging up and down, eyes full of a shining devotion.

“You’re beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that to get your cock touched again.”

Childe smiled dangerously. “Dirty words from such a pretty mouth. Careful, or we’ll end up making a battlefield of Sneznhaya yet.”

You grinned down at him for a long, giddy moment. “I could be tempted.”

#tartaglia #childe #childe genshin impact #tartaglia x reader #reader insert #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #childe x reader #f!reader #fanfic

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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year

Text

Girl Under You [g.u.y]

Rooster being ridiculously hot/complicated. fwb. the usual warnings, friends - smut, angst, fluff, angst, smut, angst, language. 18+. 7.2k words.

“i just want it to be hot, because i’m best when i’m in love and i’m in love with you”.

But you’re not in love with him. It’s just the things he can do to your body, and the way he talks, or how he flits in and out of your life with no chance of any kind of commitment --

Vice Admiral Simpson stood before you, the usual lack of humour gracing his handsome features as he waited for your attention.

“Sir,” you acknowledged, looking up from his calendar on the screen before you, a surprising marking of private meetings popping up from the office of Rear Admiral Bates.

“The boarding list for the detachment that arrives tonight,” he dropped a file on your desk.

“Absolutely, sir. Your calendar has filled up quickly this afternoon,” you noted, casting an eye over the names.

He nodded solemnly. “I’m expecting Captain Pete Mitchell imminently. Please send him in when he arrives. Time is short, it’s imperative he’s up to scratch with this mission at the earliest.”

“Yes, sir. I received an email from Commander Kazansky suggesting the same thing…” You raised an eyebrow as he sighed.

“Thank you.” He stalked his way to his office, closing the door quietly.

The list. Some you knew, some you didn’t. One that haunted your days and nights.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw.

To you, he was perfect. Wavy, dirty blonde dark hair, a smattering of freckles across his strong nose, and deep hazel eyes, that if the sun hit them just right, glittered like honey. Body by the Gods. Hell, when he smirked, even the moustache was tolerable. You weren't sure if it were a burden or a curse that he had been recalled back to North Island.

It had always been pretty casual between you. He’d been back and forth over the years, and you fell into an easy maybe-friends-with-benefits-type-relationship that would most likely get you, or both of you, fired if anyone found out. But that’s what made it so good – that it was only you and him and whatever the mess was –

“Simpson, huh? How’d you get so lucky?” the captain before you said in a quiet tease, snapping you back to reality from your daydream.

“Well, with Commander Kazansky retiring…” You motioned Maverick to shush, hoping not to rouse the admirals on the other side of the door as he nodded solemnly. “Have you heard from him? Is it back again?” You’d reached your own conclusions about your former boss’ cancer diagnosis returning a while back, but never dared ask and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.

Mav shrugged gently. “You know better than me, kid.”

“How are you, Mav?” you asked informally… just how Maverick preferred it.

He smiled. “Not bad for an old guy.”

You bit back a grin, the moment passing, recalling the urgency on the other side of the door. “Just a hint, Captain Mitchell? Vice Admiral Simpson prefers you earlier.” You winked, getting up from your desk and knocking on the door of his office.

“I’m right on time,” he defended himself.

“Yes, you are certainly late, sir,” you reiterated, hoping he’d catch your drift.

“Send him in,” Simpson’s voice muttered behind the door.

“Send him in,” you said to Maverick, opening the door and stepping aside. “Warlock is already in there,” you told him knowingly as Maverick gave a slight nod and you closed the door after him.

His reputation may have preceded him, but his attitude and appearance did not alarm you. You’d heard Simpson storm about Maverick returning to Top Gun over the last 24 hours and was silenced when Ice had emailed in no uncertain terms: enough.

Maverick was back to instruct the return of the best of the best. Some you knew (Bradshaw, Seresin, Trace) and a few others whose names you’d heard in passing, maybe you’d met them while they had trained there in the past.

They were all the same. Mostly harmless, but egos were all completely out of check. No modesty for any of them - they knew they were good. And if you were really lucky, your phone would be ringing about 11pm tonight from the best. You rubbed your thighs together in eager anticipation.

While you expected your phone to ring, Rooster Bradshaw turned out to be anything but predictable. Knowing he was back, you’d avoided The Hard Deck that night for good reason. He’d roll in, God of sexual desire, Son of Aphrodite, with his familiar wet smirk, stupid fucking aviators and his body even more impressive than before. A trail of women would instantly take note that he’d arrived - and as far as they were concerned - fair game. That was probably where he was, balls deep in some easy lay.

You were supposed to be the easy lay though, you thought petulantly, kicking your feet. That was the deal. You don’t hear from him when he’s away, he wasn’t stationed locally, and he owed you absolutely nothing. But those nights you shared a bed? He found ways to make you feel so fucking good.

You knew you weren’t the only one that he probably made feel this way, but Rooster Bradshaw had a wonderful knack for making you believe that in the moments you shared, it was only you.

Like you could love him - and he could love you back.

You hated that you often found yourself lost fantasising about him and wondered if he did the same of you. Recalling those moments when he’d make you cum so hard that your eyes rolled back in your head and your name was often forgotten. It was exactly how he liked it. He’d kiss you and give an ETA on how long he was sticking around and how long that would include turning your world upside down as it should be right now.

But you already knew the training scheduled for the next three weeks before deployment was brutal, one of the most tightly orchestrated detachments you’d seen pass through in a long time, which also meant there was potential for an awful lot of his body and finding new and exciting ways to cover hickeys, bruises and swollen lips.

“So, where the fuck are you, Bradshaw?” you muttered, tossing and turning insolently in your bed, only making the sticky room hotter. You finally turned your phone on silent and forced yourself into a restless sleep in the hope that tomorrow was a better day and Rooster came to his goddamn senses.

You felt his presence before you saw him. At 6’1” and a mountain of muscle in your peripheral, his flight suit wrapped around his waist, the light stale stench of sweat invading your nostrils, Rooster’s large palms rested on your desk as he leaned over, inspecting you.

“I imagine you’re next to get chewed out,” you said barely above a whisper, rejecting - no, positively refusing to look at him, instead focusing on the screen before you.

“By you or…” He had the audacity to tease.

“Breaking the hard deck, insubordination,” you raffled off. “All class. Seems you’ve had quite the first day in the air, Lieutenant,” you sneered at his title, and he licked his lips, wholly amused by the power struggle in the small office.

“News travels fast.”

“These walls are paper thin,” you muttered, forcing yourself to type something, anything, to look busier than you let on. Tapping the keys, a jumble of letters bobbled in front of you. Utter nonsense. “Take a seat. Vice Admiral Simpson will be with you when he’s ready.”

“Maverick still in there?”

“No.”

“Didn’t see you at Penny’s last night. Thought you’d be there,” his voice dropped.

“Sorry to inform you, but I don’t fraternise,” you replied, tone bored. He saw right through it.

“With whom?” You could hear the humour laced in his rasp, and you could throttle him. He dared you to respond.

Looking at him pointedly, and for the first time since he’d crashed back into your life, you replied, “Naval aviators.” He was bulkier than you remembered, curly tendrils drenched, droplets of sweat dripping from his Adam’s Apple to the collar of his black undershirt that could barely contain his rippling chest and biceps.

Blinking slowly, he hummed. “Okay...”

Simpson’s door opened, and Rooster shot to his feet. “Get in here, Lieutenant. You’d better have a very good explanation for your determination to get yourself kicked out on day one.”

“Yessir,” he replied. It felt nice to watch Rooster brought down to earth so quickly. Simpson gave you a small frown and asked why you were still there but you had no excuses. You knew once Maverick was summoned, Rooster likely would be too and your suspicions proved correct.

It was a lie to say you weren’t desperate to see Rooster. See if he’d changed, see if he still wore that same cologne. If his voice was still as gravelly. Sadly, he was still perfectly the same with the addition of stronger muscles - and more arrogance.

“Leaving shortly, sir.”

“I should expect so. Enjoy your night,” he said, quietly going back into this office and closing the door after him and you gasped because you felt as if you hadn’t taken a breath since Rooster had walked in and your chest ached for it.

“This is Bob and Coyote,” Phoenix introduced you to her detachment team, including a shy blonde in BCG’s and as well as Coyote, if his leering grin was anything to go by. Well, they certainly weren’t an unattractive group, you noted. You gave a polite wave in greeting as Phoenix explained who you were. “And you probably know Bagman.”

You sadly remembered Bagm- Jake Seresin. He was in the same graduating class as Rooster all those years ago.

“Hangman,” he corrected Phoenix without so much as a blink, he was used to her torture. A bit of a masochist, you imagined he enjoyed her getting riled up because of him. “You used to be Iceman’s assistant,” Hangman filled in the gaps.

“Used to be.” You nodded and sipped your beer.

“How you findin’ Cyclone?”

“By name and nature,” you admitted. “Direct, but not a bad guy.”

“Have you always been based out here?” Coyote asked, offering his palm. “Because honestly? I’d remember you,” he dared try as you laughed quietly, shaking his hand. They were all the same and it wasn’t offensive because you knew as well as they did that it would go no further than a cheeky flirt…in most instances.

“Actually, Coyote…” Hangman spoke up. “If I recall… didn’t you used to fuck around with Rooster back in the day?” he asked, pointing his bottle towards you, his green eyes dancing with mirth. He knew exactly who you were. Warning bells screamed in your ears as you tried to remain steady. “I can swear I remember you two toying around when we were here last,” he paused for dramatic effect. “Top Gun’s worst kept secret, we called you.”

Coyote looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I think you’re mistaken,” you muttered in warning as Hangman grinned and you regretted biting back instantly. You could swear you just gave him enough ammo to get through the next few weeks of training to make Rooster’s life miserable.

“Knock it off,” Phoenix warned as he and Coyote wandered away, sharing a quiet joke together.

“Whatcha think I just cost Rooster?” you asked Phoenix quietly. She sighed and shrugged.

“They’re already at each other’s throats and it’s only day one.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” you sipped your beer and turned your head to Bob. He looked up, a small look of surprise gracing his fair features at your sudden attention. “Robert Floyd, how are you enjoying flying with the beautiful Phoenix here?”

“Best partner a guy could ask for,” he said sweetly. You grinned with Phoenix; you reckoned you liked Bob Floyd and his BCGs.

Body aching in all the right places, your fingertips danced through the peaks and ridges of Rooster’s chest later that evening because, at 11:30 pm, he retained his expectedness and could be found knocking at your front door, all big puppy dog eyes and a barely-there smile.

“You lost?” you asked, sarcasm evident in your voice as you glanced at your watch, ignoring the rising pulse rate on its face. Piece of shit. He shook his head.

“No,” his lip quirked at your attitude. “Right on time actually.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m nothing, if not prompt.”

You rolled your eyes. He looked divine. Smelled divine. Sounded like church bells. Fuck him, he was a professional at wrecking your senses.

“I expected to see you last night,” he continued, not daring to step over the threshold without your permission.

“You saw me at work.”

“At the bar,” he corrected himself.

“I told you, I don’t fraternise, Rooster,” you reiterated evenly.

“You were there tonight, Phoenix told me,” he hummed in disapproval. “No. You avoided me,” he decided, crossing his arms over his strong chest. He lived to fucking tease you although there was no malice behind his tone. “You expected me to make the move.”

“I have the accommodation off base, you dork,” you reminded him somewhat affectionately, clutching his bicep and dragging him by surprise to you, slamming the door after him.

“Resistance is high with you, huh? Fucking futile,” he rolled his eyes, playfully and you swore at that moment, you hated him. He huffed a laugh. “Miss me?” he dared ask, hustling into your space.

“Stop running your mouth and take off your pants,” you insisted, slipping your night tee over your head eagerly.

“Not wasting any time, I see?” he noted the urgency in your movements, his eyes roaming over your body, antsy at how delicious it looked, as he kicked off his boots and unbuckled his jeans. His calloused hands roughly caught you by the jaw and pulled your lips to his, a kiss that was months in the making. You missed the taste of his tongue, tonight laced with the trace of whiskey. “You didn’t wait for me to leave Cyclone’s office,” he accused as he watched you forcefully push down the waist of his jeans. He was hard, so hard, you were hot and bothered, so it would be quick and decisively obscene.

“Did you want a fucking welcome wagon?” you asked, voice dripping with childish sarcasm.

“You and that slick mouth,” he muttered, and he kissed you to shut you up.

You pulled away quick enough to whip the snug cotton tee over his head and drag your nails down his abs, the scratches on his torso likely to cause a ruckus in the locker room tomorrow. He stood before you in his boxer briefs, you in your bra and undies and goodness knows that didn’t suit either of you.

“What kind of bra is this?” he frowned as you slipped the crop off for him and tossed it away. “Oh,” he breathed and licked his lower lip. “Thank you,” he took the new skin he’d missed and kissed you again, his hands roaming freely. You’d barely made it a few feet from the front door, and he’d pushed you onto the nearest surface (entryway table), rolling his hips into yours needing the friction for relief. “Baby, you look good,” he murmured, his lips peppering kisses across your décolletage and sending a frenzy of goose pimples across your skin, grinding into you as you lost your fingers with the short wisps of freshly cropped hair at the nape of his thick neck. “So fucking good.”

By now, you’d be begging to go down on him, taste him, and he’d wrap his arms behind his head, pleased as punch, ready and willing, but right now, all you could recall was how good he felt inside you and how immediate that needed to be.

Your feet not touching the ground, he secured you against him with his strong legs planted firmly. He kissed you as he swept your undies to the side. His long fingers skimmed between your slick folds, and he exhaled.

“Touch me, don’t be sweet,” you begged, frantic to feel friction, eager for him to fill you. You didn’t tend to sleep around. And without Rooster away, you just didn’t find anyone that could command your presence as he could. His body, intelligence (and at times, his absolute lack of it), ego, his perpetual broken heart and baggage… his humour, creativity, beauty and unexpected sensitivity. You supposed on several occasions you were in love with him, he had a knack for bringing you the pleasure that made your serotonin rocket to levels no one else could emulate. And in those moments, after you’d both come and giggled in the revelry of the afterglow, he’d take your hand in his, kiss your forehead, tell you everything you’d missed and expected the same stories to be shared in return as you’d trace the constellations of freckles on his cheeks and rest your head against his wildly beating heart.

He slipped his long fingers under the seams of your underwear and watched you as he discarded them before pausing to remove his boxers, making sure you were watching his every movement. And dear God, how you were.

Adjusting himself at your entrance, neither of you was in the mood to talk about what you’d been up to lately. “Fuck me, for Christ’s sake, Rooster,” you urged him, unkinder than intended as he fisted himself in his palm and slowly pushed into you, bottoming out and he breathed, resting his forehead in your hair.

“Fuck,” he breathed, stilling perfectly. “You feel un-fuckin’-believable. You’re so wet. Christ.”

Forcing your face to him, he kissed you wildly as he began a ruthless assault on your senses, thrusting his cock deep inside as you ran your fingers through his mass of unruly curls, giving them a light tug in encouragement. “I’ve been waiting for you. I thought you’d forgotten about me,” you confided in a whisper.

Groaning as he thrust in, long and slow. “How could I forget this? Your body was made for me. No one else makes me feel this good,” he muttered, and it felt like you couldn’t believe your ears.

You chewed your lip to mute the sounds you couldn’t control as he stared into your eyes, one deep drag after another. Distracting yourself from his gaze, you sucked into his jaw, nuzzling his pulse and he quivered, his head lolling to enjoy it, hips slowing almost to a stop. “You feel so good,” you told him. He loved any kind of encouragement and he kissed you quickly.

“I missed you,” he mumbled, almost drunk and you’d only just started.

The headiness wasn’t new, but it was more dizzying than usual. You’d craved him so much – not just like this, but the way he held you, teased you, knew where to touch and taunt you, and kissed you but you knew, this just wasn’t what friends did.

Over the years, you’d grown to know each other so intimately. You knew he loved having his hair pulled and his pulse kissed, you knew his birthday and knew his sweet tooth was out of this world. He knew that if he pressed into your belly just hard enough, you’d cum for days, the kinds of jokes so dirty that would make you laugh so hard. He knew about your family and how much he’d like them if they’d ever met.

His hips slamming brought you back to him as he gripped your jaw and commanded you to look at him sternly, the muscles of his abs rippling in the movement of his waist.

His body was born from the gods and he was made to be a lover… certainly not a fighter.

He was crumbling before you and reminded you how well he knew you when you said you were close. “I need to feel it,” he begged, stepping closer to kiss you, his hips rolling into yours and the sounds between your bodies indecent. “Lemme kiss you,” he said sweetly, a finger tracing between your ribs, around your belly button and opening you to him. He prodded at your pained clit, forgotten in all the madness, and desperate for attention. A little friction was all it took while he kissed your cries away, muffled against his mouth and he almost gave out, the pull of your orgasm ripping his from him as he fucked you hard and fast, gasping as you pulsated around him, and he grunted low as he came, hard and hot inside you.

“Oh, my God,” you panted against his mouth as he kissed you, frenzied. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart. Fuck, I missed you.”

“No one makes me feel like this,” you said as he stared into your eyes, still deep inside you, the proof of your lovemaking seeping from you both. Sweat, tears, cum. He kissed your cheekbones, your eyelids, nose and lips again, hand delicately catching your neck.

“No one,” he agreed, his thumbs drying the tears on your cheeks you didn’t even know you’d been weeping. “You okay?” he asked with a soft grin. “Was that what you needed?”

Giggling gently, you held his wrists. “I didn’t know I was so desperate.”

“Can I tell you something?” he asked quietly, reaching for his boxers just within his reach and placing them between you to catch the slick that threatened to spill, tidying you before himself.

“A true gentleman,” you playfully rolled your eyes, knowing the table was going to need a thorough sanitisation. “Tell me what?”

“That was exactly what I needed too,” he admitted, pulling you to him and you rested your forehead on his clavicle. He stroked your back and kissed your hair.

“Can you stay?” you hoped it didn’t sound as pleading as it felt.

“All night,” he vowed.

“Hangman made a comment last night at the bar,” you told Rooster, warm against him, your fingers drifting against the soft skin of his ribs. You’d found your way to the bedroom and fucked desperately a few more times. You didn’t know how long “all night” was equated to before he had to leave, and you weren’t looking forward to a cold bed again.

“The fuck he say to you?” Rooster asked harsher than you expected. You could feel him resist under you, his body taut and strong, the hand caressing your shoulder blades now balled into a fist, tensing and flexing in agitation.

“Just a comment about you and me the last time you were both here.”

“Continue.”

“About how we used to fuck around.”

He scoffed. “Jokes on him; we’ve been fucking around for years.”

So fucking tragic, you thought. “He doesn’t need to know that though.”

“No one does,” you traced the ridges of his abs, his belly button, happy trail. “What if…”

“What if what?” his tone slightly clipped and unfamiliar.

“If it gets out, I’ll be sent home regardless,” you told him, and he remained silent. “But I know you love what you do. You can’t afford to lose it,” you looked up at him. “Is that why – ”

“- Why I never gave in and made this real?” he interjected.

“Yes,” you rolled over and moved to sit on his tummy, naked and very exposed as he licked his lips, his calloused palms drifting up your sides and gripping your ribs, thumbs dragging against the soft skin of your breast. He watched you, breathing deeply to compose himself. You were strong and bold above him and made him kind of wild. He reached up to bring a strained nipple to his mouth, keeping his eyes on you as the goose pimples exploded across your body and you shuddered. He smiled and eased back, proud of his work.

“Beautiful.”

You pressed your palms into his chest, his heart beating in your touch, pining him back down. “Rooster, this is just a job. I can get one anywhere. You can’t exactly fall into another job after flying planes for the rest of your life,” you frowned as he gave you a small smile. Well, yes, he could. But it would be better if he didn’t do it with a dishonourable discharge. “With the Navy,” you clarified as he laughed quietly and nodded in understanding.

He brushed your hair back, his large palms sliding down your shoulder, your arm and he took your hand. Kissing your knuckles, he stares intently at you. “I would never ask you to do that for me.”

“And what if that is what I wanted?”

Frowning, he sighed, quiet for a while but you weren’t going anywhere. “Baby… I gotta go. Early start,” he gently pushed you off him and started to get up, as you fell onto the pillows, pulling the sheets up, so humiliated as he started to collect his gear and dress again. You had so many things to say but had lost the ability to speak.

So, this is all it is? I say I’ll give up everything and you reject me, you realised. It felt absolutely brutal.

“I need you to understand,” Rooster said, back in his jeans and turning to face you and keeping his wide berth. “I feel it too, I just…” he sighed, brushing a hand through his wild curls, the words failing him. “If you leave your job and everything here to be with me, I will still keep leaving you,” he said softly.

“I’m not the one that seeks you out, Bradley,” you reminded him, gently. “Tell me this is just sex, and I’ll believe you and get over it. But you need to convince yourself that’s all it is too. We aren’t supposed to do this. You know you’re a bit of a stickler for the rules, so after all these years, you’re still turning up at the time I expect you to. And I know this can’t possibly be all me feeling this is more than it is. But if it is… maybe this has to stop, because it kind of hurts each time you leave.”

He stayed silent, knowing he had to choose his words carefully but you really weren’t sure how else he could try and make you feel better. Neither was he. “I…” he shut his mouth again, tracing his lips with his wet tongue. “I don’t want you to pin all your hopes and dreams on me and I might not come home,” he said quietly. “Trust me when I say this, and please don’t be hurt. I don’t see anyone else, baby…” he admitted, rubbing the taut traps, stressed and tight. “You know I fuck around, but I keep my relationships straightforward.”

“Then why does it feel like the lines are completely blurred for us?”

He didn’t have an answer, because he knew you were right.

Rolling away from him, you replied, “Well, I guess that’s that, Rooster.”

He didn’t respond for a long time. The air in the humid room was stifling. “Please don’t leave it like this,” he said finally.

“I can’t take back what I said,” you quietly reminded him, the tears threatening to spill. You were trying so hard not to fall apart while still in his company. “And neither can you.”

He rubbed his tired face, memorising the curve from your shoulder to your hips and left, not much else left to say as your tears spilled freely with the sound of the front door closing.

Ice: Tell him. Tell him before it’s too late.

You did tell him. You did tell Rooster, you wanted to scream. But Ice was wrong.

You’d read the text countless times in the last week. Ice had gotten quite good at texting the last few years, for reasons some found comical, for some (like you) who knew the truth, it was the way he could communicate without too much discomfort.

Hearing a knock a few hours later, you really didn’t want to see anyone. Simpson had suggested you could leave early and you took the opportunity, knowing Rooster was on base and avoiding him would be easier if you simply weren’t there, only for him to text later about an incident involving Bob and Phoenix that he “thought you should know about”. You hadn’t replied. What good would it have done anyway? They were okay, but probably terribly shaken up. You’d have known by now if they had…

But your poor heart had taken enough of a beating the last few weeks, you were at wit’s end and the cavalcade of bullshit that swamped you was just too much. This was peak misery and you had no idea what to do with yourself because of it. The red wine in your palm was doing very little to numb it.

…Ice succumbed to his illness today.

Your friend, Phoenix, had beat death with Bob…

And you were without Rooster. Probably the only person in the world that would understand any of it.

Wandering to the door in your tights and oversized Navy tee, you were and weren’t surprised to see him standing before you. He stepped in to hold you without question and every tear that you'd bitten back to that moment just erupted. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn't speak, and all Rooster could do was hold you, restrain you, protect you.

“It’s okay, I got you,” he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, rubbing circles on your back. “I’m here.”

He’d never seen you like this. Never known you to grieve; it broke his heart that you were going through this. You’d worked closely with Ice for many years, and he’d known him since he was a babe in arms. Ice had been there for him all his life.

“Are Nat and Bob okay?” you demanded, barely able to get the words out through sobs.

“They’re okay,” he said. “They will stay in hospital tonight, but they will be fine,” he tried to reassure you. “They wanted to know that you were okay, you know… because of Ice.”

“I just can’t believe he’s gone.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know it hurts,” he said into your hair. It felt so good to be in his arms, all things considered. “It’s okay,” he said softly.

Laughing in spite of yourself, you replied, “No, nothing is okay, Bradley.”

He sighed and didn’t answer, he just held you tighter.

“You have to go,” you told him gently, but didn’t pull away.

“Please don’t make me – ” he protested.

“Please,” you cut in quietly.

“I don’t want you to be alone,” he tried.

“I need to be. For me,” you told him, pushing him back to arm’s length. “I’m sorry, Rooster,” you took a step back as he reached for you again. You held your hands up, telling him not to try and touch you again. “Please, you’ve got other things to focus on right now,” you quietly reminded him. He needed to see reason too.

He pursed his lips together. “Everything else can wait.”

“I’m not an idiot. I know you’re here for a reason, Rooster. The whole team is. It’s bigger than all of you and I can’t distract you from it.”

While he knew you were told only what you needed to hear, you would have no idea that he was probably on a one-way ticket to his grave, this mission, unlike anything he’d ever prepared for before. He didn’t need to burden you with that; he felt lucky he didn’t have to burden anyone with that. He sighed. “You’re right. I need my focus,” he swallowed, but thankfully remained silent. Something was on his mind, but he remained quiet, gave a gentle wave and left you again.

Rubbing your face and looking at the wine bottle, it only seemed fair to drown your sorrows. It wouldn’t hurt to not hurt for a night.

Standing respectfully with your work associates a few days later, you said your final goodbyes to Ice and as he watched you from across the field, you said your goodbyes to Rooster too. He looked so empty, staring back at you in his dress blues. He didn’t keep his eyes from you and behind your sunglasses, it would be a lie to say you couldn’t keep your eyes off him either. It made everything just that little bit more devastating.

You didn’t talk after the procession. The squad was due back on base and you had taken the rest of the day to go to attend the wake and pass along your condolences to Ice’s dear wife, Sarah, and their family, in person.

Natasha gave you a simple wave as she followed them out solemnly. You waved back and that was that.

“I wasn’t going to come, but it all happened so much faster than we expected. We ship out before sunrise. The mission parameters have changed and brought forward a week,” Rooster spat out quietly at your doorstep in his dress whites, this new information unbeknownst to you. He held his cover under his arm. You didn't know what had changed from the time you left work to now for such a drastic escalation, but you didn’t know much about this mission aside from small bits and bobs of its urgency.

You sighed and reached for him, and he collapsed into your arms. For all the posturing and ego, Rooster was simply Bradley Bradshaw. And sometimes he got scared too. Just like you were for him. He let you hold him, cradling his face as you kissed his hair. “Come inside,” you reached for his palm and led him into the apartment. You knew he had no one else and if just for those few moments, you know you were strong enough to try and give him any kind of hope he needed and deserved.

It starts innocently enough as you reach to kiss him. Rooster was understandably confused; he didn’t think you wanted this anymore after he’d hurt you so badly. He doesn’t kiss you back immediately, his eyes wide but it doesn’t take him long to meld his lips with yours and you know he’s more than a willing participant as he sinks frenziedly into the kiss. You start on the buttons of his jacket and slip it off his shoulders, knowing it couldn’t be treated with the same disrespect your clothes usually were in these circumstances, so you fold it gently over your arm and start on his shirt.

It was the only thing that felt right.

“You said you couldn’t do this anymore,” he muttered, bewildered.

Holding his face, you told him, “Bradley… I’m always going to want this.”

“I know I hurt you,” his eyes soft, his voice softer. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Dragging your fingers down his chest, you lead him by the mouth to your bedroom and he made a sound in his throat that you’re not sure if it’s a moan of pleasure or pain, but you refused to break it as you move your hands for his belt buckle and ease down the zip. He was hard in your soft touch.

“And I forgive you. This isn’t about that, Rooster,” you pushed the waist of his slacks to his knees as he kicked away his boots, your arms filled with his whites. He watched you place his uniform delicate with care on the chair near your window and come back to him as your fingers slid into his waves, mussing them. “Let me take care of you. Show you that you have something good to come home to.”

He nodded and breathed a simple yes, frantic for you.

“This is not just about you, it never was,” you told him, easing him back on the soft mattress and he crashed back willingly. “I love you, you don’t have to say it back, Bradley. But I love you and that’s all I can say.”

Smiling faintly, you tried to ignore the tears in his eyes and wondered how long it’s been since someone has said that to him. He overwhelmed you as he wrapped every fibre of his being around you and you held him tighter.

“I love you,” you whispered and you begged him to believe it as he kissed you, pouring all the emotion he felt into it.

“God, I fucking love you,” he finally confided out loud for the first time. “I’m sorry I’ve never shown it the way you deserved. You’re the best person I know,” he pressed wild kisses into your skin. “No more games.”

“No more games,” you promised. “So, you have to come home to show me.”

He nodded. “I’ll show you every day. Somehow.” He swallowed as you kissed him, the most beautiful smile he’d seen in his life gracing your features as his sorrow faded. “Please let me show you how I feel,” he begged, and you nodded as he hitched you into his arms. “Touch me, don’t be shy,” he demanded. “Tell me you need me,” his messy lips said, sweeping kisses across your face as he sat on the bed, falling back with you sitting on his waist, and pulling the old tee over your head so he could really see you. “I’ve missed this, I’ve missed you,” he admitted. Hard and wanting, he reached for your sides and brought him to you.

“How long do I have you?” you asked, dreading his answer.

“Not long,” he acknowledged. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should have come sooner, but I had to get everything in order,” he explained softly.

You rested your body on his and kissed him deeply. “Well, let’s make it worth it because God knows when the next time will be.”

Slow, tender, passionate. Sure, you’d fucked this way before, but this time, it was so much bigger than the both of you. He told you he loved you and wished he had told you sooner because you’d never made each other feel like this before.

His arms were like a constrictor around you as you lay quietly together a while later.

“Are you on the squad?”

“Dunno. Mav will probably not pick me out of spite,” he murmured, a hint of disdain in his voice. “It’s a strong team though.”

“It’s perfectly fine with me if he doesn’t pick you,” you told him, kissing his rib. Rooster hummed in reply, it was neither positive nor negative. He was surely rattled, something about this truly scared him.

“I’ve done so many dangerous runs before,” he said finally. “But nothing has prepared me for this.”

“Rooster, are they expecting you to not come home?” you looked up at him as he gave you the slightest shrug.

“None of us, even Mav, has flown a mission like this,” he sat up and guided you to sit before him. “I’m terrified I’m losing everything before I even step out this door,” he held your face in his palms.

“Mav will do everything in his power to keep you all safe. You especially.”

Rooster scoffed, a small smile creeping to his lips. “The damage was done years ago, baby.”

“Maybe you must be the bigger person and swallow your pride. He’s the closest thing you have to a family. You need Mav. Mav needs you.”

He looked at his watch and his face changed again. “I have to go.”

“Okay,” you said, moving aside for him to get out of bed. You watched him collect his gear and put it into some semblance of order. Boxer briefs, socks, slacks, shirt… he turned to face you as his long fingers nimbly did the buttons. He tucked himself in neatly and slid his jacket over his shoulders, fastening it. It was sweet to watch his precision and pride as he presented himself.

“Very handsome,” you gave a weak grin. What an understatement. He was unreal, just like a movie star. He rolled his eyes. “Your hair is a bit wild, but I’ll claim that if anyone asks,” you winked as he chuckled quietly.

“I love you,” he told you, collecting his boots. “Wait for me?” He sat beside you to pull them on and caressed your face. You gave him a dreamy smile that brought a tender smile to his face in return, he traced your lips with his thumb. “Beautiful.”

“Hurry back to me,” you pleaded as he kissed your forehead, keeping his lips on your skin. “You’d better go.”

He nodded. “Just one more minute,” he breathed, lowering his body to yours and kissing you deeply. “I just have to remember everything about this moment,” his honey eyes searching yours. “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he confided.

“I’ll know. But I’ll be here waiting,,” you told him. He hummed and kissed you again, his forehead resting against yours. “Just be safe.”

“Always.”

You’d received word the detachment team would be returning to North Island later that week for a high-level mission debrief, to collect their belongings and return to their homes, a break earned after success. For the first time, it felt like the stars had aligned for you.

If there was ever a sign it was time to move on, it was right now. Finding the email to Simpson you’d written the day Ice formally retired, you finally added a date and hit send.

Dropping his duffle bag at his feet, Rooster put his hands on his hips. “You lost, sweet thing?”

Adjusting your shades, you shrugged as casually as you could, your heart restless as he was finally home with you again as you rested back on the hood of his beloved Bronco. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he stifled a quiet giggle, rubbing his neck nervously. “Is it true?”

“That I’m regrettably unemployed?” you tested, and he looked so fucking handsome as his toes tapped nervously, waiting impatiently. It was a crime to be so irrationally handsome, you thought. Maybe it was the ocean air, maybe it was the khaki… maybe it was just him.

Your Bradley Bradshaw.

“Everyone’s gonna know.,” he took a step closer to you, cautiously looking over his shoulder. He wasn’t entirely surprised to see his teammates watching on keenly.

“I disclosed everything when I left. They know.”

He took another step and sat his hands on your hips, gripping tightly in his anxiousness, so desperate to kiss you. The audience around you was growing fast, the show for free of what everyone knew but never disclosed… Top Gun’s worst kept secret. “How’d Cyclone take it?”

“Well… he knew too,” you said simply.

“What?” Rooster chuckled in disbelief. “How?”

You pointed up to the clouds, the sun setting behind them at Golden Hour.

“Goddamn it, Ice.” Rooster pulled his sunglasses from his eyes, and you mimicked him, smiling widely.

You traced the scrape on his cheek. “Please don’t tell me.”

“Well, I have to now,” he said sweetly. “You can’t go looking through my confidential and redacted files anymore.”

“You think I had that clearance? Oh, you sweet manchild,” you laughed loudly. “You’re right. You poor bastard. You’re going to have to, fuck... Communicate.”

“Shut your mouth and kiss me,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you said pensively before his lips touched yours.

“I’ll tell you everything I can,” he promised as Maverick patted Rooster’s shoulder and smiled fondly at you.

“And that?”

“That’s…” Rooster began, exhaling. “Work in progress. It’ll take some time, but it’s better. Now kiss me like no one is watching,” he demanded, lifting you to sit on the hood like it was nothing and stepping between your spread legs, the tease of his words causing a bubble of humour to catch you. “Or kiss me like everyone is.” His mouth softly touched yours, the hair on his lip tickling you and you’d missed it desperately. A distinctive whoop from Phoenix could be heard. His kiss, his body, his possession. “You didn’t have to quit, you know?” he said softly.

“It was time,” you told him, resting your palms on his strong chest. “The Navy needs you. I can do what I do anywhere. Cali…”

“Virginia,” he corrected.

“California,” you corrected in a whisper. “The transfer came through. That was what sealed my resignation. Looks like you’re going to be sticking around,” you goaded him as he laughed against your lips, pulling you flush against him and kissing you deeply.

“Maybe I just couch surf until you get sick of me?”

“I could never get sick of you,” you swore against his lips as he beamed and kissed you again. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Show me the way home, honey…”

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

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