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vetteltea · 5 months

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Daniel Ricciardo and Trying to get a Family Photo [no warnings]

Day 12 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

Note: This one was such a pleasure and so, so fun to write and it is solely dedicated to my soulmate, @a-distantdreamer. It is a genuine pleasure to speak to you every single day; thank you for having a whole notion board with me, dedicated to Danny Ric, Baby Badger & Bingo. I love you so, so much.

The sand of the beach felt warm underneath your feet, the Australian sun dancing across your features. Christmas cards were portrayed with layers of snow across quaint little villages, a stark contrast to the scenery which you were currently standing in.

It had been a whirlwind choice to attend the holidays alongside the Ricciardo clan; having barely been dating four months, official for two and public to the world for zero, your stomach had originally dropped at the idea of being so far away from home for Christmas, instead surrounded by faces you had only briefly interacted with over a FaceTime call.

Daniel would never have forced you to come, hands cradling either side of your face and dark eyes boring into yours, making you promise him you were okay with coming home for the holidays. He knew the risks; even though his parents were adamant you were such a lovely girl and were crawling the walls more than him to meet you, it meant traveling the world publicly; the followers were far from stupid, the moment they saw a beautiful young girl stood alongside him, everything would fall into place.

Standing on the soft grains of Leighton Beach now, you couldn’t understand why you had been so nervous; Grace’s arms had pulled you so tightly into her chest when arriving to the family home, Issac tugging at your arm, insisting he had to show you his new bed because ‘Uncle Daniel had already seen it!’

You’d found out on Christmas Eve, whilst Joe was packing up one of the people-carriers, that it was a Ricciardo tradition to spend Christmas Day on the beach, with presents in the evening and tender kisses when Michelle and the children traveled to be with her husband’s family on Boxing Day. You’d been quick to jump up and assist with packing up the car, the patriarch of the family passing a loving comment that you had slotted into the family perfectly already.

The fact was only highlighted further when you had been curled underneath a blanket alongside Daniel later on in the family room, glasses of wine held by most whilst you listened intently to the stories they felt you had to know.

Come Christmas Day, the sun was glowing across the horizon, Daniel’s fingers had barely unlaced from yours, his family knowing he had never been this smitten from his previous partners and they could not seem to find a single fault with the wonderful girl he had brought home as his partner.

“Everybody stay put!” Daniel’s voice had struck you from the traces of memory you had from the past four days. He stood further up the beach than the rest of you, attempting to set his camera up on a makeshift tripod, determined that after last years’ lack of a family photo, he would make up for it now.

He’d planned it oh-so-meticulously; Grace and Joe stood in the middle, their new puppy that his father had gifted his mother sat at their feet. Michelle stood on one side, her husband’s arm wrapped around her waist. Issac and Isabelle stood either side of the new puppy, fighting every will they had not to bend down and cuddle the new family member.

You had stood just out of frame, unsure of whether it was overly pushy to place yourself alongside the family; after all, it had only been a few months, the relationship wasn’t even public to the rest of the world. If Daniel had the desire to post this to the public, it would open an entire new world for you. Besides, even if your heart melted at the idea of being nestled into the family, there was no way-

“Timer is set! We’ve got ten seconds!”

Your head snaps upwards, seeing a mass of dark curls and a gaudy Christmas shirt, identical to his father, nephew and brother-in-law sprint at you. A tanned hand snatches at your wrist, pulling you clumsily across the grains of sand and slipping into the gap on the opposite side of his sister. Daniel barely has time to adjust himself, wrapping both of his arms around you tucking you neatly underneath his chin, his grin sparkling as the shutter snaps, both of you smiling as if your childhood-self had found a room stocked with an infinite supply of candy.

The moment after the photo is taken, the children are chasing after the puppy, Grace turning to Michelle to continue their previous conversation. Daniel’s hands are hesitant to unwrap from your frame, instead opting to look down, seeing your widened eyes and mouth slightly open. A look of concern laces across his face, one hand gently reaching down to trail against your cheekbone, taking in your appearance.

“All good?” He cradles you closer, brushing the hair out of your face oh-so-delicately. “I didn’t…you’re all good, yeah?”

“Yeah-” You’re quick to respond. “I just…I didn’t think you’d want me in with…y’know, the family photo-”

There’s zero chance of you finishing your sentence when your boyfriend leans in, pressing a hard kiss against your lips, almost as if he could convey everything he had felt for so long into one action. He’d never believed when his mother had told him he would know. That feeling never came with the previous girls he had bought home. It had lingered when he first set eyes on you, and now stuck like adhesive when you had slept in his arms for the first time.

When he pulls away, his tanned forehead rests against your own, content as your breathing patterns synchronize, his grin returning, voice low; his next sentence is to be treasured by you, and you alone.

“You are family.” He murmurs. “You’re my family.”

There’s no words that can fall from your lips, instead letting him pull you back into his chest, feeling him press a butterfly kiss to the top of your head, both of you tilting your gaze when seeing the two children sprint into the sea after the new puppy, his sister beckoning you over to come and look at something, Joe patting a hand onto his son’s back. Only 365 days until the next Christmas with your family.

#Daniel Ricciardo #DR3 #Daniel Ricciardo x Reader #Daniel Ricciardo Imagine #Daniel Ricciardo One Shot #Daniel Ricciardo x You #Reader Insert #F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Daniel Ricciardo Blurb #Daniel Ricciardo x Y/N

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ollie-lolly · 1 year

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Mind if I send another baby request (because I love the idea of these men with precious beans)? How would the Brothers/Dateables be if they had babies of their own? I just wanna know what kinda fathers all of them would be!💗💖

Thank you for the request! <3

Them as dads

warnings: none!

reblogs are appreciated!

Lucifer

-Will do that thing where he'll place the little ones feet on his, and hold their hands to help the baby learn to walk. TvT

-We now know that Lucifer is at least 10 million years old soooo.

-"He is more than daddy to me, he is like, he's like grandpa."

-Lets just say after being a mom dad to six he is desperately waiting for the baby stage to be over.

-He does not want to handle the little one too roughly, like with his more resilient brothers. So please help him out.

Mammon

-I can see him in front of a white board trying to explain the stock market and the baby is just there like :)

-He is super proud of his little one.

-He just holds his baby above his head sometimes like >:D

-I can see him buying a smaller version of his sunglasses and putting it on the baby.

-He uses the baby stroller as a place to store stolen things.

Leviathan

-Will take tons of pictures of the baby of any little cosplays he can find.

-Would use his tail like a baby carrier.

-I can see him holding the baby so they can see his figurines and he would go on and on who they are, from what show etc.

-Will watch childrens anime with the baby.

-Is scared for his life during the whole experience. So please try to keep calm, because he sure won't.

Satan

-Loves tucking it in bed.

-Please help him when his patience wears thin.

-Will bounce the baby on his lap while he is reading.

-Probably named the baby after a character in a book he liked.

-Will attempt to teach the baby complex topics, the baby has no idea what he is talking about but keeps listening anyway.

Asmodeus

-Will want to be around it 24/7.

-Will have tons of nicknames for the little one.

-Wants to dress it in so many outfits. ♡

-Customized and patterned diapers.

-Wine dad with Lucifer.

-Will often talk about his new dad life on social media.

Beelzebub

-Will have the little one on his shoulder at all times.

-Please be with him when he feeds the baby, because what is stopping him from eating the baby food.

-Looks really intimidating when he picks the little one up from daycare.

-Will gently use it as a weight when exercising.

Belphegor

-Will want to sleep with it for hours.

-It is so bad to the point that he has trouble falling asleep without his precious baby.

-He loves how warm the baby is.

-He has the little bassinet hanging above your shared bed, so he can check on the baby anytime.

-Beel essentially takes care of it with him.

Diavolo

-Will have a baby carrier on 24/7

-He will be walking in the halls of RAD and the baby is just: :D

-Will gain a lot of popularity with students because of the happy baby.

-The baby will most likely inherit Diavolo's adorable smile.

-Would spoil it with the most expensive gifts much to Barbatos' dismay.

Barbatos

-Will take time off to love and appreciate the little one.

-Handles the worst parts of babyhood great.

-Would love to teach you the techniques regarding childcare.

-Diavolo would beg Barbatos often to bring his butler's baby to work.

Simeon

-Somehow always knows why the baby is crying.

-Will insist on you resting while he takes care of the baby.

-Looks so angelic when he holds the baby.

-Simeon is always smiling when he gets to be with his baby.

-Luke loves to take care of the baby with him.

Solomon

-Will dress it in a wizard costume and post "My new apprentice"

-Please don't let him feed it.

-He does not realize how dangerous his house is.

-Next thing you know, the baby has his hands on a wand and almost destroys Solomon's house.

-Lets just say there needed to be A LOT of baby proofing.

-In the meantime, Solomon had to use a spell to make the baby float.

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callsignangel · 1 year

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domestic life w/ baby daddy! neteyam x a metkayina! mate - part two

warnings: fluff, neteyam being a great dad <3 in this series neteyam is about 24/25 (so, an ADULT) which i forgot to mention in my first post. if you're concerned or confused, please reference my statement regarding this series here. requested by anon <3 ↳ “i need more baby daddy neteyam but with a son. like maybe he admires how close his wife and son are yk mother-son bond,”

i’m not super happy w/ these but i hope y’all enjoy regardless <3

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

neteyam had 3 other siblings growing up and he wanted the same for your daughter, so naturally you have more children together because the more the merrier

your second child was a son

fun fact, your daughter has 4 fingers like neytiri, but your son came out with 5 like jake. neteyam is thrilled that both of his kids are healthy and have these connections to his parents

but most importantly, they both remind him of you and how amazing and strong you are

neteyam still wears his baby carrier while he’s doing housework or cooking just so he can have his son close

your daughter’s first word was dada (not surprising)

he would watch you with both kids, telling your daughter stories of metkayina warriors before bed and singing na’vi lullabies to your son

he loves the bond you have with your kids. you teach them the importance of being a strong warrior and being fierce, but also to be kind and help those around you. to protect pandora and it’s wildlife, the oceans and the forest and to have a deep connection with eywa.

his daughter tends to gravitate towards him, but your son is a complete mama's boy. just the sweetest big happy family

now that your daughter is older, she likes to sleep with you guys in your bed

sometimes he’ll wake up in the night and he’ll see you with the baby

it makes his heart swell watching you softly sing to him and rock him back and forth

you guys take turns waking up to care for the crying baby. sometimes he sleeps through it, but there’ll be moments where you get up to go but neteyam’s already there

he cradles that little boy in his arms and this man ALWAYS makes sure he supports their neck/heads

he’s bouncing him softly and humming to lull him back to sleep

he carves out toys for his kids from driftwood found on the beaches of awa’atlu

threatens to take away said toys when your kids get fussy about eating their vegetables

neteyam is a frequent napper now, you’ll always find your baby boy on his chest and your baby girl cuddled up on his side - all sound asleep.

they both grow up way too fast but he wouldn’t have it any other way. he’s glad you stayed by his side through it all and that you’ve blessed him with two gorgeous children

we love baby daddy neteyam <3

extra:

kiri is the spiritual crystal loving wine aunt

lo'ak is the funcle

tuktirey is the cool aunt who'll colour with them but also sneak them alcohol

jake is the military grandpa who start's every sentence with "back in my day," or "back where i come from," and falls asleep everywhere all the time, gives unsolicited parenting advice lol

neytiri is the one who spoils all of her grandchildren the most, always has cute little gifts for them and brings them candy

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notroosterbradshaw · 11 months

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There are too many good prompts on the 100 kisses lists! But #10: surprise kisses, your lover wasn’t prepared but responds immediately and #75: standing on your tippy toes, frustrated you can’t reach your lovers lips seem particularly fluffy!

PROMPT: 10. surprise kisses, your lover wasn’t prepared but responds immediately and 75: standing on your tippy toes, frustrated you can’t reach your lovers lips

thank you for this, love. I'm going to try and make this a twofer!

“So, we’re just staying in?” you asked, a little surprised, a little disappointed. It was his first night stateside; it was usually a night to celebrate and unwind with a few drinks with friends. You sat on the bathroom vanity, with him between your thighs, fresh after a shower and washing months of aircraft carrier off him.

He was shaving, and you were watching him keenly, you always enjoyed being part of this process. His delicate hands took control against his soft skin. He asked each time if you'd like to help. Each time you said no. You wouldn't be responsible for marring his incredibly handsome face. You had enough drama with your ankles each time you shaved your legs. His razor was safer in his skilled grasp.

He'd just gotten home only a few hours earlier and it felt like he'd been away for years (reality? Three long, insidious months). When he was away you didn't feel like going out and socialising, happier in your isolation where you could pine for him without the mockery of your friends.

“You seem a little too disappointed by this,” Rooster smirked at you as he moved his torso to the side to stare at himself and shave underneath his chin. You hooked your ankles around his hips, he huffed, shuffling closer and you shrugged. “Gettin' fresh with me?" he wriggled his dark brows, his lightness at being home making you dizzy. "Me being home not enough for you?”

“We so rarely do couple stuff - can’t we like... go on a date or something?"

“A date?” he pretended to be scandalised and piqued an eyebrow. Oh, he was full of his Dad jokes tonight. “What do you have in mind, sweetheart?”

“I dunno, dinner, drinks? You've been away months."

He hummed, jutting his chin and you carefully wrapped your hands around his strong waist, fingers drifting up and down the ropey, hard muscle into his chesy, leaving a single peck on his sternum. "Damn, you did miss me, didn't you?" he teased and flexed just for you and you may have melted, pathetic to his strength. “So, you want some romance,” he figured. “Want me to wine and dine you? I geddit."

You grinned. “That’s exactly what I want," your nails tracing his ribs. He groaned quietly, loved being loved on by you.

"One sec," he said, rinsing his face as you gently pat his now smooth skin with the hand towel, moustache manicured to perfection. Five o'clock shadow banished, he pressed pecks into your cheeks then kissed you deeply. "Better?"

"Grow me a beard," you teased as he chuckled.

"Was hard enough growing this," he admitted pouting to show off his masterful barbering and helping you off the bench. He gazed down at you, a faint smile dancing on his lips. "So you want dinner and drinks, huh? Okay, well I guess I can do that."

"Really?" you asked excitedly, and for a moment he had to wonder if he'd forgotten that romantic side to him. Dates, flowers, champagne and chocolates. You were just so much more excited than he expected. He pressed an unsuspecting kiss on your lips, catching your attention and you smiled wide at him, adoring the affection after months without.

"Go," he swatted at your ass. "Put on your favourite dress and I'll go find a reservation somewhere.

"Yes," you fist-bumped him, craning your neck to kiss him again. He raised an eyebrow, not immediately bowing to you as you bounced on your tippy toes, clutched his dog tags and brought his mouth to yours, moustache freshly clipped and likely to leave you with some irritation later. Wrapping you arms around his neck, he learned down to you, gentle sweeping kisses suddenly moving into hot and messy territory and suddenly, just maybe, you thought you weren't gonna make it out at all.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

#notroosterbradshaw #rooster fic #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #writing prompts #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster fluff #rooster

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thedeathdoctor · 1 year

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“Tell me who did this to you”

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Wordcount: 1k

Summary: You are on a recon mission when everything goes sideways. One of your teammates comes and saves you.

Warnings: Blood? Gore?

A/N: This isn’t proofread in any way and my laptop shut itself down 2 or three times while writing so I continued it on my phone too. So I’m sorry if the pacing is weird but I’m impatient about writing for this man and there was supposed to be smut here but all I do is write exposition I just need to write some damn PWP but my brain needs my fantasies to be exhaustively researched/realistic or it ruins my immersion like come on, just write down all the thoughts about being wrecked by a big masked man its so easy. So to say there will be a part 2 with smut but its 5am and I need to sleep.

You float in a tomb of white hot silence. The first thing seeping in is the ringing, a screaming, ceaseless pain in your ears that banishes all thoughts from your head. Cracking open your eyes, you are greeted with the sight of the torn fatigues covering your mangled legs.

“Huh,” you thought dumbly, “I don’t think they should be bent like that.” Deep red blood spilled out of a tear in the fabric; investigating it revealed a gash so deep located about midway up the inside of your thigh. For a moment, you stared at it with the detachment of observing a punctured wine bag before beginning to return back inside your body which certainly was losing blood alarmingly.

Pressure. Apply pressure. Follow the training.

The pack you carried now lay a few feet away, the blast knocking it away from where you’d set it down nearby. Your legs were certainly not working and the distance between you and the med kit you carried had been filled with a veritable minefield of shrapnel and debris.

But you had eyes on it.

In your attempt to manually haul one leg over the other, you discovered your broken left wrist as your hand struggled to lift your thigh without the other’s help. Your chest hit the ground hard, knocking the air out of you as you rearranged your body into a crawling position. You couldn’t give in so easily. The team had to know what happened.

Inch by agonizing inch, you pulled yourself forward towards your pack on bloody forearms. Thankfully, your plate carrier protected much of your chest, but your arms sustained more damage from the jagged ground. From the floor, the distance expanded into miles, disregarding linear space. Breathing grew damn near impossible as your lungs began to feel as useful as a wet paper bag lodged in your chest. Thick, viscous congestion pooled in the back of your throat, and the attempt of hacking it up just made your chest seize violently in pain. The glob of mucus, aided by gravity, slid slowly over the back of your tongue until you could attempt to spit, the concerning amount of blood mixed in with the saliva taking you by surprise. You didn’t want to think about the implications of that, but your leg still had the higher priority by the way it was leaking.

The moment you were able to hook your fingers into the strap and pull the bag close, you were tearing the whole med kit off the velcro, hastily opening it to find the neatly folded CAT-5 tourniquet inside. Your hands shook violently as you pulled the fabric apart from itself until it was taut, wrapped it around the highest part of your thigh you could manage, and threaded the red tab through the buckle. Grasping the tail of the wrap, you grit your teeth and -pulled- as hard as you could manage with your knuckles whitening before fixing it in place. One turn of the windlass pulled a hiss from your teeth, the second had you seeing stars, but you locked it in place. A lone tear fell involuntarily from the corner of your eye.

The stars persisted in your vision, and you activated your SOS beacon. Clutching the radio to your chest, it took all your remaining strength to hold down the talk button. Dear god, you prayed you were still on the correct channel. Your plea for aid bubbled weakly out of your mouth as you called out for the first person you remembered. The radio crackled out a reply, but by now, you were too far away from your body to hear it. A deep and dreamless sleep creeps up and overtakes you.

Flashes of moments interrupt the abyssal eternity you slip in and out of.

A familiar faceless figure, identity obscured by the image of a grinning skull, dark eyes darting frantically in their recessed sockets. Gloved hands roving gently, exploratorily over your body as you are examined for more wounds.

The rhythmic bounce of your chin off of a hard shoulder, one arm hooked under your bicep and another hooked under your knee. You don’t remember there being so many stairs on your way up before.

Blinding sunlight searing into your eyes, dust being whipped around viciously. The thundering whir of an evac helicopter landing, quite close by. A familiar, distinctly accented voice in conversation with unknown ones.

You wake up in an unfamiliar bed. Hell, you had been on active duty for so long that merely waking up in any bed felt unfamiliar. Opening your eyes, you first took in the stark white hospital room you lay in, the smell of sharp antiseptic over the dull baby powder and latex gloves.

You were surprised to see the man resting in the visitors chair, eclipsing it with his massive body.

“Lieutenant?” You croaked, your throat feeling beat to shit.

“Thank fuck. Was worried I’d lost the best damn sniper I’ve ever had, but you still got some fight left in you yet.”

Praise like that was rarely handed out by him, and you certainly did not feel like you’d earned it based on how rough you felt.

Attempting a reassuring smile, you responded. “Takes more than that to put me in the ground, Sir.”

Ghost let out a small chuckle, leaning forward in the chair. His tone grew serious.

"Tell me who did this to you."

“The fucker was tipped off… someone rolled a grenade behind where I was set up… no wonder I didn’t see the car pull up…”

“Mhm.”

You had no idea what he could be thinking, not with his expression hidden behind his mask. You really never knew at any time, the man was a damn enigma.

After a moment of silent contemplation, he rose from the seat, announcing that he needed to speak with Laswell. Before exiting the room, he left you with more words of praise to puzzle over.

“Rest up. You’ve done well, love.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley fanfic #ghost x reader #mw2022 #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2

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amywritesthings · 7 months

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the better strategy. / astarion x tav

summary: After successfully saving Druid Grove, Astarion has one goal in mind: secure his safety. His strategy? Seduce Tav. But what if that plan goes horribly wrong and he falls for his own game? pairing: astarion x tav (female, she/her) word count: 3.9k tags: tiefling party reimagined, act one spoilers, non-sexual intimacy, astarion's pov, allusions to astarion's past, selûne!tav // mature for thematic elements

part two. / masterlist.

PART ONE: THE ATTEMPT

“I can’t help but notice you’re not indulging.”

The minute the conflict within the goblin camp was over, the second the dust settled in the grove and the victory was imminent, Astarion knew precisely the trajectory he would need to take.

Call it his innate instinct — it wouldn’t take many brain cells to understand just who led this group of afflicted tadpole carriers, for better or worse, after such a battle.

At first he assumed Shadowheart would be the one he’d eventually stalk in the daylight, with her mysterious artifact clutched tightly to her chest. The follower of Shar, however, has about as many problems as her braid has sections.

She would not lead this group to triumph.

Lae’zel? Strong, but lacking in people skills.

Karlach? Strong, relatively agreeable, but suffering greatly from her fiery defect.

Wyll? Too many contracts, so little time to absolve them.

Gale? Not a chance in any of the Hells.

Tav, however…

Calm and collected Tav. Skilled and cunning Tav. Diplomatic and equitable Tav.

Brilliant in all shades of red, peppered across her skin in blood spatter — that Tav.

From the beach where he held a knife to her throat all the way to securing a victory for the refugee tieflings at a grove that never deserved her help, he’s watched this elven woman go from a nobody to a savior overnight.

Everyone vies for her attention. Everyone wants her approval.

Even now he witnesses her flutter through the throngs of beggars invading their sleeping space, trying their hands at flattery and praise.

(Incredible, that her ego hasn’t shot to the heavens with the gods and goddesses themselves.)

So when she finally — finally — stops in front of his tent after her lap around the camp, he knows he must catch her attention.

Keep it. Suffocate it.

He holds an empty goblet for the sake of saving face amongst the traveling tieflings, not quite willing to divulge his little secret so willingly to strangers.

Tav stops walking to stand before him when she catches that he's talking to her. “Am I not?" she challenges, holding up her goblet. "I’m drinking.”

“Not as heavily as others,” he quips, blinking his attention to the downtrodden no-name tiefling to his left still going through the motions of war and loss.

Tav’s eyes follow Astarion’s, resting there on the tiefling for a moment. Astarion blinks back to watch her expression soften — empathy.

(He hates it when she does that.)

“No, I suppose not,” she begins to reason. “That being said, I must admit I was not born with an iron stomach like Gale — or given a gifted singing voice like Alfira — or find myself in the mood to expose my talent of strength like Lae’zel.”

He can see it in his peripheral — Wyll and Gale sharing a bottle of wine, discussing the parameters of magic while crowding a most-eager Alfira as her slender fingers strum well-loved strings. Shadowheart sits quietly to the side of Halsin, nodding her head to the steady stream of tunes, and Karlach whoops and hollers as Lae’zel takes down yet another tiefling opponent in a series of arm wrestling matches.

Astarion hums indifferently. “But you were the one who secured the demise of those leaders. They all should grovel at your feet.”

“I recall seeing a fire bolt or two ignite from your hand,” Tav teases, returning her attention to his face. The licks of light from the fire compliments her complexion so well. “It wasn’t an effort finished alone.”

“It was an opportunity for violence,” he reasons. “I wasn’t about to squander it.”

“Is that so?” she asks, seemingly unconvinced by his removed reasons.

“Besides, fighting and swordplay is all well and good, but you were the one to spin the spider’s web to convince that rigid drow to believe we were rallying to her cause,” he tut-tuts with his tongue. “I didn’t think you had it in you to lie.”

After a brief huff, Tav shakes her head. “Not my best strategy.”

Astarion’s brows slide high. “No? I beg to differ.”

“I just needed to buy more time so no one would get hurt,” Tav explains, and Astarion wants to outwardly groan at her heroics. He doesn't. “I had no interest in aligning myself with someone who wanted to bring so much pain. Zevlor led his people well — they ought to be the ones you praise.”

Gods, he really likes her best when she’s focused on battle. Feral, merciless, bold — not whatever this at the end of the fight. She’ll list the damned stray dog for valor before herself.

Still, Astarion catches himself before he can ruin his own performance and sharply inhales. He puts a knowing smile back on his face, voice smooth like tainted honey nectar.

“You could still stand to take a little credit, my sweet,” Astarion replies, “but if you’re not willing to take it, then allow me to personally pay it forward.”

The dance is as old as time itself. Astarion steps from the makeshift rug of his tent, finding himself in the plush earth beneath their feet. The party rages on around them with copious laughter and impromptu music and sloshing ale, but the vampire hears nothing, sees nothing, smells nothing — except her.

And, if he’s calculated correctly, she only sees him.

Jogging up to him after missions to check in on his opinion as if she truly gives a damn. Glancing back when she’s talking to all sorts of lowly creatures as if his opinion means anything to alter her otherwise fortified decisions.

He tries to goad her into the worst possible ideas — no, this person doesn’t need help; no, this idiot can rightfully get fucked for creating their own problems; no, we’re not accepting a mere thank you for payment of our services.

(It’s any wonder she has any gold in her pockets at all.)

Sometimes she listens. Sometimes she’ll demand payment — though, if he had it his way, Astarion would turn these godforsaken degenerates upside-down and shake them stupid until Tav drains them of every last coin for acting like she’s anything but a saint.

Sometimes she stands up for herself, and Astarion can’t help but giggle when these little leeches scramble to reroute back to her good graces.

If he was a lesser man, if he didn’t know better, then the vampire would have an insane thought behind these random acts of acknowledgement: that she values him.

Somehow, in some way, even after he’s managed to violate her trust, her body, her blood — all for his gain.

For his survival.

Now he’ll offer something similar as a sort of payback for her kindness. Unfortunately, his talents are something of a one-trick pony: take a ride, any ride, and he’ll provide the best bloody night of your life. Cazador all but forced it to be a guarantee.

In the end, offering his body to Tav will secure his position in this merry band of misfits.

It will keep him safe — even if he feels the bile rising in his throat as he prepares himself to bite his lip and play coy to her every desire and whim.

(He can prove she’s just as vile as the rest.)

“Pay it forward?” Tav asks as if she doesn’t already know.

“Everyone appears occupied,” he begins, each word dripping with intention. “I can’t imagine they’ll miss us for a spell.”

His crimson eyes find hers, searching for the answer he needs: desire – for him, for stress relief, for a chance to use a willing body to let go.

“There’s a clearing not far from camp,” he purrs, taking yet another step as he ducks his chin to meet her gaze. “You can see the moon brilliantly. And the trees will catch your pretty little cries, so I implore you to be as loud as you’d like.”

Yet he’s met with widening eyes without a single thought behind them. Her lips part, close, then part again. Astarion waits for the telltale signs he’s memorized for the last agonizing two centuries — quickening of breath, dilated eyes, shifting in her stance.

“I promise it will be a night you shall never forget.”

He smirks with haughty confidence, his swagger undoubtedly catching her eye. He won’t touch her , not yet — it’s always best to make the anticipation —

Wait.

There: her eyes widen a fraction larger, lips parting with a sharp inhale.

Then her nose scrunches as if… amused, and he’s lost the script.

The hells?

“Astarion,” she starts.

“Yes, my dear,” he coos, keeping that seductive air about him.

“I don’t…” Tav gives a small smile, apologetic in nature. “I appreciate what you’re offering. Flattered, even, but I’m not someone who…”

Astarion stops moving forward, taken aback by the hesitance in her voice. For someone so headstrong in their decisions within this group, this is the first he’s seen her so… girlish? Up until now, he’s never seen Tav react to anything without conviction.

He senses a running theme between such an annoyance and the unwavering faith of a cleric.

“Am I meant to use our wiggling little friend to complete that thought for you?” Astarion presses, fluttering his fingers parallel to his temple for dramatic emphasis.

Tav sighs, and he hates it. “It’s hard to find the right words.”

“Then we needn’t use them,” he persuades airily. “That’s what bodies are for.”

Gods, she gives this look — and by now, he knows it well. The same knowing stare she gave that wretched little gnome who dared speak ill of her even after his rescue. The same knowing stare she gave Wyll when he threatened to attack their fiery friend.

The game is up.

Astarion feels… cold. Rejected?

He didn’t wish to sleep with her in the first place, but he’s never been outright denied.

“Is the gaudy wizard that eats magic trousers more your type, then?” He flippantly twists the problem away, raising a brow of feigned disinterest. “Or perhaps it’s the bloodthirsty Githyanki who gets off on smelling sweat.”

Tav snorts, rolling her eyes in a way that makes his stomach churn.

Does she think him a joke? Not attractive? Not worthy of sleeping upon her bedroll?

He runs through a list of grievances the cleric may have with him when she finally finishes the lingering thought: “I’m not someone who deals in one-night trysts.”

Tav explains slowly, cautiously, as if trying to spare his feelings. Astarion would be offended if he wasn’t so confused.

“I recognize many of us are seeing these hours as our final to live. Yet I find no comfort or pleasure in sleeping with someone I barely know.”

“But you know me better than most,” Astarion argues under his breath, jutting his chin back. That isn’t entirely a lie — Tav’s has taken the inner workings of his past, his plight, and the monster itself in stride.

Tav is the one to take a step forward this time, her cup half-drunk from the wine Halsin poured. Suddenly another feeling twists in the vampire’s sated gut: surely she’s letting him down gently because she’s interested in that beast of a man.

(The druid is certainly less jagged around the edges, teeth and all.)

“Not well enough for something like that, though,” she replies, her smile light.

Astarion’s brows knit as he considers his options. His usual form of seduction hadn’t worked. Should he spin a story, a web of lies, to make her think she truly knows him? Should he push a little harder, make promises of delight and pleasure, to—

“I’d like to see this clearing you speak of, to see the moon. Connecting with Selûne would be wonderful to experience with you near,” Tav adds, interrupting his inner monologue, “if you’re still willing to show me.”

Oh.

That’s so…

Odd.

Why does he suddenly feel so out of place and odd?

“I…” Astarion has half a mind to wave her off, to say it’s a massive waste of his night when he could get his quota filled by someone else in this camp. Yet he’s compelled to stay, to stare, as he takes in her expression. “...if that is what you wish.”

Is this a game? Play ignorant, then arrive at the clearing for sex?

He can’t read her. He can’t place her smile into any sinister category. It only widens, bright like the moon above, and she brings her goblet to her lips.

The vampire finds himself watching as her neck bobs with the gulp she takes.

“Shall I see you once everyone rests?” Tav asks, suddenly having the upper hand in a situation that was supposed to be his and his alone.

All the vampire can do is nod, sensible not to say anything that will jeopardize the private meeting, and smiles with a strain when she walks away to talk to the tiefling moping on the edges of the camp.

Of course she talks the sad sack into joining the party.

Of course she fucking does.

There’s still a chance she might want him.

All this talk about not wanting to rush things or explore another person could have been for show. She’s the diplomat of this group of imbeciles, lest he forget. She probably couldn’t afford to look interested in him, much less anyone else, so not to cause tension.

No worry — he’ll come prepared, may the cards fall where they must.

Astarion creeps past his tent, shedding his white tunic to hang on a sturdy branch a mere foot’s step away from the clearing in question. His pale skin practically glitters and glistens in the light poking through the treetops, his complexion a stark contrast to the scars and lines of a body that’s only recently belonged to him.

He leaves his trousers on. He’s not a goddamn animal, after all.

“Astarion?” a rushed whisper sounds to his right, so the vampire turns in all his slender glory.

“You came,” he greets, grinning ear to ear with his entendre.

The wood elf stares back at him from a thick cluster of trees, notably confused by the way her brows knit and her nose scrunches. She assesses his vivid nakedness, but doesn’t make a comment — not yet.

Well, she doesn’t particularly look lustful.

Then her attention disappears entirely when she realizes just how clear said clearing is: a damn near perfect circle, where he’s prepared a small blanket held down by sizable rocks he’d found by the river while everyone started heading into their tents for sleep.

To an innocent eye, it’s nothing more than a midnight picnic.

If he had anything to say about it, then it would certainly become that. The only road block is Tav as she nears the makeshift lovebed in the center of the clearing.

“You didn’t have to use your blanket, you know,” she mentions, and Astarion is yet again left sputtering for a suave answer.

How the hells did she know that was his blanket and not that wretched Gale’s?

“It isn’t mine,” he tries — smooth, very smooth.

Tav makes a noise as she sits down on the blanket, head turning as she studies the lack of patterns or love in its weave.

“I saw this in your tent,” she argues without conviction. “Lae’zel hates blankets. Mine are all accounted for. And Gale—”

“Alright, yes, it’s mine,” Astarion interrupts, peeved she’s more interested in playing detective than commenting on his broad chest.

The vampire awkwardly meets her on the blanket, sitting down with his heels dug into the dirt.

His legs stay in a raised triangle, knees to the sky, while Tav sits tall and crosses her legs under one another. Her slender fingers sit in her lap, annoyingly so, and Astarion stares at them to calculate a way he can smoothly bring them into his.

All he needs is to wriggle his way into this bizarre outing, to find what makes her tick, and he’ll be safe. It’s the only word running through his head at lightning speed.

Safe, be safe, make yourself safe—

Her gasp is light, possible to miss, but it takes him right out of the mantra to look up at Tav. Her smile is practically glowing as the moonlight bathes over her body, generous and… beautiful.

“You’re right,” she murmurs. “This is… beautiful, at this time of night.” Tav pauses, searching the constellations. “It’s so hard to pray, really, at camp. I don’t wish to offend Shadowheart.”

“What does Shadowheart’s approval have anything to do with your praying?” the vampire asks, feeling surreal that this is what her pillow talk has started with. Prayer. Religion.

(He’d gotten himself at least somewhat hard at the sight of how pretty she looked in the midnight air, ready to try his hand again, but now it’s all but softened with flattened disinterest.)

“Well, she worships Shar — the twin sister of my goddess, and they are not friendly.”

“So?”

“So,” Tav explains slowly, dipping her chin to observe him at her side. “I don’t wish Shadowheart to see me as an enemy just because of our differences in worship. But now you’ve shown me a place I could visit where I can properly speak to her — so thank you."

Astarion must look perplexed as all hell, because Tav studies his face, his naked torso, then back to his face again. He sits up straighter, unable to hide his annoyance in his rigid movements.

Tav shifts in her seat as well, but before she can continue her soft little chat about useless goddesses and Shadowheart’s temperamental feelings, Astarion clears his throat.

“Do you mean to tell me we are really not going to…?”

Tav’s lips purse, and Astarion’s gaze drops to them. They’re plush, soft – they wouldn’t be the worst to kiss. Hells, she looks soft. Her neck was delectable; her blood divine. It wouldn’t be the worst lay of his miserable little life.

“Sex,” he bluntly states, slashing straight through the bush instead of beating around it for the one-hundredth time when Tav doesn’t ask. “Are we not having sex tonight?”

Tav rears her head back, pulling away from him with a lean. “I… thought I already said we weren’t, back at the party��”

“Yes, and playing coy is all well and good, but I know you hold a candle for me, darling.” Astarion gestures around to the nothingness that surrounds the clearing. “No one is here to judge. No one is listening. It’s just us, so if you want—”

“I don’t.”

Talk about a sobering response.

The vampire squints, and finally — finally — Tav raises her chin with what can be considered a glare.

It’s cute, he’ll give her that.

“I already told you that I don’t simply sleep with people to do it.”

“And why not?”

“Because it’s never any good when it’s not with someone you care for, now is it?” Tav replies, exasperated by his poking and prodding. “Is this what all of this is for? The blanket, the… lack of a shirt?”

Astarion leans in. “Was it not obvious to you?”

“I thought you were overheated in the night!” she reasons, the blush on her face creeping up her neck to her cheeks. He sees it. He fixates on it. “I thought you were genuinely being my friend.”

Friend.

Oh, that one stings — he hates that it stings, that somehow he’s disappointed in himself for kicking the hornet’s nest when he had mostly been in her good graces up until now.

“If.. that’s all you wanted from me tonight, Astarion,” the wood elf slowly begins, curbing her temper with each word spoken, “then perhaps it’s best I leave—”

“No.”

Before he realizes it, the vampire grabs ahold of her free hand to stop her from pushing to her feet. His pale hand cages her wrist in, anchoring her to this shared spot, and he feels… well, not great.

But he can’t screw this up.

He cannot, under any circumstances, have her hate him.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology feels disgusting on his tongue, because he doesn’t quite mean it. He means a fraction of it, however, and that’s enough to push a genuine tone in his voice.

“Please, just… sit with me, then.”

He continues to hold her wrist, taking it as a good sign that Tav hasn’t ripped it from his grasp yet. That, or she’s just giving him the nicety treatment she gives to all of her companions.

Slowly the woman lowers back to the blanket, and he realizes a beat too late that she’s turned her palm to face his.

What?

Tav sighs heavily and turns their hands with a delicacy that feels too sacred for an undead such as himself. Astarion’s palm faces the mercy of the moon when his long fingers, one sinful digit at a time, let go of her wrist.

She doesn’t move away.

“Intimacy is a gift so many people crave,” she begins softly. “I know I do. I know all of us do. It’s why we choose to stay together.”

“The bloody tadpoles in our heads are what keep us together,” Astarion flatly argues, but his voice is tighter as her fingers draw against the life line of his palm.

She huffs with a laugh. “That, too.”

She sits her fingertips atop his palm, hovering. A lump forms in his throat.

“I like when physical intimacy is just that — intimate. That’s not to say Lae’zel’s views or your own are wrong, but… just isn’t how it works for me.”

Astarion is immobile. Lost, quite frankly, in the sensation that’s so little yet feels like it could move mountains.

He’s terrified to breathe, to think, as she continues to press her hand gently to his.

“For me?” she continues. “This — knowing you have my back, and I have yours? That you sit here in front of my goddess and allow me a moment to think — that is intimacy.”

He exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, before raising a defeated brow. “And this is pleasurable, for you?”

“Is it not for you?” she returns straight back like a rapid-fire arrow to the gut.

The vampire doesn’t know how to answer that. Yes, this feels… nice, but it also feels wrong. Like he’s holding a lamb before the slaughter.

She is too trusting.

This world, as horrific as it is, will swallow her whole. He will swallow her in a singular gulp, right down the gullet, before she can process his inevitable betrayal.

Yet what does that say about him — holding her hand, allowing her to manipulate his palm at will, in front of a goddess he doesn’t believe in? This is her sanctuary yet he does not burn.

When she returns her gaze back to the moon with the wonder of a person who doesn’t believe in eternal damnation for merely existing, Astarion cannot help but stare.

Not at the moon, no.

At her.

Astarion’s fingers experimentally curl around hers, testing the boundary.

He notices the way she smiles not long after.

It takes a second too late to realize that he is smiling, too.

Well — shit.

#baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #amywritesthings #the better strategy #baldurs gate 3 fic #baldurs gate fanfic #baldurs gate fic

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lilykatelyn-blog · 7 months

Text

𝓓𝓪𝔂 8 - 𝓑.𝓒 - LILY’S KINKTOBER

Pairing: DomPrince!BangChan x SubFutureWife!Reader

Genre: Smut, little bit of fluff

theme: begging

warnings: D/S dynamics, begging (duh), blowjob, bondage, penetrative sex, safe sex, hair pulling, hard dom Channie, spanking, jealousy, arranged marriage au, breeding kink.

Your engagement party could not have been more perfect. Chan and you had gotten specific decorations for it and it looked truly out of a dream. You had about 150 guests and 3 hours to get through all of them, what a fun task! Chan had been nothing but a sweetheart since your parents had set you guys up for marriage, having been friends as kids, it wasn’t hard to get used to the idea of living with him forever. “Y/N! Hyung!” His selected best man and closest friend, Minho, had come up to you two. He gave your hand a kiss and greeting and a giant bear hug to Chan, making all of you chuckle. “Congrats! I heard that Changbin made it! You should go find him, if it’s okay with Y/N of course.” He gave you pleading eyes, making you laugh a bit and nod your head. “Go on, I’ll try to get through some of the guests.” You gave Chan a kiss on the cheek, heading over to your maid of honor to be, Yunjin, grabbing a glass of wine and laughing with her as people joined the conversation. “So how’d you two meet?” Heeseung asked, looking genuinely intrigued. “It’s complicated, I’ll tell the story at the wedding.” Getting many boos and complaints from the group. “Ah, well I’m afraid I should go, my mum’s sick. Best of wishes, and I’ll see you soon!” Heeseung hugged you, giving you a kiss on the cheek, as you two used to when you were kids. “Bye! Wish her well Hee!” You laughed to him as Yunjin made a joke. Unbeknownst to you, a certain spectator was getting jealous of your interaction with Heeseung.

“..and he- Hyung? You okay?” Han got cut off as he saw Chan staring off to where you were with Heeseung, just as you kissed him on the cheek. All 7 of the boys turned around, the maknae’s oohing and hyunjin and minho disguising laughs as coughs. “You’re jealous, mate? Chill, all she talks about is you and her love for you, man. You’re fine.” Felix laughed at his Hyung’s death stare. “But- did you see her? She-she kissed him on the cheek, she only does that to me. She’s never done it to anyone else.” At this point he was just about to break his glass with how hard he was gripping it. “And we’re done with the beer..” Han took the glass hesitantly out of Chan’s hand, not wanting to cause a scene. “I’m sure it’s an inside thing, don’t worry Hyung. You only have about 30 minutes before people start piling out. Just chill for now, talk to her about it later.” Minho softly told him, patting him on the back before getting into conversation with Changbin. “Anyways, mate. What were you saying about how carrier pigeons are liable or some shit?” Chan immediately turned to the conversation that Felix and Han were having, joining in on the nonsense. Trying to get rid of the annoying bubbling feeling inside of his gut. After the happy couple bid their goodbyes to everyone, they said goodbye to the staff and walked up to their room. “So, did you have fun today?” You asked in a hushed tone, taking off your earrings and getting into your sleeping gown. “Mm, talked to Changbin and the boys. What about you?” He asked, still in a bitter mood as he got dressed into his sleeping attire. As you talked about how you talked to Yunjin and your friends, he came up behind you while you were cleaning your makeup at the vanity, hugging your waist. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You asked Chan, softly ruffling his hair as you cleaned up your makeup wipes and stuff. “Nothing, just got a bit jealous at seeing you and Heeseung today.” He murmured, looking down from embarrassment. He knew you two were friends, but he was still insecure, despite being a very powerful person. “We’re just friends, don’t worry. Plus, he doesn’t get to see me like this, hmm?” You told him, turning around and putting your arms around his neck. “I guess you’re right about that.” He whispered, giving you a kiss, deepening it ever so slightly. “Of course I am, now that we’re getting married, you should know I’m always right.” You murmured playfully against his lips, making him laugh a bit. He only deepened the kiss, pressing you against your vanity, at this point, your head was spinning. “Hate to interrupt this wonderful make out session, but let’s move this to the bed, yeah?” You asked, pulling away, and walking away from a very whiny Channie.

As soon as you sat on the bed, he jumped on top of you, going down your jaw to your neck and to your cleavage. “Man, I have to thank our parents for this arrangement, you’re fucking all I need.” He moaned, ravaging you. “Chris, as much as I love this, please get rid of the clothes.” You begged, tugging on his hair. He sat up, patting his lap. “Over my lap, it’ll be quick.” “But why?” You whined, “I didn’t do anything wrong-“ “you made me jealous love, now over my lap.” You verbally protested, but still complied, getting over his lap. “I’ll make it quick, all you have to do is just count love.” He made it sound oh so easy, when in fact it was terribly difficult. “..7, fuck! 8- shit! Chris, honey, I’m- FUCK!” He delivered a harsh slap, making your senses go haywire. “I didn’t hear a 9, babygirl.” He uttered oddly calmly. “Should we start over?” “No! Ni-nine!” You counted, frantically grabbing on something. “Last one, babygirl.” This was the hardest, way harder than the others. “TEN!” You screamed while he soothed the area, also wiping any tears on your face. “Good girl, but you’re still not done.” “W-what?” You asked, still calming down, he fixed you upright in your position. “You’re going to suck my cock, then if you make me cum hard, I’ll consider fucking you. ‘Kay?” He said the last part so sweetly that it could have fooled you that it was genuine. He got you on your knees, pulling down his pants, and releasing his cock. You slowly kissed down his large length, licking his slit, gathering some precum and using it as lube. Slowly taking his head in your mouth, you underestimated just how hard it would be to get all of his length in your mouth, though having done it before, it was still difficult. Once you got to the hilt, you slowly started bobbing you head, getting soft moans from him. Deciding to up your game and make him cum, you swirled your tongue around the head whenever you got to it, bobbing up and down faster and faster. “Fuck, I’m close. You’re gonna swallow my entire load, got it?” You hummed around his cock to confirm, making him throw his head back from the pleasure of the vibrations. Releasing in your mouth, you did exactly what he told you to and showed him the proof that you did. “Good girl, now you’re gonna beg for me to fuck you, yeah?” You knew it was a rhetorical question as soon as he slammed you face down onto the mattress. “Beg.” One simple command released all of the pleas from your mouth. “Please, please, please fuck me Chris. Please, need your cock inside me, fill me up, please!” You begged, your words turning incoherent as he lined up with your entrance. “Good girl, relax for me now, okay?” Pushing into you, he had to hold himself back so he didn’t ram into you. Starting slow, he got a steady pace, only speeding up when your moans got louder. He couldn’t hold back more and flipped you over, re entering you and holding your knee up to your chest he started fucking into you faster. Constant thank yous and pleads came out of your mouth, a scream nearly forming when his thumb made contact with your clit. “Go on, cum for me babygirl.” His thumb added pressure, not moving but just enough to tip you over the edge. Your mouth parted in a silent scream, except there was nothing silent about it, your scream would have been heard throughout the castle, had he not shoved his fingers in your mouth to shut you up. Coming with an animalistic grunt, he collapsed on top of you.

“Chris- get offff.” You whined, insisting on cleaning up. “Did I go too hard on you?” He asked softly while looking into your eyes, ignoring your demand. “No, now please get off so that we can properly clean up.” He complied, watching you try to walk to the washroom. “I’d love some help here.” Snickering evilly, he picked you up bridal style, giving you a big smooch before drawing a bath for you. This marriage was going to last, you were sure of it.

TAGLIST:

@aaasia111, @hgema, @obeythemasters, @imwithurmother, @unlikelysublimekryptonite, @virluna148, @sanzusfavgf, @ivyisnotokay, @stanskzsstuff, @luvkpopp

#Skz #stray kids #bang chan #Stray kids bang Chan #skz bang chan #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang Chan x reader #bang Chan smut #Chan smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

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witchofthesouls · 2 months

Note

You know that one video of those elephants from a elephant sanctuary that literally run to meat and greet a new orphaned baby elephant?

That’s how I imagine the first meeting between Starscream’s trine and or Soundwave and his cassettes and Megatron’s newborn/young daughter/s went 🥰

Starscream will literally shank anyone else and bury their corpse in the deepest grotto that dared be the first to greet the newsparks outside of Megatron's direct kinship-ties. This is due to Vosian-style of Seekerkin propriety, which has strict guidelines on what is and isn't acceptable within the shifting hierarchy.

Starscream may enact assassination attempts on Megatron, but that can be taken as an extension of his duties since the Decepticon SIC aligns enough to be the most prominent Ring-Wing as it encompasses internal defense of the faction/flock. Newsparks are an immense life-event to Seekerkin. Who is and isn't allowed to interact with them, especially during the initial exchange outside the carrier and sires, is a highly telling social cue to other Seekerkin. Starscream would be absolutely furious if Megatron didn't let him and his trine meet the newspark since keeping them away would cause strife with the other Decepticon Seekerkin and destabilize Starscream's authority among them.

Because Starscream is almost genial as he only done three scathing comments to Megatron, the miner thought the congratulatory Energon-wine from Thundercracker had been poisoned. The blue Seeker holds the newspark with practiced hands as Skywarp vibrates everywhere, crooning at the blind, wiggling infant. Starscream leaves a thoughtful set of training daggers, but Megatron has no idea what to do with the gruesome etchings of distorted faces done by Skywarp...

(The rest of the Air Force are hungrily waiting to start preparations for a very belated baby shower. Megatron will be up to his helmet in gifts.)

Soundwave's cassettes are the ones that actually stampede their way to coo at the newest bitty. Ratbat is enamored that he's no longer the smallest on the ship. Frenzy and Rumble jostle each other and actually have the ball-bearings to comment how tiny she is with Megatron's coding. Laserbeak enjoys a peek-a-boo game by dipping her beak down for the bitty grab, whereas Buzzsaw prefers to clean the infant. Ravage may act cool and collected compared to the rest of them, but Megatron shifts his gaze whenever the cougaraider dips her tail into the cradle-pod to play with his infant daughter.

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sweet-honey-fruit · 2 years

Note

You asked for requests and so I shall deliver! How about Zhongli, Kazuha and childe with an S/O who's a sleepy drunk? Not like, pass out drunk, but definitely dozing off when its quiet enough.

Have fun!

Sleepy Drunk Headcanons

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: drunk reader, alcohol, mentions of drugging and being taken advantage of in Childe’s part but none of that actually happens, talking about murder in Childe’s too cause it’s Childe and that’s what he does best.

Pairings: Zhongli, Kazuha, Childe

Childe

Childe finds it both adorable and downright terrifying

When he first witnessed it, he was about to throw hands

You two were on a minature date at a local bar. This was the first time you both were fully letting loose with one another without the everlasting thought of work

Naturally, you both were drinking away till your livers decided that it’s had enough. Drinking wine and rum mixtures glass after glass, laughing and joking around

He turned his head away from you to ask the bartender for another shot

Then when he turned back, he saw you were slumped over, looking noticeably tired. You were no longer energized and bubbly. No, you looked liked you’ve been awake for a week straight and it finally caught up to you

The look of surprise transferred to concern, then to outrage. His hypervigilant mind jumped to one conclusion: someone must have drugged your drink when he turned away for a few seconds

If it wasn’t for his rational side kicking in and telling him that that’s impossible cause nothing could ever work that fast, he might have killed every patron in that bar excluding you

He decided to call it quits for the night and carried you back home despite your ineffectual protesting

The next morning, after downing water and painkillers, Childe brought up your sudden tiredness

Upon your explanation, he stared before bursting into fits of laughter

“Holy shit, that’s adorable”

Even though he finds it the cutest thing in the world, he never lets you go that far in public

He fears someone might take advantage of you in your drunken-tired state. Not that that would even be possible cause he’ll leave them dead in a dumpster before they even think about it

But it’s better to be safe than sorry

He only lets you drink yourself to drowsiness when you’re in the comfort of y’alls homes

During those times, he’s a mixture of the best company and an annoying piece of shit

“Well, look at that. My precious darling seems to have taken in too much to drink already. Look so tired when it’s only ten o’clock. Aren’t you lucky to have me by your side to take care of you in such a state?”

“Childe- *yawn* shut the fuck up,”

Anywhere else? This man has memorized your tolerance and put in a cut off limit depending on what you’re drinking

Kazuha

The wind has a funny way of bringing two lovers with similarities together, doesn’t it?

He found out about your state after drinking too much the same day he found out about his

Sitting at Diluc’s tavern with Venti and Xinyan, he felt himself starting to doze off with the buzz of the alcohol. When he turned to look at you, he saw you were in a similar state, albeit a tad more alert. He was about to mention something about going back home before he let his head rest on the table and fell asleep there

When you saw your lover passed out, you were already too tired to move

Xinyan offered to take you both home, but you only muttered, “No, no it’s alright, I’ll just..I’ll just sleep on the table-“

Venti only laughed at the comment, feeling his own buzz clouding his senses to the point where he was of no help either

It took both Xinyan and Diluc to carry you two and venti home

Since then, Kazuha has been your designated carrier whenever you indulge in alcohol with the crew members on the Alcor

He himself doesn’t drink, but he doesn’t want to stop your fun if you like it

He’ll always be there to carry you to y’alls rooms when you’re too tired to move your legs

He finds it cute, especially with how your tired and drunken words come out in shambles

You sometimes even talk about the strangest things, in which he finds entertaining

“Kazu-..kazu, what ifs, what if grass was able to..to eat people?”

“Then I would be impossibly more grateful to be on the Alcor.”

Although in the rare times you both drink, someone has to be the person to handle you both

One is passed out and the other doesn’t want to move and just wants to nap on the bench

Usually Beidou is the one to handle you two and she, like always, will never let you two live it down

Zhongli

Genuinely thought it was Venti’s fault you were so tired and drunk till he realized the anemo archon wasn’t even around

Hu Tao had to be the one to knock on his door while you were slumped against her figure, awake but too weary to care about moving, or doing anything for that matter

“I thought that as your director that it was my job to bring your dearest back home safe and sound! Figured you didn’t want her six feet under in a box.”

He just gave her an unamused look before thanking her and bringing you back inside

Now, he’s aware that you have your own free will and can do as you please as long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else

And he also knows that being a tired drunk isn’t harming anyone or you since you rarely drink

But even still, he tries to talk you out of drinking so much that you get too tired to do anything like last time

He just wants you safe. You’re already vulnerable when drunk, but being tired and drunk? Makes him worry even more

He’s always with you when you decide to go out drinking, keeping a hand over yours while lovingly watching you

He’ll ask you to drink water after every drink or so to keep you from getting too drunk too fast

And if you say no? Well, he has a way with words and always manages to convince you

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin men #genshin men x reader #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #kazuha x reader #genshin fluff #childe x reader fluff #zhongli x reader fluff #kazuha x reader fluff #drunk reader

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roosterforme · 1 year

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The Deployment Diaries Part 9 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley would never want to be with someone else during a deployment, and he would expect the same from you.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, adult banter, smut, non-consensual kissing and touching

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! Check my masterlist for the reading order!

You met Chelsea the next day when she dropped lunch off for Josh. She was cute and bubbly and seemed nice, but she was eyeing you warily, even after you'd talked to her for a bit. Maybe she thought Josh was working too many hours, because you were demanding it. But when you mentioned to her that staying late was by no means mandatory, she looked even more uneasy. "She's like that," Josh said later that afternoon. "Always worrying about things." "Well, she is your wife. I mean, I might be concerned with how much you're working if I were her."

Josh eyed you up and down, and it made you feel slightly uncomfortable. "Yeah, that's not what she's worried about. But anyway, we're supposed to go wine tasting this weekend. You should come with us. Sonya and Reggie too." Nothing wrong with a group hang. And Bradley wasn't a huge fan of wine, so this might be something fun you'd never get to do otherwise. "Sure, send me the details." "You staying late today?" he asked you. "Yeah, so is Sonya." Josh's brow pinched into a frown at this information, but he just nodded his head. And when you mentioned the wine tasting to Sonya, she was really excited about it. Josh looked less enthusiastic than he had earlier, even though he was the one who originally mentioned it. He was acting weird now, and you just did not enjoy dealing with moody men. At least Bradley was usually even tempered. It generally took a lot to get him stirred up. -------------------------------------------- A few days later, back on the carrier, Bradley was still thinking about how you had touched yourself and let him watch. He was endlessly horny now, and he just wanted to be home in the worst way. He missed your little routines together. He missed playing with your necklace charms while you snuggled on his chest. He missed telling you about his day and getting your feedback. You made him feel like his ideas and opinions were important. And he missed the way you got nostalgic for stories about his parents, even though you'd never met them. "I'm thinking about going to get my mom's ring as soon as we get back," he told Nat over lunch one day in the cafeteria. "Really?" Nat asked, and her smile looked just like the Cheshire Cat. "I recall you once telling me you tossed that thing in a dusty box. You said you were mad that your mom insisted you keep it for your future wife instead of letting you bury her with it. You told me you were never going to need it, Rooster. And now you're thinking about proposing?" He smiled and shook his head at just how accurate Phoenix's memory was. "Yeah. I've been thinking about it for too long already. I need her, in every fucking way. I really want to make it official." "You think she's ready? You've been dating for, what, seven months?" Bradley nodded his head. This was way longer than he'd ever dated anyone else. "Natasha, you know for a fact I was in love with her about an hour after I met her. That was in August. Now it's May. My heart can't take much more waiting." Then his best friend smiled at him and nodded her head. "She'll say yes. She's a mess over you too, Rooster." ---------------------------------------------- You shot Bradley a quick email detailing your plans to go wine tasting this afternoon. It was Saturday for you, but probably already early Sunday morning for him. He was flying another mission tomorrow, and you were hoping he'd be able to call you or Facetime after that. So when you were about to take Tramp outside before you left, you were surprised to see Bradley had written back to you already. baby girl, have fun, but please be careful. i don't love you going out with people i don't know with alcohol involved. i love you You rolled your eyes. In the last email he sent you, he asked you if you thought Josh had ulterior motives when he worked late. You reminded him that Josh was married, and that Sonya and Reggie had occasionally started to stay late as well. In the email before that, he asked you if you'd told Josh about him. You reminded him that yes, you had told all three of your new coworkers about your deployed boyfriend. Bradley was being ridiculous. And today you were going to win over Chelsea so you'd have a new friend. ------------------------------------------------- "I can't tell the difference between the wines unless one is red and one is white," Reggie said, alternating between taking sips from each glass. The woman serving the wine samples looked appalled, but you and the others couldn't stop laughing. "Do you just mix red and white together to make a blush wine?" Sonya asked. "Absolutely not," the wine specialist replied. "Okay, okay, this was a little too fancy for me," you said when she was out of earshot. "Anyone want to hit up the Hard Deck later? First round is on me." Everyone seemed kind of interested, even Chelsea, who had actually been a bit more talkative with you today. "Well, I'll be there around eight if any of you decide to join me!" you said before you started to leave. Josh nodded at you, and you could swear you felt him watching you as you walked away. When you got home, you played with Tramp and did some meal prepping for awhile. You were kind of in the mood to wear a dress out tonight, but what was the point if Bradley wasn't there. It was so much fun to tease him. So you stuck with your jeans and your boat shoes. As soon as you arrived at the bar, the boys cheered. "Haven't seen you in a week!" Hangman drawled, handing you a set of darts. "I've been super busy with work," you told him. "Can I at least get a beer first before you kick my ass?" "Hey, Payback," Hangman called over to the other aviator who was at the bar. "Get one for Angel here." You rolled your eyes and threw a dart, and by the end of the matchup, you'd lost miserably, but at least you had a beer in your hand. "So, how's Rooster?" Bob asked you, and you immediately thought of his face when you'd touched yourself over Facetime. "He's doing great!" you said with a laugh. "So is Phoenix. They were in Osaka last week." "How soon until they're back?" Fanboy asked. "Only three more weeks!" you cheered, and then you noticed Josh was at the bar. "Hey, I'm going to go sit with my new coworker for a bit. I'll be back." ---------------------------------- Bradley wanted to ball his phone up in his fist and destroy it. He just finished reading an email from Jake, and his heart was racing. Rooster,You know anything about this Josh guy hanging out with your girl? He's looking awfully cozy with her at the bar at the moment, buying her drinks and shit. Just wanted to make you aware if you weren't already.Hangman But Bradley knew if he destroyed his phone, he would have no way of emailing Jake back. "Less than three weeks," he muttered, shaking his head and pounding out a message back to Jake. Bradley trusted you, he really did. But this guy set his teeth on edge, and he'd barely seen him for more than a second over Facetime. But he just knew. Bradley knew he was interested in you. And you weren't listening to him. Bradley was sure you just thought he was acting like a jealous dick. But he knew how you were. You were perfect and so beautiful. You were fun, and maybe a little too flirty. You made people feel at ease. You were so sweet and outgoing, and everyone automatically liked you. Bradley had fallen for you so fast, and he knew he wouldn't be the only one who found you so charming. So Bradley started hitting the gym even harder, and he focused all of his concentration on missions and mission prep, trying to keep his mind occupied. He and Nat would be flying a pretty dangerous course in a few days, so he made sure he was getting enough sleep. But you were always right there at the front of his mind. -------------------------------------------- You only had two weeks left until Bradley came home, and you were positively aching for him. You bought yourself a new vibrator, but it was kind of loud and made Tramp bark when you used it. "So much for that," you mumbled, cleaning it and putting it away. You'd purposely packed your weekend full of activities. Pedicures with Maria, yoga, Costco with Cam, walking on the beach with Tramp. But it was still so hard. You were starting to get an idea of which of the engineers would be the best option to keep in San Diego long term, and you knew the other two would be so disappointed. Now almost every time you went to the Hard Deck, Josh met you there. Sometimes Chelsea came, and other times not. You found yourself having to divide your time between Josh, the aviators, and Cam and Maria. It felt good to have so many friend options, and you realized it was helping to take your mind off of your absent boyfriend. And now you were at the Hard Deck again, playing pool with Fanboy, Bob, and Coyote. The guys were always so accommodating, given that you were terrible. They took turns having you as a partner so they all lost equally. Tonight it was poor Coyote's turn. "Hey, Angel?" Hangman asked you. "That guy Josh? He's been staring at your ass the entire time you've been playing. What's the deal here?" "Nothing," you told him, rolling your eyes as you actually managed to sink a ball. "He's married, and I have Rooster." Hangman grunted as he sipped his beer. "I don't think he ought to be looking at you and buying you drinks if he's married. And I don't think you'd be doing this if Rooster was here." You felt your cheeks flush as you turned to face him. "If Bradley were here? Yeah, things would be different. I wouldn't be lonely, and frustrated and sad! But you know what Jake? He's not here. And I don't want to spend eight weeks bored and alone! And Josh isn't constantly buying me beers, we alternate paying the tab." "You don't have to get defensive with me, Angel. It's just that I can appreciate this from Rooster's perspective, is all." "Yeah, that guy's into you," Fanboy added seriously. Coyote agreed. "He definitely is." "He's. Married." You enunciated the words clearly for the boys. "Nothing's going on." "Fine," Hangman said, ending the conversation. -------------------------------------- Bradley's heart sank when he saw that Hangman had replied to his last email a week later. He'd begged Jake to make sure you were okay, make sure that guy kept his hands to himself. Rooster,I tried talking to her, but she got defensive. She said nothing's going on, and I believe her. But if you saw how he's looking at her, you'd go through the roof, man. I'm doing my best to be charming so she'll want to play darts with me. Hangman It was a sad day when Bradley trusted Hangman around you as much as he would trust being there himself. But Jake was harmless enough now, and he knew Bradley wanted to be with you forever. Thankfully he was scheduled to call you in just a few hours when it was Sunday night your time. Hopefully you'd set his mind at ease. "Bradley!" you said brightly when he answered. It was noisy, and he immediately knew you were at the Hard Deck. "Baby Girl, I miss you," he said, and he already felt better after hearing your voice. "I'm putting you on speaker. Say hi, guys!" Bradley chuckled as he was greeted by Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, Bob and Hangman. "I'm going to take this outside so I can hear you better," you told Bradley. But before you could do that he asked, "Actually, you mind if I speak to Jake for a second?" "Uh, sure, Roo," you replied, sounding bewildered. Honestly Bradley didn't want time with Jake eating into his time with you, but he was itching for more information. "Hey, it's off speaker," he heard Jake drawl. "Is he there now?" Bradley asked immediately. "Yup. And it's more of the same." Fuck. Bradley rubbed his eyes. "I realize I sound like a jealous prick right now. But can you put my mind at ease at all, man?" "Mmmm, not really," Jake replied, and he must have been walking away from you. "Your girl doesn't seem to understand how different this guy treats her when he's here with his wife versus when he's here alone. She's too sweet to everyone, man." "Has Mav been around?" Bradley asked. "Nah, he and Penny went on a sailing trip." "Shit. Thanks, Jake. You can put her back on." Bradley listened to you fill him in on your work, and he was beyond delighted when you told him you were leaning toward asking to keep Sonya on. "She's just really proficient in all of the areas where I'm weaker. She has been able to solve so many issues I've run into. Did I mention she's from Maryland?" "No, you didn't. But that's awesome, Baby Girl. And how's Tramp?" He heard you giggle and his smile widened. "He's such a little rascal! He got off his leash in the front yard yesterday and started eating a cactus! He freaked out, of course, and I had to pull one of those little spikes out of his nose. But he's fine. We just miss you." "I miss you so much. Two more weeks until you're picking me up," Bradley said, his mind drifting to all of the reunion sex you'd be having. He'd been trying to come up with a way to get to Virginia before he got home, but it just didn't seem feasible. "I'll bring the Bronco when I pick you up. She misses you too. Not as much as me though." "Oh, the things I plan to do to you, Sweetheart. They are indecent." "Tell me more, Rooster..." "Fuck! My time's up!" He heard you sigh. "I love you, Bradley. See you in two weeks." ------------------------------------------- When you hung up your call, you turned back toward the door of the Hard Deck, and you saw Josh coming outside. "Hey, just wanted to see where you'd gone." You wiped away the tear you'd managed to contain until you were off the phone. "Oh, I was just talking to Bradley." Josh looked at your cheek. "Did he make you cry?" You laughed. "Yeah, only because I miss him so much." "You miss him? Or you miss being with someone?" Josh asked you seriously. You laughed involuntarily. "I miss him." Josh smirked at you. "He never tried to get you to have....an agreement? For while he's away?" Your brow scrunched up. "You mean sleeping with other people?" "Yeah," he said with a grin. You laughed again. "No way. Never. He would never go for that! He'd have a fit if I even tried to bring it up!" You started to head back inside, and then you remembered all of the things Bradley had told you in the emails he'd sent. "Hey, why doesn't Chelsea come with you more often when you go out?" Josh just shrugged. "She prefers a quiet night at home." "And you don't prefer a quiet night at home with her?" you asked, stepping back inside the noisy bar. You certainly preferred a quiet night at home with Bradley more often than not. "Sometimes I do," he replied, and when you turned back toward him, he'd definitely been looking at your butt. He just shrugged again, but you excused yourself to the pool table. ------------------------------------------------ Your work project was going great. Bradley would be home in less than a week. And tonight was Maria's birthday. You were getting a little bit dressed up for a night at the Hard Deck, but your friend only turned thirty once. You got her an expensive bottle of champagne as a gift, and you couldn't wait to buy her some tequila shots. "Bye, Tramp. Be good!" The Hard Deck was pretty crowded for a Tuesday night, but you made a beeline directly for Maria and Cam, throwing your arms around both of them. "Happy birthday, babe!" you told her, and smiled as she kissed your cheek. "Thanks! Gonna get stupid drunk tonight!" You laughed. "We have work tomorrow!" "No, I called out already!" she told you, and you toyed with the idea of calling out sick tomorrow as well. You ordered so many shots for your friends, Jimmy could barely keep up. You danced with Maria, chugged a beer with Cam and tried your best to play a round of pool. You even saw Josh who was laughing at you a bit about how much you'd had to drink. The night was fun, but it would have been perfect if Bradley were there too. It was so late and way too hot inside when you ducked out to the deck for some fresh air. You leaned back against the deck railing, trying to cool down, but it was a warm, late-May night. You felt dizzy and fuzzy from Maria's birthday drinks. You closed your eyes and thought about Bradley and his body, and all the things he would be doing to you on Saturday night. You almost let out a moan when you started thinking about his thick neck and his big hands. Thankfully you didn't, though, because just then Josh joined you out on the deck. "It's so hot inside. I just needed to cool down," you told him with a smile. "Plus, I think I've had way too much tequila, and I'm going to need to call a Lyft later." You toyed with your necklace charms, thoughts of your boyfriend still swirling through your mind. Then you froze as he stepped into your personal space. You couldn't figure out what to do fast enough, but you stood up to your full height, deciding you'd better get back inside to the aviators and Maria. But Josh reached for your hips before you could move. His hands were big and warm like Bradley's, and if you closed your eyes, you were sure it would feel so good to be touched after so many weeks. But he was wrong. He was all wrong, because he wasn't Bradley. "What are you doing?" you asked, grabbing at his hands, but it was too late. His lips were crushing against yours in a wet, sloppy kiss. Josh's lips felt wrong too. His tongue was invasive, and you felt tears stinging in your eyes as you realized that you were kissing someone who wasn't your boyfriend. He had you pinned against the railing, and your brain was filled with Bradley and how upset he was going to be. But you couldn't figure out how to make your body move. "I've been dying to do that for weeks. Haven't you? Couldn't wait to get you alone," Josh whispered when he broke away, and when you opened your mouth to tell him to stop, he swiped his tongue inside again. "No!" you managed to say, but you could already feel his hands sliding down your dress and starting to lift it up. "Stop it!" You pushed firmly on his chest, but he barely moved. He was almost as big as Bradley was. Fuck! Bradley! Oh my God, he was going to kill you. He was going to be so upset. In your moment of hesitation, Josh ran his lips along your neck and pushed his body against yours while he worked your dress up higher. You quickly raised your knee up to his crotch in a sharp motion, and tried to dodge around him as he yelped in pain. But he grabbed you by the arm and said, "You've been leading me on the whole time I've been here!" You stared at him, flabbergasted. "What? No, I haven't!" "Yeah, you have! You tried to keep your boyfriend a secret for as long as you could. And tonight you wore that tiny dress!" "It's my friend's birthday party, and I didn't even know you'd be here! Please let go of my arm," you said, voice trembling. "I want to go back inside." And then you felt someone take you by your free hand. You looked up and saw that it was Jake. When Josh released your arm, you scrambled to Jake's side and held onto him. "Come on man, she told you no. I heard her," Jake said in a very calm voice. Josh looked abashed, but still managed to say, "She's been telling me yes with her eyes for weeks. She works late with me all the time, man. Don't you, Y/N?"" You felt Jake wrap his arm around you. "She told you no with her words right now. And maybe you don't understand what it means yet, but this is Rooster's girl. It doesn't matter how sweet she is to you, or how funny or pretty you think she is, you keep your hands off. Now get the fuck out of here." You buried your face against Jake's chest rather than watch Josh stalk back to his car. "You okay, Angel?" Jake asked you, tipping your head up so you were looking at him. "No," you croaked. "Bradley's gonna kill me." And then the tears started flowing, and you felt like you were going to throw up. Jake sighed. "I'm going to take you home, okay?" Then you cried harder. Why did you drink so much tonight? You just wanted to have fun for Maria's birthday, but now you could barely think straight. "I don't want to go home alone." "Then let's go get your friend Maria, okay?" "No! It's her birthday! I don't want to ruin her birthday!" Jake sighed again and said, "Let's go inside and get Bob then." "I don't want to go inside. Bradley is going to be so mad at me, Jake. I don't want to go back in there." You knew you were rambling, but to your relief, Jake flagged down someone who was on their way out, and sent them back inside to get Bob. Next thing you knew, Bob was walking out onto the deck, concern written on his face. "What's wrong?" he asked, and you had to listen to Jake recount what had happened to you. Except Jake wasn't blaming you for it. You wanted to open your mouth and tell them that it was all your fault, but your stomach was churning so much, you couldn't talk. "She's had a bit to drink, and that fucker was touching her and kissing her while she was telling him to stop. I need to take her home. And I need you to come with me." "Of course," Bob said gently, and both men guided you toward Jake's car and got you buckled in the passenger seat. "You okay?" Bob asked as he was about to climb into the back seat. You were crying so much, you could barely see. "I don't know. I have a pain in my stomach, and it's so hard to breathe." You could feel yourself gasping for air. "Go nice and slow, like this," Bob said, taking several deep breaths so you could imitate him. You managed to keep your stomach calm until Jake pulled up in front of your house, but you immediately threw up when you stepped out of the car. Jake took you gently by one arm and Bob by the other. When you got to the porch, Bob fished around in your clutch to find your house key and then unlocked the door. Tramp came bounding outside, but Bob caught him. "Bradley is going to be so mad at me," you were saying, over and over. It was all you could think about. "Calm down, Angel," Jake said as he guided you toward the couch and got you a glass of water. Bob took Tramp out for a little walk to wear him out, and you drank the water with shaky hands. "He'll never trust me again, Jake." Jake just sighed and pulled out his phone and started typing. "He's better than all that, Angel." You just looked up at him miserably. -------------------------------------------- Bradley turned his phone on when he got back to his bunk after the gym on Wednesday night. He collapsed into his bed and let his mind drift to you. He was almost done with this deployment, and he couldn't wait to get back home to you and Tramp. He was going to spend the weekend glued to your side after you picked him up. And he couldn't wait to go for a walk on the beach with you and Tramp and toss a tennis ball for him. Just then, his phone buzzed. It must have connected to the horrible wi-fi onboard. He opened an email from Jake, and all of the fuzzy thoughts in his mind turned to stone. Rooster,Something happened with your girl tonight. She's fine, I promise. But Bob and I are going to stay over at your house with her anyway. Just do me a favor, and hear her out before you do anything else.Hangman "What the fuck?" Bradley muttered, and he was immediately on his feet and heading for Phoenix's bunk.

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

ANGST. A BIG thank you to Alex for helping me with this part! @bradshawsbitch thanks so much!

Part 10 is here

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun fanfiction #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader

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bullet-prooflove · 7 months

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Home: Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @chickensrule @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @justameresimp @lxaah11 @librarian1002 @littlebadariell @imaginecrushes @luckyladycreator2 @emersxn99 @flrboyd @nani-kenobi @areamir @b-bradshaw @adaydreamaway08 @beausimpsonsdarling @crimeshowjunkie @shepgurl

Deployment!Series:

Propriety (NSFW) - All thoughts of propriety goes out of the window when Beau finds you in his office.

Rumours - Beau doesn't realise there's a rumour about him.

Disengage - Beau discovers your secret.

Stalemate - The stalemate between you and Beau breaks when he recieves some news.

Absence - Beau misses you.

Things always get easier after the first month, Beau knows that. It takes him a couple of weeks to get into a new routine but once he does, it feels like everything starts snapping back into place. He goes running every morning, sometimes with Jake and Cujo. A couple of times a week the two of you have a catch-up call, you fill him in on everything that’s going on in Naples and he tells you about Jake and Jenna’s engagement. You give him a tour of your office space; share pictures of the day trips you take in your downtime.

One night Beau and you spend hours talking about your visit to Pompeii. How it felt like death himself was running his fingertips up your spine when you reviewed the plaster cast of the looter who was frozen in time, stealing from jewellery shops in the middle of the crisis.

You send photographs, funny ones, touristy ones and when you have a moment to yourself the more risqué ones. These are what he looks at when he’s alone in your bed touching himself and imagining you’re there with him.

He receives a couple of surprises in the mail. Care packages of authentic Italian coffee, citrus honey and handmade beer from a local brewery. You even post an expensive bottle of wine for him to give to Jake and Jenna as an engagement gift from the both of you.

Some days are tougher than others, there are times when Beau just wants to come home and hold you close, to wrap himself up in the shelter of your arms. It cuts both ways, he knows. You tell him so during Facetime one night after a tough case.

Everyday he watches the hourglass count down each individual grain of sand, and he knows that the end of the deployment is coming, that you’ll be home soon.

On the run up to your return there’s an apprehension in his chest, there always is the month before. Communication slows down again because you’re travelling, and he worries that maybe the time away has changed something between the two of you. It’s natural to think like that, he reminds himself. It’s part of the cycle of deployment. He charts your carrier’s progress on a daily basis, Warlock ensures he’s notified of any delays or changes in plans.

The ship gets in a day late because of maintenance and Beau is standing there waiting for you when the carrier finally docks. There’s a swell of anxiety in his chest as he seeks you out, his eyes studying the crowd through his aviators. It evaporates the moment he lays eyes on you.

Your hair is a shade or two lighter, from being out in the Italian sun, pinned neatly back into an elegant bun. He can’t wait to get you home, to take those pins out and run his hands through it. When you see him, you smile and for a moment it feels like he’s the only person on that dock. In the past he may have tried to stay reserved but now he simply can’t help himself. He’s already leaving his post so he can greet you halfway across the concrete platform. The two of you collide and the second you’re in his arms any reservations he may have had melt away, he knows that nothing has changed. He can feel your love, your adoration shining through as you cling to him tightly. He kisses you until you’re breathless because he wants you to know how much he’s missed you.

His wife is home and that’s all that matters.

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thedroneranger · 1 year

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I Can Make It

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Précis: Jake gets a lengthy deployment—will he make it home for the holiday?

Note: For @notroosterbradshaw’s #hello december playlist challenge. My song is One More Sleep by Leona Lewis—fic incorporates many of the song lyrics.

Warnings: Angst n' fluff

Word count: 1.7k

The last year had been hard.

While Jake was floating on a carrier in the icy waters somewhere between Greenland and Russia, you were in California starting your life as a married woman alone.

You remembered last year vividly—you and Jake had just gotten out all your holiday decorations. As you sifted through boxes and checked lights, you were doing your best to sell Jake on going to Minnesota for the holidays.

Born and bred in Texas, Jake never had the pleasure of a white winter. Snow was a foreign concept he never really encountered until he attended the U.S. Naval Academy in Maryland. Since college, Jake hadn’t been deployed many places where it was cold unless he was on an aircraft carrier, so the best he got was ice flows and permafrost.

Although you had been together for years, Jake had yet to make it to Minnesota during the winter. You wanted to fly into Duluth and then rent a car to drive to your parents’ place just outside of Two Harbors. After Christmas, you would continue up the Lake Superior coast to Grand Marias to your family’s lake house to ring in the New Year just the two of you.

Discussion of your pitch was cut short when Jake’s phone vibrated. He signaled it was a work call, so you continued assessing decor while he wandered into the kitchen to get away from the soft music you had playing.

“What’s wrong?” You stood as Jake returned to the room, looking disappointed. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders as you stepped into his embrace, encircling his waist with your arms. Your cheek laid against his hard chest, and his cheek rested on top of your head.

“I’ve been tapped for a special mission. However, the deployment is eight to 10 months, and I leave on January first.”

This what you signed up for—you knew deployments would happen at inconvenient times. But it did not make hearing that your summer wedding and starting your family would have to be put on hold any easier.

Instead of stringing lights, you and Jake spent the afternoon rearranging the next year of your life. Jake could tell you were deflated from the news, so he ordered takeout and popped open a bottle of wine.

“Let’s get married next week,” Jake said as he topped off your glass.

“Are…you serious?” You could not tell if he was messing with you as you settled into the couch.

Jake nodded. “Serious as a heart attack, honey.” He sat the bottle on the coffee table and joined you, laying an arm along the couch behind you. “Let’s go to Minnesota and get hitched. I want to come home to my wife in a year.” Your heart swelled three sizes at his statement. A smile pulled your lips as you leaned forward and pressed yours to his.

A week later, on Christmas Eve, you and Jake stood at the end of a dock jetting into Lake Superior at your family cabin. The sun was shining, making the snow glitter and the ice glisten. Your family holiday had been extended to include Jake’s family, so both your parents, all your sisters and their families—partners and children—were huddled at the top of the dock to witness your wedding.

With the help of your sisters, Jake had surprised you by purchasing your dream dress, which thankfully wasn’t traditional, so it was tailored and ready in a matter of days. Jake wore a dark heather charcoal suit—you loved that it made his eyes pop. Jake’s oldest sister owned a salon back in Austin, so she lent her skills to you and Jake for the big day.

Your lifelong best friend, who happened to be a photographer, was recruited by your sisters to document your nuptials. And your father, a retired district judge in Duluth, officiated your ceremony. Your mothers could not help themselves and teamed up to cook one of the best meals you’ve ever had—a combination of traditional southern and midwestern dishes that featured many of yours and Jake’s favorites.

The next morning, your families left you and Jake alone at the cabin. It was the closest thing to a honeymoon you were going to get, and you were thankful to have a couple days at the lake.

You were dreaming of the few days you woke up shrouded in the warmth from the fireplace and tangled with Jake between the sheets as the pair of you drove to the base. Jake kept his eyes on the road and his fingers laced with yours on the center console. Meanwhile, you could not take your eyes off him. “Why are you staring, weirdo?” he teased.

A smile crept across your face as you squeezed his hand and looked away for a minute. “Soaking you in—this is going to be the longest we’ve been apart.” It was his turn to steal a glance at you. He then raised your entwined fists and kissed them.

You were proud of yourself—you managed to keep it together until you climbed back into the vehicle. It took you 15 minutes to compose yourself and the tears to subside enough that you could drive home.

Nearly a year later, you weren’t sure Jake would be home for the holiday. Once his deployment hit eight months, it became nine, then 10. Ten turned into 11 and now he was in Month 12 headed into Month 13.

You didn’t even bother to get the holiday decorations out. Not wanting to chance spending the holiday alone, you packed your bags and caught a flight to Minnesota. Since he had finally admitted that he enjoyed your home state in the winter, you agreed he would come there if he were to make it home.

The last time you spoke, Jake chattered about how excited he was to celebrate your anniversary. He was hoping you two could sneak away to the cabin. You agreed but didn’t want to get your hopes up. Although the last time you spoke you knew it was five more nights until he was next to you, you kept telling yourself one more sleep until you saw him. Daily doses of disappointment seemed more manageable than a week’s worth of time.

Lost in your memories of you and Jake, holding a warm mug of coffee and irish cream, you were staring out the living room window into the darkness of night. Fluffy flakes fluttered through the crisp air and disappeared into the undisturbed gentle slopes of a fresh snow blanket. The decorative lights on the house cast a golden glow, making the snow sparkle.

Your mind spiraled further into your memory bank to your youth, recalling the sound of your boots stamping prints into the fresh accumulation and the sound of snow falling all around you. Being alone in the silence of snowfall was your childhood escape. “Ma, I’m going for a walk!” You abandoned your drink on the nearest surface, slipped on your boots, coat, hat and mittens before bounding out the door.

Your nose was already chilling, surely turning red, and your lungs burned from inhaling the icy air. Muscle memory had your legs carrying you to the trailhead that disappeared into the treeline on the backside of your childhood home. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, a smile pulled your lips as you listened to the silence and the hard crunch beneath your feet. It was tough to say how much time passed while you stood on the trail, listening to the snow, letting the flakes hit your face, feeling your resolve harden.

In the distance, you heard crunching. Keeping your eyes closed, you listened as it neared. Years of listening to the snow, you knew those were human feet, and they were headed your way. Curious who would approach you, you kept your eyes closed and just listened. The crunching was within yards of you when it stopped.

“We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” you heard from behind you. Your entire body tensed. Eyes cautiously opening, you turned to look over your shoulder. Jake was casually standing there, hands in his pockets, smiling at you.

Still in disbelief, you turned your entire body to face him. “Hey, stranger,” you greeted.

His smile grew three sizes bigger, his dimples really digging into his cheeks. “Has it been that long?” he teased as he stepped toward you.

Pursing your lips, you glanced at the ground and then at him. “Just 357 days.”

“But who’s counting?” He continued to walk closer. His hands were still in his pockets, while yours were balled in your mittens at your sides.

You shrugged as he closed the distance between you. “I had my doubts you’d get back home,” you added. Your eyes were locked on his, your head tilting back to keep eye contact as he stepped into your personal space. Your lip disappeared between your teeth as you watched him lean closer and closer—his eyes landing on your mouth.

Jake’s warm hand slipped out of his pocket and gently cradled your jaw, his index finger resting behind your ear and his thumb resting on your cheek. Your lips were almost touching. “I told you I’d be with you real soon, honey,” he said before pressing his lips to yours. His warmth melted the winter night chill. Jake pulled away and let his thumb graze your bottom lip while his hand remained on the side of your face.

“I’m still in shock that you’re really here,” you confessed. His signature smile reappeared—nearly as radiant as the snow. He pulled you as close as your thick down coats would allow and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips.

“I can think of a few ways to prove I’m really here.” He held you so your bodies were completely pressed to one another. “But first, let’s go celebrate the holiday with your folks.” He gave you one more kiss—this one hungrier than the last.

“You can prove yourself when we get to the cabin tomorrow night.” Lust was evident in your voice. You slipped your mitted hand around his and led the way back to the house.

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