#but i shouldn't have made the promise to make this a series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xiaowhore · 2 months

Text

genshin men as shoujo tropes.

characters. neuvillette, wriothesley, & alhaitham.

note. in celebration of the shoujo renaissance (and also bc im having a hard time finishing the drafts i left half a year ago) i present to you the ideas i had while half-asleep this morning. i dunno if this will ever be a consistent series but here are the first 3! (heads up: female pronouns will be used in this fic!)

neuvilette ; the duke

it has to be said. he's the duke of the north.

you belong to an aristocratic family, but you're basically neglected due to being your father's illegitimate child with a maid and your younger sister is much better than you at every way there is. appearance, etiquette, and intellect—she is far more superior than you at these aspects. countless men ask for her hand in marriage, while none asks for yours.

but honestly, you didn't want to be wed to a noble. you dream of being a commoner, free from the clutches of your family who looks down on you and solely dotes on your sister. you could be a baker perhaps, since you've always had a hobby of making sweets.

yet your parents suddenly announce you're now engaged. and to the duke of the north, of all people! he has made a great contribution for the war against the monsters within the continent, but he is more known for his ruthlessness and harsh temperament. if you were to be his wife, what would happen to you? the duke holds a lot of power, but no one wants to marry him because they're all afraid of him, you included.

as you're being sent to his castle by carriage, you're already trying to comfort yourself. at least you're away from your family now. he couldn't possibly be worse than them. and as ruthless the rumors all say he is, duke neuvillette is not the type of man to beat a woman who has done no wrong.

your first dinner with him is completely silent. the clacking of cutlery pierces through the air, the only sound you can hear other than your heart rapidly pounding in your chest. your head is bowed, too fearful to meet him in the eye, but you can't help sneaking glances at him.

the duke doesn't appear in most events hosted by nobles, too busy defending his territory from monstrous creatures to attend. but you see now that those rumors about him being unsightly could not be any more false. his long hair drapes over his shoulders, not a strand out of place. his gaze is calculating, a fascinating blue you can't look away from, and his nose cuts a high angle—he'd look fetching if he wore glasses as he does paperwork. really... how could this man be your husband-to-be?

as you're busy worrying over how you shouldn't offend him and appreciating his appearance, neuvillette is trying his best to appear calm. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, whose hand was promised to him if he won against the dragon slumbering in the northern mountains. the woman he had yearned for years on end, the woman who gave him strength as he was on the verge of death during the war, the woman who doesn't remember him anymore—

but he promised you long ago he'll make you the happiest woman in the world, and he's intent on keeping his vows.

neuvilette may appear stoic, but he's nothing but sweet to you. he accompanies you at every opportunity he isn't busy with work, spoils you rotten, and makes you want for nothing. word spread throughout the land that duke neuvillette couldn't be any more smitten with his wife, erasing all rumors that claimed he was heartless. you were intimidated by him at the start, but as you spent more time with him, you learned that there was no reason to be.

...however, that only applies to you. although you never said it outright, neuvillette can tell your family didn't care for you properly. he already had reservations with them, and now he has other reasons to be angry.

when your sister comes to his residence and claims there was a “mix-up” in the marriage, that she should be the one wed to him and not you, he is furious.

but there's really only one ending for this story—after all, his heart only belongs to you.

wriothesley ; the bodyguard

you're the only granddaughter of a yakuza leader and wriothesley is your bodyguard who will protect you no matter what. (not claiming ‘a girl and her guard dog’ energy; there are plenty of other mangas who have this trope too.)

you're just an ordinary girl with a very extraordinary family but you want to live a normal life free of violence and keep your family background a secret. you beg your grandfather to let you attend classes at a normal school, and he allows you in one condition: wriothesley must be with you at all times.

so yeah. this tall and absolutely ripped guy is behind you every time you walk to school, in the corridors, on the way to the cafeteria, and the only time he isn't following you is when you go to the restroom.

very protective. never lets his guard down when you're talking to boys. doesn't understand what you see in the handsome guy that everyone likes when his looks aren't all that great (he's just jealous).

“let's go home. it's about time for the car to arrive... what do you mean you still have something to do? ...there's someone waiting for you at the rooftop? you found a love letter in your locker? ...i'll wait for you at the door.”

he does wait for you at the door, but he also tries to hear the conversation you're having. and maybe he scoffs a little when he sees the guy who's trying to vye for your attention, because clearly wriothesley worried for nothing.

there will be a lot of dangerous events involved (i.e. kidnapping for ransom, attempts to kill you as revenge, wriothesley's enemies trying to harm you because you're the person he loves etc.) but wriothesley will save you each time.

“i'm right here,” he says as he cradles you in his arms, hugging your trembling body. “you don't have to fear anything now.”

it's nothing serious. just a pathetic attempt at kidnapping by a bunch of idiots who want ransom money. you're safe and sound in the car, waiting for him to finish his business with the delinquents, but that fact doesn't make his anger fade at all. “if i see a single scratch on her, i'll kill you.”

his head is bleeding, dripping crimson over his right eye, but all he sees is your bound wrists, the bruise on your cheek, the blood on your lip. he's out of bullets. you're both surrounded by henchmen. he has a single blade in his pocket. still, he roars with uncontrollable rage, “no one touches her!”

(very important detail: he calls you “my lady.”)

alhaitham ; the nonchalant male lead

he's definitely the cold guy who's (at first) rude and blunt to the female lead.

you've liked him since you were kids. your moms are best friends and you live next door to each other. both of your parents seem convinced you're going to end up together, but he rejects every single one of your advances—not that it discourages you from trying again next time.

you try to walk to school with him even though he always goes to the library too early and you're the furthest thing from a morning person. you offer him the best parts of the lunchbox you cook for yourself. you give him a cold drink after gym class. you invite him out to the mall during the weekends to hang out. you doll yourself up everyday with cosmetics and accessories in hopes that he'll think you're pretty.

but alhaitham always just looks... disinterested. especially during dinners where both of your families are present and his mother teases him about dating you for what seems like the nth time that night.

and you know he's not obligated to like you back or anything. but you still want to get his attention. you want to improve yourself to get him to like you.

alhaitham may come across as cold-hearted, but he buys you bread from the convenience store on the way to school because he knows you missed breakfast just to go with him. he keeps an eye out for any stray balls hitting you during gym class because for some reason you attract them like a magnet. he often declines your offer to go outside during weekends, but he's willing to tutor you for the test scheduled next week.

so you like to think of yourself as someone special. because surely, he doesn't do these things for anyone else, right? you must be one of the closest people to his heart, right?

but then the pretty girl from the class next door confesses to him, and you think you've lost your chance. she's tall and gorgeous, her clothes are always the latest fashion, and you're pretty sure she's around the same student rankings as alhaitham. they're talking by the cherry blossom tree, and no one can hear what they're saying behind the wall you're hiding from in your quest to eavesdrop on them.

but then alhaitham leaves first, not giving her a single glance after what you assume to be a swift rejection. the girl isn't crying, but she looks a bit shocked as she returns to school, not expecting the turn of events.

your classmates don't even pretend to be decent; all of them are asking her what happened. “he says he's not interested in dating, that's all.”

and at that, you sigh in relief. even if you're not special to him now, no one else is either.

you don't notice her looking at you, envy burning in her gaze. she didn't say any lies—but she did omit something important.

“i think... i like someone now. the most important person to me.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin scenarios #alhaitham x reader #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley x reader #fluff

3K notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 1 month

Text

Old Yellow Bricks - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: The conclusion to the adventures of an international thief and an Avenger witch. Or the one where you stop skipping work, Valentina answers the phone and Wanda does an ultrasound.

Warnings: (+18), smut (wanda taking the lead ‘cause that’s hot), bl*wjob, unprotected s*x, creampie, more shapeshifting stuff, some supervillain drama, minor angst with a happy ending I promise. | Words: 7.094k

A/N-> Hey folks, yes, I know I disappeared for a long time but I was so busy and mentally exhausted that I couldn't keep writing anymore, and I used practically half of my vacation just to get a decent amount of sleep. This story was almost abandoned, but I decided to give it an ending, even if it was a bit hasty, out of affection for the plot and out of consideration for those who have followed it up until now. I hope you aren't too dissatisfied with the ending, I tried to address any loose ends and leave it open to the canon we already know. Good reading.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

It shouldn't come as a surprise that you got caught. But you did, mainly because for the past weeks you've felt so comfortable around Wanda that for a moment, you weren't you. No international bounty for your head, not gangs or supervillains or big schemes.

Just you and Wanda.

Your small argument with the Black Widow was to blame for your distracted state, but fairly, those men were probably following you for a while now, just waiting for the right opportunity to show themselves.

They weren’t aggressive, despite everything. You're just walking a little further from the hotel and this Van - Strategically hidden with paintings from a pest control service - was parked next to the sidewalk and you immediately knew. The door opened and nobody came out.

It was an invitation.

You took a deep breath and a last glance at the street before getting in.

The face of one of Valentina's most trustworthy henchmen, Mrs. Cassian Camorra, came to focus in the poorly lit car. He was not alone, masked guards armed to the teeth took every other seat. The only vacant spot was for you.

With a discreet shift, there was no longer much difference between your muscles and theirs. The change made the white-collar man chuckle at you.

“There's no need for that, reaper.” Says Cassian with a smirk. “We're not here for a fight.”

You stare at him with an indifferent expression, lifting your chin a little.

“The Guns send a different message.” You say but he smiles again just before nodding to the others, who immediately relax their alarmed posture even though they continue to listen to the conversation. In that small space, it would be impossible to do anything else.

You don't let your guard down but sigh once your eyes meet Cassian’s again.

“I don't go by that name anymore, Cass, you know that.”

He chuckles. “Would you prefer shithead?” He teases but you roll your eyes, wishing this conversation would end soon. He laughs again at your expression. “I still don't understand why you would be ashamed of one of your greatest achievements. The Reaper was a goddamn legend! The name gave people the chills!” He recalls excitedly.

You swallow, shifting in your seat. “Just tell me what you are here for.” You cut his enthusiasm with a sharp demand, managing to make your voice deeper. The security guard next to him has this immediate reaction of touching his gun, but you offer him a cocky smirk before focusing on Cassian again.

He adjusts his suit, one of his hands moving to his jacket pocket to grab something. A small purple cart is extended to you but you don't move a muscle.

“I'm not looking for a job at the moment.” You tell him but he chuckles, flipping the card to show you the back of it.

You thought it was the traditional mission paper with a coding at the back, for you to find target information but instead of that habitual info, there's a written number there.

“The Countess asks to meet in person.”

You don't grab the card. “If that is what she wants, then why didn't she come here herself?”

The man chuckles, and without giving a damn about the concept of personal space, he moves his hands to find your pocket and shove the card inside.

“The Countess is a clever woman, child. Why on earth would she talk business with your new superhero friends around?”

“They are not my friends.” You mutter, pushing his hands away with a slap before pulling the card out of your pocket. “And if she really wished to see me, her face would be the one to welcome me into this car.”

But when you make mention of getting up, Cassian loses some of the calm facade he kept so far.

“Sit your spoiled ass back right now, kid.” The bodyguards in the two seats behind you grab you by the shoulders, but their hands move away once you are back at your spot so you don't try to start a new fight. “This is the problem with Valentina's little freaks. You all think you're special. She's too soft with your type, so you grow confident in your insignificance. Let me tell you what's going to happen if you don't take this cordial invitation seriously, Lady Fontaine. Every favor for your protection, every deal, is off. You won't be CIA protégée anymore, you'll be on your own. For once in your life. That might talk some sense into your head.”

The anger is burning in your chest because of the cruel words but it spreads around with shame and guilt. Tears beg their way to your eyes but you keep your cheeks dry.

“I've been alone my whole life, Cass. You don't know shit.”

But he laughs, truly, as if you're joking.

“Alone? You? Hydra's golden egg goose?” He mocked managing some chuckles from his colleagues. “You're the one who doesn't know shit, you brat. You have no idea what people like us would do to have the kind of protection you so proudly display without a second thought. The mansions, the travels, the luxury. All that money. And don’t get me started on the attitude. The rest of us living in the gutter, trying to survive out of crumbs while freaks like you get to walk around like you own the world.” He narrates with a trace of bitterness and contained hatred that makes you shudder. “How many times have you walked out of prison? Do you think it's the same for the rest of us? That we get those same privileges?”

Some redness escapes to your cheeks but you manage to keep your cool.

“I have no power over how things happen in our line of work, Cass. And I am hardly the one you should be angry at. Those privileges you say, believe me, they came at a very high price.”

But Cassian rolls his eyes, dismissing your words with a hand gesture. “Fragile. You always have been. Crybaby should be your next nickname.”

You sigh impatiently and this time, when you move to open the door and leave the car, they allow it without any fight. Standing on the sidewalk, you hear Cass hold the door open and look at him one last time.

He leans for one last warning. “If you ignore her invitation, she will have her answer. And we will be back, this time, not for a conversation.” He lets you know with a little smile that makes you shallow hard. The possibility of putting Wanda in danger makes your heart miss a beat. And when Cass lets out a small exclamation as if remembering something, you somehow know it's not a good thing. He searches in his other pocket only to take a small photo.

“Almost forgot. She asked me to give you this. A gesture of trust, she said.”

But that was nothing trustworthy about Valentina being aware of you and Wanda's relationship, especially for such a long time. The picture is from a security camera and is clear by the poor definition, but still, that day is still fresh in your mind as if it happened yesterday. The Avengers fair you once infiltrate to find Wanda, only for her to end any plan you might had or ever could by kissing you. Inside those tents you were safe but outside, the camera caught the last kiss you stole from her before your departure.

The fact that Valentina knew about this, for so long, makes you feel sick in your stomach.

You don't take the picture - it's a symbol of the false freedom you possessed under Valentina's wigs. You storm off and hear the agents giggling and muttering threats before the car is gone, and so are you when you make a curve that takes you back to the hotel parking lot.

The whole thing made your blood boil. How dare she? What was she even after, what did that photo even mean? Was it a treat? Or it could really be a gesture of trust? Something like, yes she knew and she never did anything about it, so maybe Valentina doesn't want your complete misery. But then again, you know her well enough to tell that every action she takes is a well-planned one. If she knew about your relationship with Wanda and allowed that with no fuss other than a small bait in the first weeks, telling you to read Avengers files in an attempt to get you away from Wanda, then for sure, Valentina had a bigger plan.

And for once in your life, you're done with being the pawn.

Wanda's asleep when you're back in your shared motel room so you do your best to keep it quiet on your way to the bathroom.

This will be painful but you're confident you can manage, with your powers help at least.

The small device hidden under your ribs is a high-tech tracker and it's your last physical connection to your old life. It doesn't work unless you want it to, because it answers to a biological stimulation only you can provide. Baron von Strucker gave this to you as a work tool, if you were ever captured, you could call for help without anyone being aware.

You haven't tried to use the device purposefully in years, but sometimes, when being too hurt, it would activate on its own. And because it's quite easy to forget a hidden object behind your ribs, it occurred to you that it has been active since you bled out in Greece, the same day Wanda called to tell you she was pregnant.

The realization that Valentina was aware of your location for so long, Wanda's and her friends especially, rips a sob to your throat. It’s more painful to know you’ve been putting her in danger than the open wound.

You muffle down your crying the second you hear the bed shifting. But luckily Wanda doesn't wake up. Taking a deep breath, your shaky hands keep doing the hard work - to cut open with a medical kit's scalpel your skin so you can remove the tracker.

It's painful of course but it ends quickly. You don't need a badge but it does take a lot of energy to heal on your own so when you're finally back at the bed, after destroying the little device with a squeeze, storing everything else, and getting clean, you're quite exhausted. Stumbling around, you do a poor job of laying down without much noise.

Your girlfriend only grumbles sleepy in return before her magic brings you closer to her body.

-&-

“Wake up.”

It's less gentle than previous attempts, but Wanda had to do it. You were really disturbed in your sleep - mumbling and sweating as if you were running.

Your restlessness and discomfort disturbed her greatly, but she gives you a tender smile as she sees all the tension ease when you meet her eyes.

Sleepily, you close your eyes again the next moment and Wanda takes the opportunity to move the sweaty hair away from your face.

"You were having a nightmare." She mumbles, and she's almost sitting on your lap so you think that it would be a waste to miss the opportunity. Your hands bring her into the position with ease, but Wanda has concern on her face. "Talk to me, detka."

A smile fills your lips, and you remain in a half-asleep state. "I love it when you call me that. You're so lovely, Wanda."

A faint blush fills your cheeks, but Wanda is determined to clarify a few things. "You came back late and as big as a bodyguard. I want to know what happened." She says, and seeing you sigh with your eyes closed, she frowns her heart racing. "Did you find trouble?"

"No, everything's fine." You retort quickly, stubbornly. And Wanda tilts her head incredulously at the clear lie. You finally look her in the eye, and she thinks it's unfair that you're such a pretty liar. Unable to hold her gaze, you look away, the flush on your face more from embarrassment than anything else. "It was nothing." You correct, annoyed, and Wanda sighs at the whole thing. She hopes that one day, your barriers won't have to be so raised all the time and you'll be able to trust her by instinct. But considering the kind of life you've led so far, maybe something like that is just impossible to achieve.

She moves one of her hands to your face, caressing the skin tenderly. "If you can't put it into words, let me see."

You close your eyes again, nodding, and the invasion is almost immediate. The whole thing happens very quickly - Wanda is getting better at it. Accessing last night's memories is easy, the hard part is dealing with their significance.

When she comes to her senses, the room comes into focus again and so does your turned-away face. Pure guilt and shame in your expression.

"I'm sorry." You say promptly, your voice a bit tearful. " I keep fucking things up. I brought them to us because I forgot the damn tracking, and I got everyone in danger. I understand if you're angry and want to shout at me."

Wanda sighs at the words, shaking her head. "No one's going to be yelling at anyone." She says, her hands moving lower to pull your shirt up a little. She traces the new scar, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders as she sees that, apparently, you've healed fine.

"Don't ever do anything like this again." She says, and you sniffle.

"That was the only trace I had-"

"Not that." She cuts in seriously, waiting for you to look at her. Wanda looks more hurt than angry and that confuses you. "You can't just self-harm in the bathroom and sew yourself back up in silence. You have to tell me things. You should let me take care of you, all right?"

Aware that the warmth spreading through your chest is quickly creeping up your neck and ears, you give up on putting together a coherent sentence. You nod quickly, and Wanda gives a weak laugh.

"I'm not angry." She continues, adjusting your shirt again, although her hands remain underneath, drawing patterns on your skin as she speaks. "You're always so... jumpy. And you get into trouble like it's second nature. And you're so incredibly stubborn-"

"Thanks." You grumble ironically, but your annoyance turns into a choke when you feel Wanda shift in your lap. It's an intentional fit at your hips, she's probably noticed the bulge you'd forgotten you were even carrying now. And the fit takes the air out of your lungs and makes your body jerk gently, waking you up completely.

Wanda doesn't pay a second's attention to your reactions as she continues to talk. "You also have this habit of not letting me finish my sentences." She says with a little grin, her eyes dilating as your breathing starts to get heavy. "And I have to admit that you're hard work, but darling, you're worth every second of that effort. I wish I could take all the pain out of your past, but since I can't, I need you to understand that you're no longer dealing with things on your own. That I'm as devoted to you as you are to me."

These are romantic, intense, and considerate words. But Wanda is grinding slowly against your hips as she says them and you can only return a desperate nod, a deep moan tearing its way into your throat.

Wanda won't even let you lead - Your hands grab her barely covered ass through the oversized shirt she's stolen from you in an attempt to intensify the friction, but bright magic threads pull your wrists away in the next second.

With your hands pinned to the headboard, you can only squirm at the mercy of the woman on top of you.

"You feel bigger than last time, baby." She whispers, almost losing her train of thought during a particularly hard thrust against your hips. You struggle to breathe.

But Wanda stops, and you bite back a sigh of frustration as you stare at her in a mixture of desperation and curiosity. She works with a certain urgency on your underwear, but instead of rewarding you with her warm cunt, she moves away until she's between your legs, her nails scratching your thighs.

"W-wanda, what are you doing?" You ask, suddenly very shy, your eyes slightly wide. She giggles, as her magic removes your underwear completely, and she leans in, planting kisses on your thighs that make you shiver.

Her dominant hand finally grabs your length and it's not very gentle so you let out something between a moan and a whimper and Wanda looks at you with a certain regret.

"Sorry, babe." She says softly, still holding you now more carefully. "I've never done this before."

Your mouth is dry, and your eyes want to close and just enjoy the sensation, but you fight these instincts to speak. "Done what, Wanda?"

She giggles mischievously, and her hand moves slowly, giving a tentative squeeze that makes the muscles in your thigh twitch. "You know what." She says in return, although you both share the strong blush on the cheeks, Wanda seems more confident about what she's about to do. "It can't be that hard. And if I do something wrong, you can just tell me to stop."

"Wanda, you don’t have to-" But she leans in, and unceremoniously takes your member into her mouth. You break down in an aroused sob, arching up on the bed.

It's heaven, you're sure. Wanda Maximoff decided to wake you up with a blowjob, it’s a gift from the heavens that you must definitely don’t deserve but you won’t complain. You struggle against the magical chains just as you struggle to breathe and not to come immediately when Wanda continues to suck you off.

It's sloppy at first - as she mentioned, she had never done that before. But the lack of practice doesn't make the act any less deliriously enjoyable. You feel very close very quickly and have to use all your concentration when Wanda meets your gaze, mouth full.

"Jesus." You groan, your whole body vibrating. Wanda pulls back, licking the tip and your eyes roll back. "Fuck."

She revels in your moans as much as she does in the whole thing. She can feel her own core throbbing at seeing you so pathetically at her mercy, but she wants you to finish first. Her hand moves to help and with each lick of the head leaking pre-cum, your body jerks in a way that makes the bed shake.

"Come on, baby, you can cum." She encourages you firmly as she alternates between sucking and licking. "You need this. And I got you."

You cry out the warning, and Wanda takes your whole length so as not to waste a drop. Your back arches on the bed, and the hot shot is deep into her throat. Wanda moans in return, making a mess all around as you try to return to orbit, your chest heaving and your body jerking.

She kisses your now flaccid member, biting back a smile as she watches the final throbs. Taking advantage of your state, Wanda resumes her previous position on your lap. Her magic fades from your wrists.

Just the brief rubbing of her thick thighs against you is enough for Wanda to feel you harden again.

"Are you sure, babe? You're still shaking." She asks teasingly, but all you give in return is an affected chuckle, your hands helping her to settle into you. The invasion happens slowly, and Wanda groans satisfied at the proof that yes, you are bigger. The stretching is gentle, and it's not painful because she's soaked, but it's still there and she has to bite her lips as she slowly sinks down until you bottom up.

Panting together, you watch her adoringly, your hands on her hips helping her move.

Wanda doesn't rush things. She rides you leisurely, feeling every inch of your cock inside her warm walls until the slowness is too overwhelming.

Her hands rest on your shoulders, and you don't care that her nails are digging into your skin because Wanda feels too good for you to think of any other sensation than that tight pussy wrapping around you.

She holds your gaze, and between the grunts and moans she lets you know; "I love you." You can only nod, trying to gasp the same when Wanda suddenly bounces harder.

One of your hands grips with more strength, enough to mark the skin and she has to grab the headboard for a firmer support.

You groan at her nearly roughness; "Easy, woman." You try, even though she's grinding vigorously and the room has started to spin. "Wanda, damn it. Be more... ah... careful. You're pregnant...slow down… God."

She comes first, which is a surprise because you honestly don't know how you managed to hold it for so long.

You're still coming inside her when she collapses on top of you, falling down against your shoulder. But then there's satisfied laughter filling the room, and a joke about that being a very incredible way to start a day.

-&-

It's decided that you guys need to move as soon as you and Wanda are properly dressed and Wanda has encouraged you to be honest with the other Avengers.

And she also doesn't need to be a mind reader to know that there's something wrong with Natasha, who doesn't offer more than a mumble of agreement and doesn't say anything about you keeping a tracker jammed in your ribs all this time.

While Wanda goes out to buy breakfast for the team, you stay behind and busy yourself packing the bags. But she is recognized at the grocery store near the motel when she tries to buy breakfast. It's just a child and her older sister, wanting photos with an Avenger, but it still causes her so much anxiety that she goes back to the bedroom with something more than food: a box of hair dye.

"I thought I'd follow Natasha's idea." That's what she gives as an explanation, and you laugh confusedly but end up believing it until Wanda has bleached spots and ends up confessing what really made her late.

You're standing in the doorway, and she's focused on painting her hair, her eyes meeting yours through the reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"I'm sorry for not saying it right away. I just didn't want to worry you."

You let out a sigh before offering her a small smile. "No problem, love." You assure her, reaching over to pick up the empty box of the product and read some of the labeling on the back. "I'm more concerned about whether pregnant women can dye their hair."

Your comment makes Wanda giggle. Her magic continues the process of coloring the spots, and she busies herself with washing her hands at the sink.

"Well, most pregnant women can't manipulate energy and move things with their minds. I think I'll survive." She jokes back, sticking her tongue out at you when you smile. It ends up being a small grimace battle before you return the empty box to the garbage can and lean in to steal a kiss from her.

Wanda smiles through it, but her cold, wet hands reach under your blouse and make you jump. She laughs at the reaction, and you can barely notice the time passing as you play with each other and wait for the dye to finish settling on your locks.

When Wanda disappears back into the bathroom for a while, you wait for her to finish washing her hair and nothing really prepares you for the new look. Your girlfriend is slightly shy as she reappears, the towel still slung over her shoulders.

"So, what do you think?" She asks about the red hair and you swallow dry, speechless. Wanda blushes immediately, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. "What?"

"You look..." Your voice fails you and you have to clear your throat. "Really beautiful."

Wanda smiles, but then raises an eyebrow, gesturing gently in your direction. "It does seem that you truly like it, dear, I'm flattered."

You blink in confusion, before following her gaze and noticing your own body, and the bulge in your pants. Grinning in embarrassment, you quickly cover yourself with the nearest pillow. "Sorry." You mumble with your ears burning, but Wanda giggles, glancing quickly at the ajar door.

"I wonder if we still have time before we leave." She comments, scarlet threads appearing through the wood with the thought of closing it, but as if guessing the intentions of a delay, the door suddenly opens and Captain Rogers is practically pushed inside by Natasha.

"Nice change, Maximoff. But I hope your suitcases are ready." That's what the widow said, and she looked stressed, most likely because of all the stories about her adventures the night before. If your embarrassment over the tracker story wasn't enough, there was the other one you were trying to hide under your pillow. Wanda disguised it better than you, nodding quickly to the widow and gesturing toward the ready backpacks. "Steve can you take these to the quinjet please, I want to have a word with Romeo and Juliet."

The Captain sighed, trying to ignore being made a baggage handler - Muscles must be good for something - and offered you and Natasha a sympathetic look before leaving the room.

The widow closed the door but you spoke first. “Listen Nat, if this is a second scolding for the tracker, I've already made sure it can't be retraced and-"

"That's not it." She interrupts you with a certain determination, then a forced smile. "I've found a doctor for you. For Wanda, to be more exact."

The now red-haired woman gives Nat a surprised look and it's you who asks; "Are you sure it's safe? Risking a medical appointment in the situation we're in."

"You underestimate me."

"I didn't mean it like that."

But Nat smiles genuinely, shrugging. She checks her watch.

"We're actually going to meet her. Apart from Banner, she's the only doctor I trust."

You and Wanda exchange a look before nodding to Natasha in thanks. Your girlfriend then asks; "That's not all you wanted to talk about, is it Nat?"

The widow nods, seeming to get upset for a moment.

"I'm not saying this for the tracker story, I swear I'm not, but... maybe it's better if Y/N doesn't stay with us anymore."

Wanda snorts indignantly, ready to protest, especially as you lower your head.

"We stay together-"

"I know." Natasha cuts off Wanda's defensiveness with a sigh. "I wouldn't expect otherwise." She mutters, taking a deep breath to gather her courage. "Rogers doesn't agree, you know how protective he is over you. I mean, he was pretty indignant when Tony tried to ground you in the Tower. Anyway, that's not the point. Clint left. He accepted a decent deal until things settle down, and yes, they will settle down. I know it feels like our world has turned upside down overnight, but we need to remember why the Avengers were created in the first place. It's only a matter of time before they need us, all of us again, and maybe it's experience talking, but I've seen so many governments collapse and rise again. I have seen this movie before."

The widow vents and you and Wanda don't have the heart to interrupt her.

"What I mean is that Clint can make a deal for his family, and maybe you can do the same."

Wanda thinks for a moment until she swallows. "I'm not an agent with years of military service to my credit. General Ross would never offer me a deal."

"Not him. And not to you." Natasha retorts, turning her face towards you.

You sigh deeply as you understand exactly what she's implying. " Is there really no other option?"

Natasha gives you a sympathetic smile. "That's not an ultimatum, mercenary. Just think about it. None of us wants a pregnant woman in the life of a fugitive, and don't make that face Wanda, I know you don't want the baby to be in danger either." Your girlfriend begrudgingly shuts up, knowing that the widow is right. "Just give it a thought. Melina has agreed to do the prenatal care, so you have all this time to make a decision."

Natasha nods in farewell before heading out the door, and you turn to Wanda.

"Do you have any idea who Melina is?"

-&-

In the safety of the Quinjet and the untraceable lines of the Avengers, you call Contessa Fontaine.

The first thing Valentina says when she sees your face in the high-definition hologram is a scolding; "That tracker was worth a billion dollars."

You have to laugh, your back resting on the cold metal of the ship. "Can't say I'm sorry, boss. Having a tracker in the middle of your ribs doesn't scream work ethic."

She gives a short laugh, and you realize from the surroundings that she's in the private room of the Fontaine Mansion, a place you've been to countless times before.

"What can I do for you, my dear child?" She asks, slightly impatient. You swallow dry.

"Your people said you wanted to see me." You comment.

Valentina laughs wryly. "Oh, yes, in person. Not talking through an Avengers line. You must have lost your mind."

"There are no more Avengers, Val, you know that." You retort, and she smiles in satisfaction.

"Touche." She mutters before raising her bright eyes to you. "But let me guess, they're listening to this conversation."

You sigh impatiently. "What difference does it make? I've been with them for weeks. I could have told them all the secrets I know about your work, but I didn't. Just as you didn't inform General Ross of their location. So how about we stop playing games?"

Valentina gives another evil little laugh, nodding. "Oh, dear, I miss our conversations, you're always so direct and attentive. Yes, I didn't hand over Team America to Ross, because unlike that arrogant fool, I have no interest in seeing our heroes trapped in the Raft. Only someone like Ross and his ballistics background would think of something as stupid as taking out Earth's main line of defense for threats we have no means of dealing with." You remain silent at Val's words, and she takes a breath to continue. "You know me, Y/N. I like my... enhanced ones. I understand the grandeur of this new world, men like Ross, impressionable with colored rifles, don't."

"So... you've been trying to help the Avengers?"

She breaks into a laugh. "Help? Don't go that far." She retorts grinning. "Let's say we had allied objectives up to the present moment. And I have no reason to put them out of work, you know? In any case, perhaps a little time out of the spotlight and struggling will lower some of their egos. It's a shame that Mr. Stark always seems to shrug off the consequences of his actions, he could learn something without having billions to spare."

You sigh without patience for the speech, adjusting your body. "Val, speaking of money-"

"Oh, it's about time."

With a short laugh, you continue; "I need mine."

She looks at you for a moment, before smiling. "Your money has always been yours to use. Nothing has changed."

But you force a smile, not quite believing it. "Everything has changed, Val. I don't want Lady Fontaine's money. I don't want to be one of your pawns. I want a new account, a new life. With everything I've worked to earn."

"And what makes you think I can give it to you?"

You snort, rubbing a stress point on your forehead. "Please, Val, don't take me for someone naïve, who doesn't know the extent of your influence."

But Valentina sighs deeply, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, to look at you intently.

"In fact, I'm beginning to think that your naivety is indeed remarkable and, unfortunately, my responsibility." She comments, and you chuckle ironically and indignantly, but she doesn't let you question it. "There is no new beginning for you, Y/N. Not the way you're asking me, not the way you really want. You're deluding yourself if you think I can bring in false documents and billions of dollars without anyone ever finding out the truth. That's not how things work. The bill always comes, and a past so stained with red always catches up with people like us." She says and you swallow, not having the heart to interrupt when you know deep down that she's not lying. Despite her seriousness, Valentina's gaze softens: "I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but all is not lost. You've been walking around for weeks with someone who committed as many atrocities as you did, and yet have been allowed to experience the greatest version of freedom a criminal can get."

It takes a moment for you to realize that she's talking about Natasha. You glance quickly at the main area of the quinjet through the glass of the private room they got you to call Val, and your former boss uses this time to light a cigarette.

"I'm not a black widow."

Val chuckles. "Of course not, they fight much better." She comments and you grimace. Val takes a slow drag, blowing smoke against the camera before continuing to talk; "Speaking of them, you should thank your new friend sometime. The amount of black widows she's put on the market looking for work is what's given you so much time off. I'm not short-staffed, thanks to that."

"I'm glad the rescue of trafficked women has given you new employees, Contessa." You sneer in annoyance, stepping out of the way of the video and ignoring her confusion to tap lightly on the glass. The Avengers outside look up at the same time, but you wave for Natasha and Wanda to come inside.

"Where'd you go, little bird?" Val asks the wall, and ends up choking on her smoke as the faces of the two Avengers come into focus next to you. "Oh, hello. What an honor-"

"Cut it, Val." You interrupt annoyedly, squeezed between Natasha and Wanda on the seat in the room. "Make your proposal. I want Romanoff to tell me if it's true, because she's the only one with any real experience of these things, and well, Wanda's my partner and she should be up to speed."

Your former boss smiles impressed. "What a lovely thing, a thief and an Avenger, my eyes can hardly believe it."

You snort impatiently, but Valentina doesn't keep up the teasing. She nods, before turning her attention to the personal computer next to her phone. As she types, she repeats her earlier proposal. "I need to work on it first, dear. But I understand it will be something very similar to the agreements Miss Romanoff signed with Shield when she was hired as an Agent. Serving the American government entirely in exchange for freedom."

Natasha looks at you. "Is that what you want to do? Be an Agent?"

But you shake your head, offering her a sad smile. "There's no more Shield to recruit me. And I don't think I'm fit to be an Avenger anyway. But Val is director of the CIA. She could offer me something perfectly legal. And I could have an almost normal life."

"But what about the Sokovia agreements?" Wanda asks in concern. "You're an enhanced one."

Before you can answer, Val hums and grins. "Oh, I can see why you like that one, she's clever." You roll your eyes at the provocation, wishing you'd gone to see Val in person and could pull a gun on her to make her behave. Your boss stops typing and turns her full attention to the three of you. "Miss Maximoff has a very good point. If you wish to work with me at the moment, a CIA Agent contract, you would be legally obliged to sign the Sokovia Agreements."

You snort impatiently. "I'm not signing something that would force me to become a lab rat again! And certainly not something that says Wanda should be behind bars or-"

"Relax, I didn't say I was going to make you sign it." She cuts in. "And you're the one in a hurry for a new job after all. I don't understand the hesitation to do something that could be entirely bureaucratic if you stay out of the spotlight."

You hesitate, and exchange a quick glance with the two women next to you. Natasha shakes her head in the negative, but Wanda sighs.

"I'm pregnant."

Valentina chokes on her cigarette again, and Natasha covers her face with her hands. You don't know how to react, and Wanda keeps talking.

"Y/N is doing this for us, and if your partnership has meant anything other than work all these years, I know you'll help her."

But Valentina shakes her head, chuckling incredulously to herself. Wanda begins to worry.

"I don't want to appeal to sentimentality, I'm just asking you to be considerate. Job or not, no one is going to put my family at risk. I won't take it lightly if your people follow and threaten her again."

But Val gestures quickly. "A child, little bird? How can you keep this a secret from me?"

You sigh tiredly. "It wasn't exactly any of your business."

But Val leans over to pick something up from the table, and you frown as you recognize your old research file. "Except, well, it's entirely my business." Val retorts seriously, her eyes running over the pages she's leafing through. Until she lets out a small exclamation. "Yes, here it is. Strucker specifically wrote that you were infertile. And that was a disappointment of course, because everyone who gets an enhanced one, would love to make more of them."

Wanda looks at you with confusion, but you stand up as if you're going to choke on the attention, taking the cell phone with you to the other corner of the room.

"I know exactly what those pages say, you don't have to read them to me." You retort angrily. "Strucker had to believe that he couldn't have more of me, okay? I couldn't..." Your voice falters, but you control your emotions by swallowing hard. "I did what I had to do. The changes to my body so that he would never find out. So that no one would find out. But when I'm with Wanda, I just... I don't think about the past. I can breathe, Val. And it happened. And I'm asking you, if your mentoring has meant anything all these years, to give me a chance to be more than a goddamn puppet. Please."

Your boss remains silent, thoughtful, before sighing and offering you something like a sincere smile, however small.

"Ten years, little bird."

You frown in confusion. "What?"

"Ten years." She repeats. "That's the most I can offer you. Your money, a new identity, a fresh start. Think of it as extended maternity leave. The child will be old enough for boarding schools, and I'll charge you for the services."

"I-I..." You hesitate, looking at Wanda who has an expression that says she can't make this decision for you.

Valentina stands up, taking the phone with her. "I'll work on your contract carefully. Nick Fury is not a foolish man, little bird. He sees the world as I do, the dangers that surround us and that must come from the outside. I like the idea of a team working on my behalf, but it's too early for anything like that. Especially with everything that's happening with the first team." Val continues, and you swallow. She gives you a genuine smile. "And of course, all those years have meant something to me. You're the first person I'd trust with the job."

You want to tell her that this isn't the kind of meaning you'd like, but you think that work reliability is all Valentina can offer you. You nod and thank her and she says goodbye before hanging up.

Natasha thinks it best to leave you and Wanda alone for a moment, and when you sit down on the floor, Wanda sits down next to you. Silently, she holds your hand and rests her head on your shoulder.

"A lot can change in ten years." You murmur, and you don't need to explain for Wanda to understand your hope that you won't have to fulfill any contracts. She squeezes your hand tighter because the decision has already been made.

Your cell phone vibrates again, not with the CIA contract, but with your new documents and bank account filled with all the money you've earned as a mercenary. It makes your stomach turn with the feeling that you've just sold yourself again, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Wanda turns away to look at you and waits for you to do the same. Once your gazes are connected, she raises her hand to your face and pulls you in to kiss you softly on the lips.

"I'll always love you. Nothing will ever change that." She whispers against your lips, her forehead resting against yours. "I need you to promise that you'll always remember it."

You caress the wrist of the hand she holds to your cheek, and continue with your eyes closed. "I won't remember anything else."

She smiles, ending the distance again.

You kiss for a moment before you pull away to press your lips to her forehead and squeeze her hand.

"We'll be fine, Wanda. It's me and you, and just one baby. We can manage."

She smiles tenderly, nodding before hiding her face in the crook of your neck and sighing as she repeats the words. "You're right. Two of us, and a whole team of grumpy superheroes to handle one little baby. How hard can it be?"

Six hours later, Melina Vostokoff carried out Wanda's first ultrasound, which would reveal not one, but two little boys growing inside her womb. Both of them had a natural inclination towards superpowers.

But that's another story.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #heart shaped series #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines

517 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 10 months

Text

Ready, Rough and Unromantic | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley has a rough day at work, he knows the only thing that will make him feel better is his wife. But will you let him dominate you? Will you let him use you just how he needs to? He shouldn't have been surprised by your answer or your response to him.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, rough smut, dominant smut

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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

"I am so proud of you, Roo," you whispered, kissing his neck and zipping up his flight suit. It was early, the sun was just peeking through the bedroom curtains, but you were up helping him get ready for the first day of his duties.

Bradley would be spending the week as an assistant instructor at Top Gun. Few people would appreciate what an honor this was, but you understood it implicitly. You hadn't yet bothered to dress for the day, but you decided to wake up early to wish him luck.

He ran his fingers along your soft skin, completely bare for him except for your glasses and wedding rings, as he said, "I always want to make you proud, Baby Girl."

When Bradley tipped his head down to kiss your cheek, you giggled. The sound went right to the part of his brain that controlled his unbridled desire for you. All he had to do was squeeze your bare hip with his big hand, and you looked up into his eyes.

"Do we have time?" you asked softly before you bit your lip.

He kind of shrugged and grunted, but you were already lowering the zipper of his flight suit all the way down. Bradley let you take the lead on this one, and when you dropped to your knees, he was not disappointed.

The way you wrapped your pretty lips around his cock... yeah, there would always be time for that. "You're so fucking good," he groaned as you took him deep, and he hit the back of your throat. You sucked on him until you were gagging, then you pulled him out as a strand of your saliva dripped onto your tits.

"This is for good luck," you told him before you tilted your head and sucked on his balls until he was pulling on your hair a little rough.

"Oh," he groaned. "My wife doesn't mess around." His words were deep and gruff compared to the long, soft moans you made as your tongue swirled up the length of his cock.

You kissed the tip of him, whispered, "I love you," and then you gave him absolutely filthy head until he was cumming all over you. Your hollowed cheeks and warm hands had him fucking your face until cum dripped out of the corners of your lips. And when he spurted onto your glasses a second later, your giggle returned.

Bradley loved the sight of it enough that he wanted to make a mess with you later on when he had more time. Coat your glasses up real good. Maybe help you lick them clean.

"Fuck," he growled. "I need to leave, Sweetheart." Bradley pulled you to your feet and placed a soft slap to your ass. You kissed him hard one time, and he promised he'd take care of you later.

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

"Tally, tally!" called one of the younger recruits into the radio. But his teammate and wingman left him hanging long enough that Bradley got himself quickly into position. A few seconds later, Bradley got tone on him and eliminated him.

He was feeling great, and when the team landed along with Bradley, he took some time to show them where they went wrong and how they could improve. "As soon as you hesitate, it's over," he informed them, knowing very well that he had learned that lesson himself not terribly long ago.

The recruits filed back inside for lunch while Bradley joined Maverick and the other teachers to go over the plans for the afternoon. Honestly, he was having a great day, and when he was told he'd be taking another team up in the afternoon, he was looking forward to it.

But he must have been distracted. Or maybe he was the one who hesitated this time. Because as soon as Bradley managed to fly the two seater Super Hornet into a corner, he heard tone lock onto his own aircraft.

He had been outmaneuvered by a twenty five year old student.

Bradley landed his aircraft in a state of shocked silence, barely managing to communicate with the tower. He was mortified. And of course, as soon as he walked into the tower, everyone knew about it.

"It happens," Mav told him. "It was your first day instructing. You'll nail their asses to the wall tomorrow."

But Bradley could see the looks on the students' faces. He could practically hear Nat's voice through her text message.

Are you fucking kidding me, Rooster? They took you out?

He wasn't even sure how she heard about it from the simulation classroom. But seemingly everyone knew. It took everything inside him to keep his shoulders squared and his voice calm. Because inside he wanted to rage. He wanted back up in the air. He wanted to meticulously pick off every single other aircraft one at a time until he didn't feel like a joke anymore.

And that made him feel like maybe he wasn't ready to be an instructor yet.

"Fuck," he growled, slamming his locker door closed later. Absolutely nobody messed with him in the locker room. Nobody would even look at him. He was surrounded by dead silence everywhere he went.

As he stormed out to his Bronco, his skin was crawling with the burning need to prove himself. To dominate his surroundings. When he started up the engine, he took a few deep breaths that did nothing to calm the rising temperature of his humiliation. The blazing desire to conquer. Overpower. Defeat.

He needed to get home to you. Somehow he knew you were the only thing that would make him feel better.

By the time he pulled into the driveway, he was practically panting. You were already home from work. This was good. When he opened the front door, he called out, "Where are you?" His voice was raspy. His body was too hot.

"In the kitchen, Roo!" you replied. "Come tell me all about your day!"

You had taken your boots and socks off, but you were still in your uniform with your hair pulled back in a tight bun. And you were up on the kitchen counter changing the lightbulb that he had noticed kept flickering. This kind of shit was his job to take care of around the house. You shouldn't have to be up on the counter like this.

But as soon as he really looked at you, his cock throbbed with need. You looked at him over your shoulder as you finished with the new bulb. "What's wrong?" you asked softly, slightly alarmed. You must have seen the look in his eyes. He had never looked at you like this before.

Bradley knew you could make him feel better. If you let him do it. If you'd let him take his day out on you.

He snagged you off the counter and into his arms as you squealed, but you quickly gaped at him as he carried you to the bedroom.

"Bradley?" you whispered, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and searching his face.

He tossed you onto the bed and climbed on top of you, not bothering to remove his boots. You were silent, eyes wide and lips softly parted as he let you have his body weight. Your gaze was on his lips like you were expecting him to kiss you and be your sweet husband like he usually was.

"No," he growled, and your eyes darted up to his. You looked needy and uncertain. Bradley could tell you wanted to ask him what was going on. But then he read your last name on your nametag, annoyed that it didn't say Bradshaw yet. Very gently, he removed it, snapped it in half, and threw it across the room. Then he unbuttoned your shirt without a word and pushed it open wide.

Your nipples were straining against your black lace bra. You were very subtly rubbing yourself up against his hard cock. Your pupils were dilated. You wanted to get fucked.

"I hate your fucking name tag. Okay?" he asked, voice gruff as he wrapped his hand around the front of your neck. "I hate it."

You bit your lip and whispered, "You had a bad day."

"You told me you were going to get a new name tag," he grunted, pressing his hard cock against your thigh. "You said you submitted the paperwork for your name change."

"I did." Your voice was so needy. Bradley shoved his thumb into your mouth and watched as you opened wide and licked him.

"Get a new fucking name tag. And leave the light bulbs for me to change."

"I will," you said again with your mouth full of his thumb.

"Shut up," he growled, and your eyes went so wide as you moaned. "I'm not in the fucking mood. And I'm not going to be sweet. Not right now. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you cry. Use your pussy exactly how I want to."

You moaned around his thumb again.

"Tell me that's what you want," he demanded. You nodded your head, and he withdrew his thumb. "Fucking say it."

"I want it." Your voice was breathy but sure, and Bradley was going to dominate you until your tears and whining made him feel better. Because there was always only you who could fix him.

He practically ripped open the front of your khaki uniform pants to get to you. Bradley yanked the fabric down your legs and sent your pants across the room to meet your broken name tag. Tiny, black lace panties cut low on your hips. He could see your tattoo. He could tell you were wet through the fabric.

"You look like a little slut," he informed you. He watched you bite your lip as your back arched off the bed. "You shouldn't be this excited about being manhandled." Then the scrap of black lace met the same fate as your pants and the name tag.

Bradley had to commend you. You kept your mouth shut as he unzipped his flight suit, lowering the sleeves and pulling his cock free. You were silent as he rubbed himself through your wet slit. You didn't make a noise as he slowly slid himself inside your dripping wet pussy until he bottomed out. And only the softest sound escaped your lips as Bradley wrapped his big hands around your hips and lifted you slightly off the bed.

But you screamed when he held you in place, your ass in midair, and fucked you like you were his own personal toy. He slammed into your pussy with short, rough strokes. It was, in so many ways, the dirtiest thing he had ever done to you. And it felt to fucking good, Bradley could cum inside you right now. But your screams had him going harder, wanting to enjoy this feeling of control for as long as possible.

"Louder," he told you. But he didn't really even need to say anything as he tightened his grip on your flesh and fucked you until tears leaked from your eyes. Your cries filled the room, so loud his ears were ringing from it.

He withdrew from your body and let you fall to the bed. You were scrambling now, reaching for him. Looking up at him with tears in your eyes like you needed him to kiss you.

He flipped you onto your belly before ramming his cock inside you again. Your hands were all balled up in the pillowcase as you cried out against the bedding. The rapid slap slap slapping noise of his body dominating yours was one of the prettiest things he had ever heard. The way you were letting him calm his nerves and soothe his ego, well if he hadn't already married you, he'd do it today.

He palmed you softly before laying a solid smack right to the round of your ass. You moaned and sucked in a deep breath as he leaned down and put his lips next to your ear. "Tell me you want me to stop."

You shook your head and turned to look back at him, eyes red with tears. "Keep going," you hiccupped. "Please."

Bradley pushed your face back down into the pillow as you gasped and cried for him. He pumped his hips hard, grabbing at your thighs and your backside. Then he wrapped his forearm underneath you and pulled you up until you were on your knees for him. And how he had the perfect view of your body as you took him, full hilt, like a champ. You gorgeous pussy grabbed at him with each stroke, and Bradley spit on you where you were joined, making everything wetter.

"You like this, don't you?" he asked as you moaned and whimpered. "Huh? You actually fucking like this." He was so close as he spanked you just to feel you clench around him. "You fucking slut."

He pressed his lips to your ear again and slipped his hand up to shove his fingers into your mouth. You were moaning and slobbering all over his hand, crying into the pillow.

"You're perfect," Bradley growled as he filled you up with his cum. He fucked you with jerky strokes, pushing his load deeper and deeper until he guided you down flat on your belly with his hand on your ass. You were half crushed under his body weight, kitten licking his fingers when he realized he felt so good. So much calmer. You made everything better just like he knew you would.

But now he was slightly concerned that he had taken it too far, even with your permission. As he kissed along the back of your neck and ran his fingers softly up your arm, he whispered, "Are you okay, Baby Girl?"

Your voice was still a little watery with tears as you said, "I won't be able to walk tomorrow. And now I need to update my to-do list so I remember to order a new name tag. But that was hot. Do you feel better?"

Bradley wrapped you up in his arms and buried his nose against your skin. He felt perfect. "So much better. Thank you."

He helped you to your feet with the promise of a bubble bath. Then he assured you he could figure out how to make something for dinner. After he picked up all of the discarded clothing, he threw your name tag in the bathroom trash can while you sank down into the tub.

"I have an extra name tag in my office, you know," you told him with an eye roll and a smirk.

"I know," he replied, bending to kiss your nose. "And I have an extra one in my locker. You can have it. We can match. It'll be cute." And now all he could think about was you wearing his last name on your khaki uniform every day.

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

Okay, yes...okay, yep. That happened. Stay tuned for the upcoming (4th!) series with Roo and BG called Always Ever Only You! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper166

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

2K notes · View notes

vivwritesfics · 4 months

Text

No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty-Seven - The Hardest Thing Is Letting Go

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

1.9K words

Warnings: Funeral

guy's im still so sorry for this one, it's incredibly angsty - I promise I'll make things fluffier soon

Series Masterlist

"There was a time when I was afraid of the world. I was afraid of what was happening in my life and what it was becoming. I was afraid of the world we find ourselves being apart of."

Y/N had never addressed a room like this. Each and every mafia boss stared at her. Her own husband stared at her, with admiration in his eyes, Lando too. He was so proud of his little sister for doing something like this.

She shouldn't have to do it. The fact that she was standing in front of everybody to honour her best friend was astounding.

Tears were ready to fall, but Y/N wouldn't let them. She was going to be strong. For Oscar.

"There was one person who I could count on when I was this scared. He watched over me, kept me company and made me feel normal. There were times when I was breaking down and he'd play some music and get me to dance, taking my mind off of everything.

"That man was Oscar Jack Piastri."

She'd started writing this letter the moment that Carlos had gotten her back to Spain. It had started out as a letter to Oscar, with a lot more in it than she was willing to say in his funeral.

"Oscar wasn't a part of the Norris family," she continued. "In theory, we were never destined to meet. Every day since he first came into my life, I thank my lucky stars that we had him on loan from Webber."

Her hands shook as she turned the page.

"Without Oscar, I wouldn't be here today. He saved my life in so many ways. There was a time in my life, without him by my side, I would have ended it all."

The tears were free flowing now. Carlos stood from his seat and came to stand beside his wife, trying to gently coax her to sit down, but she wouldn't. She had a a speech to make.

She skipped over the next little section. That bit was for her and her only. "Oscar was the bravest of us all. He endured so much. He didn't have to be harsh or domineering to show just what power he had.

"But he was also kind and sweet." He was my soulmate, in the most platonic sense of the word.

Platonic, Y/N thought. But a small part of her was so sure, had circumstances been different, it would be Oscar she was in love with, Oscar who was holding her through the night. Even if they were still in with world of crime and mafia families, if Y/N didn't have to marry Carlos, she was sure she and Oscar would have been together.

She knew this before she got married, but she couldn't say anything. In another universe she would have loved Oscar.

"He saved my life more than once, and I will never be able to repay that debt," she said, wiping away the tears rolling down her cheeks. "He was the very best of us and our world will never be the same without him. Oscar-" But she stopped, just a second to compose himself. "Oscar..."

This time, when Carlos wrapped his arms around her, Y/N fell into him, crying against his chest. He held her for a moment, stroked her back and ran his fingers through her hair.

He moved Y/N behind him and addressed his fellow heads of family. "Oscar became a very dear friend of mine. Without him, I wouldn't have my beautiful wife standing by my side. To that, I say we raise our glasses-" Nobody had a glass in hand "-to a man we will sorely miss."

It was different to the funeral of Norris. The grief Y/N felt was different, harder to deal with.

After the funeral, Carlos took his wife home. They sat in the very back of the car as they were driven to the Webber plane hangar. Lando had organised food for everybody for after the funeral, but Y/N just couldn't be here. And Carlos knew it, too.

They sat beside each other on the jet, her head on Carlos's shoulder as she cried herself to sleep. Oscar was gone. The words still felt foreign to her.

It was incredibly long flight, with the couple stopping over in Malaysia. They had been the ones to take Oscar's body back to Australia, back to his family, to be buried. It meant a long trip for them, but they didn't care. After all that Oscar had done for them, this was the least they could do for him.

It was near a day later that they touched down in Spain. Their stay in Madrid had been short lived, just long enough to refuel the Spain. They should have stayed in Australia, the couple thought. But that was too painful.

Carlos drove them back to the house. He kept his hand on her leg as the radio played quietly, filling the space between them. They didn't have to speak; it wouldn't help anything for the time being.

"I wish he could have met baby Oscar," she whispered as they approached the gate in front of the house. She cradled her bump with one hand, the other on top of Carlos's.

Before the funeral, Carlos had insisted that they go to the hospital, for Y/N's first prenatal check up. They found out just how far along she was and the sex of the baby.

As soon as they found out they were having a boy, she knew they had to call him Oscar. Oscar Sainz, after the man that had saved his life. His middle name was chosen by his father. Pau, a Spanish name. OP Sainz. Their baby was OP Sainz.

Carlos drove through the gates when they opened and pulled into the garage. He opened the car door for Y/N and held her hand as they walked through the house. The house was different now, it felt colder somehow.

"I'm going to get us guard dogs," he said as they climbed the stairs.

Y/N nodded her head as she walked through the hall, heading towards the room that Carlos and Oscar had decorated for the baby. She hadn't seen it yet, just listened as Carlos told her about it to try and calm her down.

Her breath caught in her throat as she walked into the nursery. "You two did all of this?" She asked as she looked around the room, They had done everything, put up shelves and built the drawers and wardrobe. They'd painted the walls and set up the crib, including a little tee-pee tent full of cushions and blankets.

There was a blanket in the crib, one decorated with giraffes. Y/N picked it up and held it close to her chest as she looked around the room. Her husband and her best friend had done all of this for her baby. It was a living memory to Oscar, just like the baby would be.

"I'm thinking of painting his name on the door," said Carlos as Y/N turned towards him.

Y/N put the blanket back and fell against her husband, pressing her lips to his. "My wonderful husband," she whispered, her eyes closed as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly.

He took her hand and walked her out to the window. "Take a look," he said and she looked to where the golf course used to be.

Carlos had set up an entire play area for their child. If Y/N had the strength to cry, she would have. But she couldn't anymore, her body too exhausted.

"What would you like for dinner, mi corazon?" He asked, his finger trailing up her arm.

"I just want to sleep, Carlos," she croaked, exhausted.

That was fine, he'd let her sleep. Carlos followed her out of the nursery. He watched as Y/N turned left, heading back to her old room. That was right, he hadn't told her yet. "Querida, wait!" He called as he grabbed a hold of her arm. "This way."

Carlos led her into his bedroom, the bedroom they now shared. He'd moved all of her things in during those twelve weeks that he had been alone. He sat her on the bed and got her changed into her loosest and comfiest pyjamas. "Sleep, mi corazon. I'll have dinner for you ready when you take up," he said and pulled the sheets back.

Y/N climbed under it. She closed her eyes as Carlos kissed her forehead and left the room.

He spent the next few hours making his way through work. It was comforting, having things back to normal. Or, as normal as they could be. Most of the work he went through was sorting through his fathers affairs.

After three hours of working, there was a knock at the office door. He glanced up briefly and returned to his work. "Not now, madre," he muttered under his breath as he strode into the room.

"¿Y? ¿Ya no hablamos nuestra lengua materna?" She asked as she sat in the seat opposite him. (And? Don't we speak our native language anymore?)

Letting out a sigh, Carlos looked up from his work and placed his pen down. "Podemos hablar nuestra lengua materna, madre. ¿Qué te gustaría hablar?" (we can speak our mother tongue, mother. What would you like to talk about?)

"No hemos tenido una cena familiar desde que murió tu padre," she said, correcting her posture and sitting up straighter. (We haven't had a family dinner since your father died.)

Carlos shut his eyes for a moment. It was their first night back in the house since Y/N's kidnapping. "Por favor madre. No es una cena familiar a menos que mi esposa esté allí. Después de todo lo que él ha pasado, ella necesita tiempo." (please mother It's not a family dinner unless my wife is there. After everything he's been through, she needs time.)

He stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he began as he switched back to English. "I'm going to make my wife some dinner."

Carlos strode out of his office, leaving his mother where she was.

And he really did make Y/N dinner. He didn't ask the cooks to do it, he got stuck in and made her something to eat. It was surprising, just how good of a cook Carlos was. It was also surprising how much he enjoyed it.

He made her dinner, along with a side of buttered toast, just in case she didn't want what he made her. He walked it up to the bedroom and placed it on the dresser as he gently woke her up. He whispered her name and shook her shoulder gently. "Wake my, mi amor. I made you dinner."

Y/N opened her eyes. It was clear from the way she stared at him, eyes wide, that her sleep hadn't been peaceful. Carlos placed the plates in front of her as she sat her. "Here, querida," he said and pulled the cutlery from his pocket.

She dug into her dinner, eating it all (including the toast). "My wonderful husband," she said as he placed the plates back onto the dresser.

Carlos climbed onto the bed and sat himself beside her. He grabbed a hold of her and pulled her onto his lap. "I love you," he whispered, his forehead pressed against hers. "My beautiful wife. I'm never going to let you go."

She grabbed his cheeks and lifted his mouth to hers.

Taglist (CLOSED): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @formulaal @graciewrote @biancathecool @evans-dejong @sparklyperfectionstranger @venusesworld @goldenharrysworld @cassie0sstuff @gracielukey @watermelonworries @celesteblack08 @shobaes @chonkybonky

466 notes · View notes

bunnywritesjunk · 6 months

Text

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: You and König attend a holiday party.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI, vague racism, heat (omega verse)

Word count: 3.1k

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there. Smut.

A/n: Omg....Hi guys......it's me.....hey.......I am alive. This chapter is defiantly geared more towards my poc readers. Theres some angst that i'll revisit in a later chapter. Some comments are made. You'll see. Anyways, I can't promise I will be posting super consistently but I will definatly try to post more then I have been.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Five:

Your editor droned on about deadlines and writing engines as you ate some soup König got you earlier. You can hear the desperation through the computer screen. You'd be lying if you said you were listening. They'll get the pages when they get them, with you, no money. König sat on the couch waiting for your meeting to be done.

“I'll get the next chapter done, Frankie.” You said.

“You promise?” He was almost teary-eyed.

“Yes, I promise.”

You hung up and closed your laptop while sighing. You got up and walked over to your giant Alpha. You outstretched his arm, inviting you to cuddle. You obliged plopping yourself on his lap and resting your head on his chest. The November winds were seeping into the atmosphere slowly. You didn't mind. That meant the holidays were coming.

“The 141 is having an early holiday party. Everyone goes on leave one week into December, so we celebrate early. Would you like to go with me, Schatz?”

“Oh yes, that sounds lovely. When is it?” You asked delightedly.

“This weekend. It's a dressy event.”

The weekend was in four days. You haven't done your hair or dressed up in a while. You'd want a new dress for this especially with the cold, but you supposed you could make something work. As for your hair, it was time to hit up a YouTube tutorial for some ideas. König seemed to sense your internal struggle.

“We can go shopping today, I need a button-down shirt.”

“You don't have a button-down?” You asked a little amused.

“Never needed one.”

“Huh, well I also want to get my hair done. But, I've never been to a stylist here.” You started searching for braiders in the area, and to your surprise, there were some.

The prices were comparable to ones in the US so that gave you some comfort. König looked over your shoulder browsing the different styles along with you. Some he has seen and others he hasn't. He chimed in with some styles he thought would look cute on you every so often.

“Oh, she has an appointment available tomorrow.”

“Book it, I'll take you.”

“I can take myself it's alright.”

“Nein. I'll take you.”

You grumbled a bit at his stubbornness but gave in. You booked the appointment and placed your deposit.

“How much is it?” König asked.

“Um, all together with the deposit, one hundred fifty euros. I was also gonna tip but I forgot Europe doesn't do that.”

König replied with a 'hmm' and tapped away on his phone. Your phone dinged and you checked the notification.

'König has sent you € 150,00'

“Kö, You don't have to pay for this.”

“Why shouldn't I? You are mine, You want it, I like it when you look beautiful, so I pay.” He said simply.

König had a habit of paying for everything. You liked it but it made you a little uncomfortable. This wasn't how you'd be treated back in the States. Whenever you mentioned it, König would always rant about how American men were cheap and lazy. He also would mention how he has more money than he needs so spending it on you is fun. König loves to see your little face light up whenever he buys you something sweet, or a piece of jewelry you were looking at. He told you to get dressed for the shopping trip and you obliged, making sure you were bundled up for the cold weather.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you opted to shop for König's clothes first. Finding clothing that fits him nicely is a challenge with how tall and muscular he is. There were some stores specifically made for big and tall men that you went into first. One store only had bright floral patterned shirts and loosely fitting dress pants. Neither you nor your Alpha liked that. The next one had some nice boots in his size. They were a fancier version of combat boots. Finally, you found a simple black button-down shirt and slim tapered dress pants for him. You made him try it on before leaving the store.

My god...You had to keep yourself from drooling. The pants hugged his waist perfectly, and the shirt was just tight enough for you to see some muscle peeking through. König smirked at your reaction.

“You think this will look good with my sniper hood?” he asked.

“What?! You're gonna wear your hood and cover-up that gorgeous face? No way.”

“I don't show my face to anyone on base, Schatz.”

“Hmm, well you look good in anything so... I guess.” You pouted.

König got dressed and paid for his clothes. Nearby there were a few boutiques with dresses. You wanted something nice, but not too fancy. You didn't want to overdress. König was patient with you as you browsed a bunch of stores. Eventually, you found something you liked. It was a midi deep purple knit dress. It had elegant sleeves and looked like it could be dressed up or down. Perfect for a cold night. König sat on the bench of the fitting room as you tried it on. You came out and twirled giving him a full view of the dress.

“So?” You asked.

“Beautiful.” He motioned for you to come closer. When you did he placed a hand on your hip gingerly.

“I can think of many things I could do to you in this dress.” He said quietly.

“König!” You gave him a light slap on the arm and went back into the changing room embarrassed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you started prepping for your hair appointment. You had to wash your hair but the stylist said she could blow-dry it for you. You spent about an hour washing your hair and another detangling it. König kept you company on the couch as you combed and sectioned it out. You sighed and slumped on the couch once you were done. Your arms were a little sore but you were glad you were done. You put your bonnet on to keep your hair neat and moisturized. You made sure you had your tip ready and a book to read while you got your hair done. König stood at the door watching you pace around the apartment gathering your things.

The drive to the salon was quick and smooth. König gave you a kiss on the cheek before you exited the car. You opened the door to the building, and the smell of hair spray wafted into your nose. A tall woman greeted you as you walked in. Her hair was braided back into neat rows and her dark cheeks had a warm glow to them.

“Are you my twelve pm?” She asked with a smile.

“Yes, I am, nice to meet you.”

She guided you into a salon chair and got started. Her hands were quick, skilled, and gentle as she worked her way through your head of hair. In about two hours she finished. You admired your new do in the mirror and thanked your stylist profusely. König waited at a café down the street. You spotted him sitting peacefully at one of the outdoor tables, away from most other patrons. As you got closer he glanced up to meet and look at you. His eyes widened, taking in your new look. Although he had his mask on you could tell he was smiling under it. He stood up to greet you.

“You look beautiful, Liebe.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead careful to avoid touching your freshly done hair. You giggled bashfully and returned his kiss on his cheek.

The next few days went by quickly. You did some extra work and scheduled an editor meeting before the weekend. When Saturday rolled around, you were anxious. You wanted to make a good impression with your Alpha's coworkers. How do you act around military personnel? Your father never brought you around any of his military friends. As you got ready you just tried to keep an open mind and stay confident in yourself. Also, you will get to see Soap again. You slipped on your dress and spritzed a light mist of perfume.

You walked out of your room while looking through your purse to make sure you had all of your essentials. König was sitting on the couch but stood when he saw you. He was dressed and ready, looking over your form affectionately. You zipped around the dining room and kitchen making sure you had everything in order. König walked over to you, stopping you in your path. He slinked his hand around your waist pulling you out of your thoughts. He pulled you into his chest gently.

“Relax, Schatz.” He purred. You looked up at him and gave him a nervous smile.

“I think I left my wallet in my room. Do I need it? Should I bring a gift?” You rambled.

König pulled your wallet out from his back pocket and handed it to you. He shook his head and gave you a small smile. His sniper hood was hanging haphazardly over a dining room chair. He led you towards the door swiftly grabbing it and opening the door. You followed him out reluctantly.

The drive to the base was uneventful aside from your occasional worrying that was quelled by your alpha quickly. You can't help but feel more on edge than you usually would, but you can't put a finger on why. König pulled up to the massive, barbed wire-lined fence. A man in full military gear and a large gun strolled up to the window. You hadn't noticed that König out his hood in a while back. He rolled the window down and quickly flashed his ID to the soldier. The man nodded and waved his hand in the air. The gate slid open almost painfully slowly. König placed a hand on your thigh as he drove slowly through the base. It helped calm you for the time being.

There was a large building with a few dozen cars parked outside. König Parked the SUV rather haphazardly a good distance away from the entrance. When you opened the door you heard faint music coming from the building and lots of voices and laughter. Your alpha lapped the car and met you on the passenger side. You started to walk towards the door but he stopped you.

“What is the matter, Schatz?” His eyes softly gazed down at you.

“Nothing is wrong, I'm fine.” You said quickly.

“If you are uncomfortable, we can go.” He gently caressed your cheek., his scent enveloping your senses.

“I'm ok, I'm just a little nervous.” Deep down you knew something was off, but you were confident you could get through this night.

“Shcatz, You forgot your collar.” König said nonchalantly.

You gasped and your hand flew up to your neck covering your exposed scent glands.

“Oh no! Why didn't you tell me? Now I'm gonna stink up a storm in there.” You turned around embarrassed and even more on edge.

Your Alpha said nothing, he simply opened the back door of the car and pulled out a small black bag before closing the door. He spun you around by the waist to face him waving the bag in front of you. You glanced at him unsure before taking the bag. König gave you a small nod waiting for you to open it. Inside was a large square jewelry box. When you opened it it held the most beautiful gold metal collar. The one you looked at from the boutique a while ago.

“König....” You truly didn't know what to say. Tears pricked your eyes but you quickly wiped them away and replaced them with a smile.

“Thank you, Alpha.” You said while wrapping your arms around his middle.

He held you close and kissed the top of your head through his hood gently. He pulled away and took the collar out of its box. He clasped it around your neck locking it with the provided key. It fit perfectly, you could barely tell it was there. König held the small key out for you to take but you shook your head.

“Keep it safe for me Alpha.” You said giving him a warm smile.

Although you couldn't see his face, you could tell he was happy you trusted him with the key. König held out his elbow for you to hold and led you towards the event. You were still nervous but you brushed it off, you had someone there to protect you. The large hall was buzzing with conversation. Most people were sitting around in large groups having conversations and others were at the bar. There were string lights hung all around the ceiling giving the place a relaxing atmosphere. König led you to the bar eager to get a drink. Parties are not you or your Alpha's natural element.

He ordered a beer for himself and a gin and tonic for you. As you waited you glanced around taking in the different people. You were probably one of the very few omegas. You could tell who was military and who wasn't very easily. Some were still in uniform, others wore masks or dog tags. Some soldiers brought a plus one but it was a minority. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching. You turned to see a familiar mohawk.

“Hey! There they are!” Soap exclaimed pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. You could smell the alcohol on him.

“Hey, soap.” You eked out while being squeezed.

Soap turned to König and gave the large Apex a hug as well. König grunted, a little uncomfortable with the contact but patted his back affectionately.

“We've been waiting for you two to get here, everyone wants to meet the Colonel's Mrs.” His Scottish accent was thick and slightly slurred.

The bartender set your drinks down and you quickly scooped yours up and took a sip. Soap led both of you away toward a group of men. You lingered behind König slightly allowing him to greet the group first. Soap announced your name loudly sparing König of the burden. You waved shyly giving everyone a small smile. Everyone greeted you and your Alpha before returning to the conversation they were having. You were grateful the attention on you didn't last as you could sip your cocktail and listen to the drunken ramblings of the soldiers.

As the night dragged on, you met various people. You chatted with Ghost a bit and met Captain Price, as well as Gaz. Though the drunker people go the more rowdy things become. You sat on a chair near the group, only on your second drink. Your Alpha was loosening up after four. Soap suggested they go out to the field and play football, challenging Ghost to a team match. The whole group along with some others from the party joined them outside. König glanced over at you.

“Will you be ok if I join them?” He asked gingerly.

“Of course, go have fun.” You gave him a reassuring smile.

You watched him follow his coworkers out of the door into the frigid night. You decided to hang out at the bar as your drink was almost done. Although the night has been fine so far there was still something nagging in the back of your head. You plopped down on one of the bar stools and ordered another drink. Good thing this event had an open bar. You scrolled on your phone for a while not noticing how fast an hour has passed. An Alpha sat on the bar stool next to yours sighing loudly. You didn't bother acknowledging him as many people have sat there in the time that has passed.

“It's a nice night huh? Not too cold.” The guy said in a European accent you can't place.

You looked up from your phone. “Oh, are you talking to me?”

“Yeah, I am. So uh, are you a new recruit or?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh no, I'm just a visitor.” You glanced back at your phone hoping he would leave you alone.

“I've never seen an omega like you.”

“An omega like me?” You looked at him puzzled.

“Yeah, you're so exotic. I thought omegas like you have to stay in your own countries.” He said while taking a sip of his drink.

“Well, that's rude and extremely ignorant.” You scowled at him.

“Come on, it's a compliment. I mean I knew your kind your be spicy but damn.” He chuckled.

You took that as your cue to leave. And you stood up from the bar your felt a tug on the crown of your head.

“I mean, is this even your real hair?” He rubbed the hair he grabbed in between his fingers.

You ripped away from his grip. “What is wrong with you?! Don't touch me!” You yelled. Everyone at the bar turned to look in your direction.

“Relax, I'm just joking around.” The Alpha said trying to diffuse the situation.

“You don't touch a random person's hair, who raised you?!”

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder gently from behind. The Alpha you were confronting turned pale.

“Schatz? What did he do?” Your Alpha asked lowly.

You turned to face König anger still written all over your face. As angry as you were, you wanted this to be a teaching moment for this young Alpha. You turned back to the Alpha who was standing up now sweat forming on his face.

“Nothing Alpha, this guy just needs to watch where he's going, right?” You eyed him carefully.

“Yes! Yes, I'm very sorry miss.” He looked down at your feet.

You looked up at König who seemed unconvinced. He was staring daggers into the young Alpha. You saw König take a deep breath closing his eyes while doing so. When he opened them he looked down at you.

“Time to go, it's a long drive home.” He placed a hand on the small of your back and led you out.

Some people glanced in your direction as you left. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You hurried to the car in an effort to get out of the cold. König opened your door for you and helped you slide into the passenger seat.

“I forgot something inside, I'll be right back.” He said quickly shutting the door and storming back inside the building.

You couldn't tell if he was about to torture that soldier or not. But you did what you could, if he gets in trouble it's his own fault. König came back out no more than two minutes later. As he started the car, you got cozy relishing in the heated air.

“What did you forget?” You ask him.

“I had a project for Ghost, I had to tell him about it.”

“Hmm.” You responded, not buying it completely.

As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

König shook you awake gently. “We're home.”

You stirred and sat up stretching gently. You felt warm, a little too warm. Did you drink that much? You followed König into the apartment and kicked off your shoes at the door. That's when the cramp hit you. It was so painful it made you dizzy causing you to stumble. König caught you by the arm and ushered you to the couch.

“Schatz? You're burning up.” He laid you down and hurried to the kitchen.

You felt the sweat forming on your brow. Your heat had come early. You whined into the couch cushions trying to breathe through the dull achy pain. König brought some water and sat you up to drink.

“Why didn't you tell me your heat was coming?” he said concerned.

“Early...it came early.”

taglist: i hope i got everyone

@that-fangirl-1106 @itsryuken

@midwesternwitchery @hiken-no-stark @rouge-swears

@gxdsmonsters @the-chaotic-cow @a-gay-cryptid @smutslutsposts @wybwtjmiadz

@somanyminidragons

@tizylish @thychuvaluswife

@luvamps @ghostslittlegf @justkillme2005

@fishballgr3mlin @mitrr @simpytheshrimpy69 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @sweet-can-of-beer @immajustlikeok @dinonacho

@undeadgod @multy-fandom-lover @cloudyyjanee @bobafett-tea @mxkaylaj @evilcherries

@warrior-of-justice

@banshee-darling @beebeechaos @lolitsthings @backgroundgirl887 @jayhoneybeecomb @flooftoof @virginalsacrifice @magicleopard69 @johfaam @warrior-of-justice @jesses-wonderland

@zalyluvvs @backgroundgirl887 @beebeechaos @bitchoftoji @urfavsunkissedleo @emmbny @capricorn-anon @sigthechild @justkillme2005 @ghostslittlegf @fieldsofbats @magicleopard69 @cassiecasluciluce @kenz-ee @mysticfire0435 @floralarcher

#konig fluff #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig x you #konig x reader #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #könig #alpha könig x reader #alpha könig #alpha konig #alpha/beta/omega au #könig mw2 #cod mwii #könig x reader #könig cod

634 notes · View notes

pinkynana · 1 year

Text

cw : stepbro!nahyuck x fem reader, stepcest, mention of somnophilia (but not written in detail), pussy eating, threesome, blowjob, degradation, praising, unprotected sex, breeding kink, breast play, dumbification, tell me if i missed anything

a/n : i'm sorry for being away for a month. i'm gonna disappear for another month, i think. sorry. also, this was an anon request that i wanted to do longer (and might be a series)

living away from your parents bcs of college was normal. what (didn't) irritate you are your two annoying step brothers, hyuck and jaemin, who constantly visit you. and by constantly, this means everyday and sleepovers during the weekend. you always say they bother you but it actually gives you company. living alone can be scary for young women like you.

one morning, you bent down to grab your bowl in the lower cabinet. what surprises you is the feeling of jaemin's hips meeting yours. you squeaked and gasped when he even pulled you closer to him. "good morning. having breakfast?" he asked innocently.

"yeah, you want some?" you pushed him away gently. "sure. you'll make some for me?" you nod, taking two bowls instead of one. "how do you like to eat your oatmeal?" you finally turn around to see your step brother's face.

"aren't you such a good girl?" you felt shivers run down your spine when he slid his finger down from your chin to your jaw. you didn't know why he was looking at you with such eyes. "huh?"

"asking me what i like." this time, he trapped you in between him and the counter behind you. both his arms next to your hips and his head tilted. you blinked, feeling a weird hot tension.

"i like mine with honey." you said with an awkward smile, trying to break the tension in between you two.

"sweet." he kisses your cheek.

he does that all the time. so does your other step brother, donghyuck. you thought it was just a sweet gesture between step siblings but these days it felt different.

jaemin finally left you alone so you could make him the breakfast you promised. but just few minutes after, donghyuck came along as he smacked your ass with no guilt whatsoever. "hey!" you frowned. "that's not very nice." you weren't sure why you felt embarrassed. siblings joke around like this all the time, right? including step siblings, right?

donghyuck licked his lips before saying "you've no plans today?" he asked, looking at you in your pajamas still. he knew that if you had plans, you'd wash up before breakfast or sometimes you'd just grab breakfast outside. but you're here in the kitchen with no signs of going out.

"it's a lazy day, i think." you shrugged. "how's this?" you scooped a little bit of your honey oatmeal to his face, asking him to have a taste. if only you knew that he couldn't care less about whatever the fuck you're cooking. so he pushed away your spoon.

"wanna have plans with me?"

"i said it's a lazy day."

he rolled his eyes. "yeah, the plan is to have a lazy day together."

"i don't mind but you know, if you're gonna stay here might as well-"

"i'll be in your room." and there goes your hopes of having your brother to pay rent with you since they've been hanging around a lot with you. of course you love them but it's a capitalist world you live in.

"jaemin, if you don't get here and eat your oatmeal, i'll put strawberries in it."

"we can just watch movies?" hyuck suggested. "that's boring." jaemin pushed him slightly. "i can teach you guys how to crochet? or maybe cross stitch?" you smiled at your own suggestion.

"honey, it's a lazy day, remember?" hyuck looked at you.

"fine, i'll just take a nap. you guys do whatever you want." you stomp your feet to your room, acting upset to your step brothers.

"look what you did, you upset our baby sister!" jaemin complained. "shut up, let her sleep. she said we could do anything." donghyuck smirked, which made jaemin immediately understand his ideas.

having a dream where both your step brothers grope you in your sleep shouldn't feel that good. waking up with wet panties with no one by the side of your bed shouldn't feel this lonely. is lonely even the word you're looking for?

you wonder if it's a bad thing that you want to touch yourself to the thought of those two. you've never touched yourself for someone in real life. it's always fictional men that make you feel this way. so why is it that your brothers are the ones you thirst for at the moment?

riding your pillow with nothing but your undergarments on while thinking of hyuck's fingers that touched you in your dreams. the kisses that jaemin gave you on your stomach, your breast. thinking that your step brothers had leave your apartment, you let out loud moans, calling out their names.

you felt your body jump when suddenly your bedroom door opened with jaemin and donghyuck. you don't know if it's a good or a bad thing that donghyuck literally had his dick out, jerking himself off. you blinked in confusion.

"i thought you left." you said.

"when our baby is this sexually frustrated? of course not." jaemin held your chin up so you'd look at him. embarrassment was the only thing you felt at the moment. you probably looked like a disgusting whore to your brothers.

they loved it.

"want us to help you, baby?" though you were ashamed, you couldn't help but say "please."

"up, now." you sat up so jaemin could remove the pillow you were riding. he sees the wet patch on it and on your panties. "dirty girl." he smirked. "i gotta clean you up. lay down for me, pretty." you obliged.

as your head fell on your pillow, you see donghyuck still jerking off on his dick. it made your mouth water. his cock looked so delicious to you.

while you fantasized of giving hyuck a blowjob, jaemin had taken off your panties and gave your pussy a kiss. "you can move whenever you want, okay?" he said before finally devouring your nasty clit. with just the feeling of his lips there, you were already pulling his hair and moaning like a bitch.

"fuck, you look like a cheap slut like that." you hear donghyuck said. "ride his fucking face, whore." you weren't even aware that you obeyed donghyuck's order. you moved your hips on jaemin's lips like they had their mind of their own. "wanna suck you.." you looked at your step brother who was degrading you.

"oh, you really are a fucking whore." hyuck was nowhere gentle with you. he pushed your face down into your pillows as he climbed on your bed, kneeling in front of your face before giving you what you thirsted for.

in just a few seconds, hyuck was already thrusting his cock into your throat. "that's right. since i made you cum in your sleep you gotta make me cum in your mouth, got it?" and when he said that, you couldn't help but smile.

so what happened before wasn't a dream? they really did touch you while you were asleep. or could this situation still be in your dream.

"so fucking sexy. you look so sexy smiling with my cock in your mouth. of course i gotta reward you with my cum, right? wanna swallow my cum, huh? you dirty slut?"

before you could nod, you felt jaemin's dick enter you hole that he made out with earlier. and suddenly everything felt so good. you were practically in heaven. you couldn't believe that you questioned your morals while you masturbated earlier. who cares about morals when you could have big dicks inside you?

"her real reward is my cum in her womb. gonna make sure she gets pregnant today." jaemin said as he thrusted into you harshly. "my good girl. always obeying me. always make me feel good." your head went dizzy with the praising from jaemin and degradation from donghyuck. "you're squeezing me so tight, baby. that feel good?" jaemin's balls hitting your cunt felt like the thing that has been missing in your life. you finally understood the tension you felt from earlier this morning.

you wanted to have sex with your step brothers.

"gonna cum." hyuck grunts, still thrusting at your mouth. "gonna cum and you're gonna swallow, alright? be the fucking whore that you are." donghyuck holds your face on his last thrust, keeping it steady like that so he could cum deep in your throat. he sighed once he released his hot liquid and pulled out. "what are you?" he strokes your hair.

"lee donghyuck's cumslut." your answer gave you a kiss from your step brother where he could even taste his cum on your lips. you then smiled happily before you continued to moan from the feeling of jaemin's cock throbbing inside you.

the moans went louder as his hips went faster. it didn't help that donghyuck was now sucking on your bouncing tits.

"fuck fuck fuck, need to fill this hole up." jaemin groaned as you felt him pour his cum into your pussy. it was no surprise that you loved every feeling of it.

as jaemin pulled away and went to the bathroom, hyuck stayed right there with you, still sucking on your boobs.

"dude, i'm going home." the both of you hear jaemin half yell from outside of your room.

"yeah, you go do that. i'll have fun with my little fucktoy." donghyuck intertwined his fingers with yours, adjusting his position so his dick meets your pussy.

#nahyuck smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #jaemin smut #tw stepcest

2K notes · View notes

zablife · 2 months

Text

Now You Know the Truth (Part 4)

Summary: As you begin an uncertain period of recovery, Tommy is left to decide what's best for you.

Author's Note: This is an accidental series 🙈! For some reason I can't stop thinking about this couple. Ty to all my lovely readers who have kept me inspired by leaving such wonderful comments!

Warnings: child loss, manipulative behavior

Part 3

“Who am I?” Tommy repeated your question back to you in a hoarse whisper, his throat going dry as he realized you didn't recognize him. "I'm your husband, Thomas Shelby," he issued forth with authority, feeling a chasm open within his chest at the thought of you belonging to anyone but him. His hurt manifested in a sudden flicker of rage behind his eyes, causing you to jerk your hand away. The speed of your reaction surprised you, but not so much as the instinctual sense of fear coursing through you.

Pulling the blankets up to your chin protectively you muttered, "I'm sorry, I-I'm trying, but I can't seem to recall."

You sounded so weak and helpless before him, Tommy softened instantly at your apologetic tone. All the tension he held in his shoulders fell away as he offered a word of encouragement. "That's alright," he said gently. "Take all the time you need."

"Thank you," you sniffed appreciatively, feeling the throbbing ache return to your temples. No matter how you tried, you couldn't place him. While he had a handsome face, you knew you'd never seen him before in your life and that shook you to your core. The deep emotion behind his words made the situation worse, knowing he expected you to speak with equal passion. The whole ordeal was rather taxing in its complexity and you felt yourself becoming tired yet again.

"I think I need to rest," you informed him as you felt your eyelids grow heavy with sleep.

"Of course," Tommy replied. "If you need me, I'll be right outside."

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

"What are sayin'? She don't remember nothin'?" Arthur asked, leaning in to study Tommy's perplexed expression.

"No," Tommy said simply as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Maybe it's for the best," Arthur offered quietly.

Tommy snapped his head sharply as he demanded, "What the fuck did you say?"

Arthur ducked his head submissively as he mumbled, "Sorry, Tom, I meant the accident. She shouldn't have to think about it."

"No," Tommy murmured as he stood deep in thought. Then his face slowly began to lift as he considered his brother's words. "You're right. Perhaps it is better this way."

"How do you mean?" Arthur prodded, suspicious of Tommy's sudden change in demeanor.

With a glimmer in his eye, Tommy proclaimed, "I couldn't make her understand before, but now I have another chance. It's a whole new beginning."

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

You opened your eyes with a start as the gravel crunched beneath the tires, signaling your arrival at Arrow House. "We're here, darling," Tommy announced triumphantly. Hastening to open your door, he helped you to stand with the utmost care.

Despite the dreary weather, you squinted against the daylight, unaccustomed to being outside for any length of time. Leaning into Tommy's strong arms, you whimpered at the pain at the base of your badly bruised spine.

"I'll have Frances bring the morphine as soon as you're in bed," Tommy promised in a soothing voice. You smiled up at him, wondering how someone could love you so completely. Though you still couldn't recall a single memory of your life together, you'd come to trust his recollections as replacement. He'd dedicated the better part of a month sharing photographs and stories at your bedside to ensure you knew every detail of your charmed life.

In that time, you also spoke of your future, with Tommy frequently expressing his desire for a son. The tenderness in his voice convinced you to lean into the first kiss you'd shared since your accident, a languid embrace which set you ablaze with need.

However, renewed anxiety and emotion swirled in your gut as he informed you of news from the doctor. Nuzzling his nose against yours Tommy promised, "We can try again soon. With any luck, you'll be pregnant again before Christmas." He lovingly rubbed a thumb along the base of your neck and you only hoped he couldn't feel the way your pulse thumped in terrified response.

"It's going to be everything we ever dreamed of," Tommy mused, oblivious to your panic.

Part 5

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

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@lovemissyhoneybee

@red-riding-wood

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@tommydoesntpayforsuits

@look-at-the-soul

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@watercolorskyy

@cillmequick

@moonshooter

@mrs-bellingham

@allie131313

@peakyscillian

@runnning-outof-time

@babayaga67

@kmhappybunny240

@babaohhhriley

@garrison-girl-08

@embystarr-blog

@fairypitou

@brummiereader

@call-sign-shark

@ladespedidas

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts

@skydisneylover

@aesthetic0cherryblossom

@cece45450

@julesandro

@stevie75

@mrsnbradshaw2023

@scarlet-sunflowers

@galactict3a

@sagecodm

@pono-pura-vida

@lets-pringless

@ladyzee27

@jaymcdowell

@thegreatdragonfruta

@peaky-as-a-peach

@multifandomwriter56

@reader-hes

@wisteriaandwafers

@cycbaby

@trixie23

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby x reader #dark!tommy shelby #Tommy Shelby

260 notes · View notes

cicimunson · 2 years

Text

Ruin Me Part 2

Series Summary: Eddie is obsessed with you, but tries to hide it because he knows you’re a virgin and he doesn’t want to corrupt you or risk your friendship.

Chapter Summary: Eddie's been avoiding you and you call him out. He is quick to remedy the situation.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Virgin Female Reader

Warnings: EDDIE RIDES OUR THIGH LOVES. Little bit of angst in the beginning, sexual situations.

Word Count: Almost 2k

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

It'd been a few days since you'd hung out with Eddie. You saw him in class and at lunch, but other than that, he’d barely spoken to you. You could tell he was avoiding you.

Maybe you'd come on too strongly the other day. Eddie had licked and sucked your tits until your nipples were practically chafed, jerking himself off until he came all over his hand.

He wouldn't let you look at the mess. He didn't even kiss you afterwards, although you'd been writhing from his touch, practically begging him to meet your lips with his own. He'd cleaned himself up and apologized several times.

"I'm sorry. I took it too far. I feel terrible."

He held you close, whispering apologies over and over while kissing your cheeks and forehead repeatedly.

"Eddie, it's okay. I promise there's nothing to feel bad about. I liked it."

"You're so sweet, you don't deserve this. I'm the devil."

He ushered you back out the door, looking guilty and remorseful despite you insisting it was fine. He didn't even say bye, just murmured he was sorry once more before shutting the door in your face.

You knew that the two of you had crossed a line you couldn't come back from. Not that you wanted to. Sure, you were a virgin. And yeah, calling you innocent was pretty accurate. But something about Eddie made you want to change all that. You knew he felt the same. It was just getting the scales to tip in your favor at this point.

You catch up with him in the parking lot after school. "Munson, wait up!"

He turns to you, his expression unreadable. "Oh, hey." He greets you half-heartedly.

"Are we still on for tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Studying for O'Donnell's final?"

"Oh, yeah, shit, I forgot. I kinda have plans."

He made plans. He forgot about you. That fucking hurts.

"Wow. Okay, then." You turn to walk away.

"Don't be mad." He pleads

"It's fine, Eddie. I get it. I'll leave you alone."

He sighs. "Come on, Y/N, it's not like that."

"You haven't spoken to me in almost three days. And now you're blowing me off. It is like that. But it's cool. No worries"

He grabs your shoulder and turns you to face him.

"Y/N, I feel guilty as shit for what happened the other day. I shouldn't have touched you like that, shouldn't have made you watch me. I just…I know if I'm alone with you it's gonna happen again and maybe go further than it needs to."

"You didn't make me do anything, Eddie. I could have walked out anytime. I chose to stay."

"Because I'm corrupting you."

"No, because I'm tired of being treated like a little girl by everyone. Because you make me feel things I haven't felt before. Because I liked what I saw you doing. It's not about you and what you do, Eddie. It's about me and what I want. I'm my own person and I can make my own decisions."

He sighs, running a thumb over your bottom lip. "And what do you want, sweetheart? You don't even know what you're asking for."

"So teach me. Better you than some jock or someone from your club, right?"

His eyes narrow. "I would kill anyone that tried."

"I'm not going to stay your sweet Y/N forever, Eddie." You lick the pad of his thumb that's gliding over your lip.

Eddie's breath hitches.

You swirl your tongue around his finger.

He moans softly and pushes his thumb past your lips. You suck on it and he pulls you close.

"What are you doing to me, Y/N?" He murmurs into your hair. "My resolve is hanging by a thread."

You whimper around his finger and he groans, knowing he can't keep fighting the urge to make you his.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and replaces it with his tongue. You tug on the lapels of his jacket, wanting him closer, wanting to feel him pressed against you.

He breaks away from the kiss after a minute or two. "As much as I'd love to keep going, we should probably get off school property."

You giggle. "Oh yeah, probably."

"Can I give you a ride home?"

"Mhm, thank you."

You and Eddie climb into his van and head down the road. You watch as he drums on the steering wheel, singing under his breath to the Black Sabbath song blaring from the speakers.

Feeling bold, you reach out and take one of his hands, pressing a small kiss to his knuckles before laying it on your lap. Eddie squeezes your bare thigh, his thumb slipping underneath your skirt to trace circles on your skin.

Your shiver and he grins, glancing over at you. "You okay?"

"Mhm. I'm fine."

He lets his hand wander a little higher. "Are you sure?"

You squirm under his touch. His hand is warm and his cool rings are a nice contrast to the heat. You clench your thighs together.

Eddie smirks knowingly.

"So needy. So cute." He murmurs to himself as he pulls up in front of your house.

"No one's home if you want to come in." You try to sound nonchalant.

He raises an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Mhm. We could get a snack or something before you have to attend to your other plans."

"Oh, I didn't tell you? Those plans got canceled."

You giggle. "On the car ride over here?"

"Yup. They sent a smoke signal, you probably didn't see it." He deadpans with a wink.

You play along. "Oh, makes sense."

Once inside, you offer Eddie a coke and some pretzels. He guzzles it down, soda running from the corner of his lips. You wipe it away with your thumb and then stick your thumb in your mouth.

Eddie watches you, fascinated. Everything you did lately seemed sexual to him. The way you giggled, the skirts you wore around him, the way you looked at his mouth when he talked.

To his surprise, you take a step towards him and brush your lips against his. He kisses you back softly and carefully, oh so damn carefully, struggling with the urge to grab the back of your head and slide his tongue in your mouth.

Your hands slip underneath his shirt and he groans. "You're so sweet, baby. So damn sweet."

"I'm not sure how to touch you." You admit. "I wanna learn, though."

"Do you ever touch yourself?"

You look down, clearly flustered.

"Tell me. Do you ever rub yourself?"

Just tell him. It’s nothing to be embarrassed of.

"I have before, yes."

"How did it make you feel?"

You still can't meet his eyes. "Really good." You admit.

He lifts your chin. "Did you think of me?"

You squirm under his gaze.

"Answer me."

You know there's no point in lying, Eddie can read you like a book. "Yes. I've thought of you while doing it."

He smiles, looking almost smug. You can see the lust in his eyes.

"Eddie?"

He takes a step back and lifts you on the kitchen table.

"Show me what you do."

"What?"

"When you touch yourself. Show me how you do it."

You blush. "Eddie-"

He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your thigh, then another one a little higher. He pushes your skirt up as he goes, until he's kissing your hip bones and your skirt is hiked all the way up.

You moan softly and run your finger through his hair.

He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties. "Can I take them off you?"

You nod and lift your ass so that he can pull them down. He sticks them in his jeans pocket before kissing down your leg and back up the other one, pushing them apart.

You realize your pussy is on full display for him.

He kisses right above your pubic bone and you gasp. He takes your hand and guides it between your legs.

"Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me."

You can't resist him. You both know it. You start moving your fingers in slow circles on your clit.

"Feel good, angel?"

"Mhm." You rub a little faster and moan softly.

"Do you put fingers in yourself?"

You nod.

"Let me see."

You groan as you ease a finger into your pussy. You're wet, wetter than usual, and you know it's because he's watching you.

His intense gaze is fastened between your legs, his tongue flicking put to lick his lips.

"Can you add another finger, sweetheart?"

You push another finger inside you and moan his name.

Eddie's eyes snap up to your face.

"Say it again. Say my name."

"Eddie."

"Again."

"Eddie."

He pulls you closer to the edge of the table. "Keep doing that. Keep touching yourself."

"Do you want to touch yourself, too?"

"I'm gonna do something else."

He places a leg on either side of your thigh and rubs against you.

You'd heard about thigh-riding before. Nancy had talked about riding Steve's thigh before she gave him her virginity. You didn't realize it was something boys could do, too.

Eddie grunts as he grinds down on you, the zipper of his jeans digging into your skin. You secretly hope it leaves a mark. Branding you as his.

Eddie watches your fingers move faster, listens to the sound of your pussy getting wetter and your breathing speeding up.

He wants more than anything to replace your fingers with his cock, but he knows it's too soon. It's something that needs to be worked up to.

He can't take his eyes off you as he shamelessly ruts against your thigh. He had told himself he wasn't going to worry about getting off, that he'd be content to jerking off at home picturing this moment, but he couldn't hold back. He needed to come with you.

"I'm so close." You moan, your fingers moving frantically. "Eddie, I'm gonna…"

"That's right, sweet girl. Come for me. You can do it."

You cry out his name as your whole body tightens. The orgasms you'd had before were nothing compared to this. It slams into your body so fast your vision goes spotty. Your cunt spasms around your fingers and you fall back on the kitchen table, still working your fingers furiously because the sight of the man falling apart while he grinds into you makes you want to keep going, to keep cumming.

Eddie feels his cock twitch and he knows he's close. He snatches your hand from between your legs and sucks on your fingers, the taste of your pussy sending him over the edge.

Rather than cum in his boxers, he lets open his fly and shoots his load on your leg.

You gasp when the hot liquid hits your skin.

Eddie lays on your stomach, gasping.

You reach down and touch your thigh, bringing your fingers up to examine them.

Eddie's eyes nearly bulge out of his head when you lick them.

"Jesus Christ." He presses his forehead to yours. "I say I'm your damnation, but I'm starting to think you might be mine."

You kiss him softly. "I guess we'll be damned together."

#stranger things eddie #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic

4K notes · View notes

punkshort · 4 months

Text

look what we've become - ch.4

Chapter Summary: You finally get a chance to talk things out with Joel, but when you volunteer to take Ellie back to her family, it causes more tension.

Chapter Warnings: language, talk of parental death, discussions of pregnancy and marriage, brief mention of slavery, angst, Ellie being a cockblock, Joel is a little mean at the very end

WC: 8K

Series masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It was the end of August, and it felt like the summer saved the worst for last. The heat from the sun laid over the town like a thick blanket, making it nearly difficult to breathe when you were working, forcing you to take more breaks than usual. Working outside in the garden attached to the greenhouse was actually more comfortable than being inside the building itself, the humidity so stifling you could almost reach out and touch it, but you still chose to take your breaks inside. Right in front of the little oscillating fan. Pulling your hair off your neck, you ran a damp cloth across your neck and chest, collecting all the sweat that had accumulated there as the weak breeze from the fan dried your skin.

You were alone at work all week. A bitter part of you thought it fitting, considering how lonely you felt at home, too. But it afforded you a lot of time to think. And cry. But eventually, the tears stopped, your body too depleted and your head too sore to keep it up. Now all that was left was the loneliness and the guilt. The more you replayed that day in your mind, the worse you felt. The look on his face and the way he tried to hold back his tears haunted you at every turn. The pain in his voice, pain that you caused, unforgettable.

And you deserved it, the way he left. You deserved so much worse. He did so much for you, and this was how you repaid him? He saved you, time and time again. He found Jackson, he built you a home, built you a life. And he hardly asked for anything in return.

It shouldn't have come to this. You should have been an adult, talked to him before it was too late, discussed your plans for the future. But how could you be expected to, when you lived in a world where a future was hardly a guarantee?

It surprised you that he even wanted anything to do with you after that night. That he even bothered to ask if you still wanted him, shocked he would still want you. Of course, you told him you wanted him. You did want him. You loved him more than anything, but you didn't feel deserving of him. Not after the way you treated him. He deserved so much better.

And you felt so fucking selfish for keeping him. For breaking his heart, and then begging him to stay.

You promised yourself you were going to talk to him when he returned. That is, if he even wanted to talk. To tell him everything, put it all on the table and let him decide. You owed him that much.

When Jesse and Jake returned without him, your heart sank. You thought the worst. Standing at the gate with Maria on your one side and Carrie on the other, waiting for him to appear. Maria thought the worst, too. You felt it when she clutched your hand, after Carrie ran to hug Jake and you both watched them joyfully reunite, neither of you wanting to ask, afraid of the answer. To his credit, Jesse told you the story the moment he made his way through the small crowd of welcomers, instantly flooding you with relief.

It was really only a minute, maybe two, where you thought you lost him. The last conversation you had wouldn't be the last words he heard from you. But for that minute or two, your world stopped, you forgot how to breathe, and your only thought was - my life is over, I can't go on, I'll never experience a shred of happiness again.

So, yes. When he came home, you needed to do whatever you possibly could to fix the wound you caused. Because what you had was worth fighting for.

You stood, mustering the energy to get through the next couple hours before you could head back home when the greenhouse door swung open and shut very quickly, taking you off guard. You glanced up, not noticing anyone at first, and wondered if you imagined it before you saw the top of a girl's head bobbing along one of the aisles slowly, admiring the various plants and flowers that were so tall at this point in the season, it resembled a jungle.

"Hello?" you called out, craning your neck down the aisle. You made eye contact with the girl, one you didn't recognize, and she froze, staring at you with eyes widened, clearly not expecting anyone to be in the building.

Frowning, you began to walk towards her, but stopped when she looked like she was ready to bolt back out the door.

"It's alright," you said, holding your hands up to her. "What's your name?"

Her gaze shifted back and forth quickly between your eyes, examining you carefully before answering.

"Ellie."

"Hi, Ellie. Are you- is your mom or dad around?" you asked, lowering your hands. She shook her head.

"They're dead," she replied flatly, and you felt your heart squeeze in your chest.

"I'm sorry," you said softly. "Mine are, too."

She looked at you differently now, more with curiosity than fear. Taking a couple steps forward, with her finger trailing gently along the plants that hung over the side of the tables, she came closer to the end of the aisle, where you stood in front of your workstation.

"Yeah?" she asked, and you nodded. "Before or after?"

"After," you told her.

"Mine, too," Ellie replied, her voice laced with sadness.

You stared at one another for a few moments, both wondering what the other was going to do next. You knew Ellie didn't belong there, that she was trying to hide, and she knew you figured that out already.

"It really fucking sucked," you finally said, and her eyes lit up, the corners of her mouth turning up into a small smile before replying.

"Yeah, it did really fucking suck," she said, and you both giggled simultaneously.

You were about to offer her some water, noting she was wearing long sleeves on such a hot day, when the door burst open once again, startling you both. Tommy pushed inside and glanced around, his eyes immediately landing on Ellie, and his shoulders sagged with relief.

"In here!" Tommy called out through the open door. And it all happened so fast, you didn't even have time to process that if Tommy was home, then so was-

"Joel," you said softly to yourself when your eyes fell on his familiar, broad frame entering the building. He looked at you first before allowing his gaze to drift to Ellie, his brow furrowing with annoyance, then back to you. You swallowed roughly, and you heard Ellie curse under her breath next to you.

"Oh, great," she muttered, and you tore your eyes away from him to look at her now, for the first time putting the pieces together. This must be the girl Jesse told you they were taking to another camp in exchange for medicine.

"What're you thinkin', runnin' off like that?" Tommy said to Ellie, walking down the aisle towards her. You could feel Joel's eyes on you from where he stood by the door as you looked at Tommy questioningly.

"What's going on?" you asked. "I thought Jesse said you were taking her to another settlement?"

"Change of plans," was all Tommy offered, reaching his arm out and motioning for Ellie to step forward and follow him.

"She's staying?"

"Not for long," Joel finally said as he narrowed his eyes at Ellie.

"C'mon, you can stay with one of the teachers in town til we can get you back home," Tommy told her, sounding tired. Ellie followed behind Tommy slowly, admiring the plants as she walked.

"You're taking her back to her home?" you asked, following behind them.

"Yeah, no thanks to Joel," she said with a sneer as she walked by him. He rolled his eyes and moved out of the way, allowing Tommy and Ellie to exit.

"Will you two give it a rest? Goddamn, enough is enough," Tommy said, sounding like he was scolding two children. But before you could ask more questions, they were gone, leaving just you and Joel.

You looked at him, your fingers nervously fidgeting, tangling together. Now that he was right in front of you, you realized you had no idea what you were going to say. No rehearsed speech. And the way he looked at you in that moment made you feel like you kicked a puppy, his big, brown eyes wide with lingering pain, and the knot in your stomach tightened. Taking a shaky breath in, you straightened your posture, trying to summon some confidence, but failing.

"Did'ya move out?" he asked, breaking the silence, fists flexing at his sides.

"What?" you asked softly, your brows knit. "No, of course not." He exhaled loudly, like he had been holding his breath waiting for your answer.

"Do you... want me to?" you asked him, casting your eyes down to your feet, unable to look him in the eye if the answer was yes.

"No," he said simply, and you nodded, relief washing over you, eyes still glued to the floor.

The heat was becoming unbearable in the greenhouse now that you weren't directly in front of the fan. You dragged your eyes back up to Joel and noticed his shirt was already damp and his face was flushed, sweat trickling from his hairline down the side of his head.

"I have a couple more hours here, but after, did you want to talk?" you asked, chewing on your lip. He stared at you, his eyes wide, jaw tense, body rigid, and he nodded. Other than still looking hurt, he was impossible to read.

"Okay," you said softly, looking away and turning to pick up your bucket of tools and gloves from the ground. When you straightened back up, you were shocked to feel his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest quickly. Your eyes fluttered shut and you dropped your tools in favor of circling your arms around his waist. You inhaled deeply, missing everything about him: his scent, his warmth, his touch, his voice. His heart hammered in his chest, you could feel it fluttering against your cheek, and you squeezed him even tighter, not even caring about the heat anymore.

His arms loosened and you opened your eyes again, allowing him to take a step back so you could look up at him.

"Joel," you whispered, reaching a hand up to his jaw, but he took another step backwards, clearing his throat.

"I'll see you tonight," he said, then quickly pushed the door open, disappearing and leaving you all alone with your heart stuck in your throat and tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

He was relieved when he finally made his way home and confirmed with his own eyes that you didn't move your things out of the house. Back when he hurt Jake, he came home to find you in the middle of packing all your things, leaving him in agony for four excruciating months.

Dropping his gear by the front door, he dragged himself up the steps, wincing at the pain in his back and hips from the past several days on horseback, until he reached the shower. The heat from the water helped the ache in his bones, but he still popped two ibuprofen. He hardly slept well on these trips, his body not used to sleeping on the forest floor anymore, so the urge to collapse into bed was strong, but he fought it.

He wandered down to the kitchen in search of food, and finding some leftovers in the fridge, ate over the sink as he stared out the window, his mind reeling. He spent the entire trip wondering what was going through your head, and he was determined to find out.

Pacing around the house, he spent the rest of the afternoon trying to stay busy, trying not to let his anxiety squeeze his chest like it used to. His panic attacks had gotten much better over the past couple years, but he still had moments here and there that brought him to his knees. Usually, you were there to help, to talk him through it. To help ground him.

When you arrived home, he had your kitchen table upside down, the four legs sticking straight up in the air with tools scattered on the floor around him. His back was hunched over as he twisted a screwdriver into the wood firmly with a grunt, then sat back on his heels to give the leg a shake, testing for any movement before standing up with a sigh. Turning around, he froze when he realized you had been leaning up against the wall, quietly watching him work.

"Didn't hear you come in," he said, scooping down to collect his tools and putting them back in his toolbox, one by one.

"What are you doing?" you asked him, and you could feel your pulse quickening as your nerves settled in.

"Fixin' the table, been wobbly for weeks," he muttered, and you nodded as if you had any clue what he was talking about, fairly certain that he was just looking for something to do to occupy his time. He locked his toolbox and put it on one of the kitchen chairs before running his fingers through his hair roughly and turning back around to face you.

"Is it me?" he asked bluntly, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"No!" you told him immediately, and pushed off the wall to close the gap, about to reach out to him, but hesitated. "It's absolutely not you," you confirmed again.

"Then what is it?" he demanded, chest rising and falling faster than normal as he stared at you, his forehead crinkled with worry.

"It's me," you said with a shrug, as if the answer was obvious. "I'm scared, Joel."

"What's there to be scared about?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, his hands itching to reach out and hold you, to prove there was nothing to fear.

"Everything!" you said, exasperated. "Look around! We barely survived this, and who knows what tomorrow will bring. But to have a baby? A helpless, little baby who doesn't understand they need to be quiet if we are in danger, who wouldn't have access to the medical care you and I had when we were little-"

"These new people have tons of medicine," he told you, shaking his head. "Whatever a baby would need, I can get."

"Okay, fine. But the rest, Joel... if we had a baby and something happened to this place... to us-" your voice caught in your throat at the thought of a baby being orphaned, all alone and scared. Then your mind drifted to your conversation with Ellie, the perfect example of a child abandoned, left to depend on strangers to take care of her.

It seemed as though Joel either made the same connection, or finally understood your fears, because he sighed and hung his head.

"Alright," he agreed, shoulders sagging.

"Joel, if a child is something you really want, it's not fair for me to stop you from doing that," you said, blinking away the tears.

"I don't want a kid unless it's with you!" he said angrily, turning away so he could pace around the kitchen. "Quit sayin' shit like that."

"I'm sorry," you said softly, sitting down weakly in one of the kitchen chairs, staring at your hands in your lap. He sighed and stopped pacing, choosing instead to brace his hands on the kitchen island, staring at you from across the room.

"It's fine," he said unconvincingly.

"No, it's not," you said, looking up and calling out his lie. You could see the tension in his jaw from where you sat across the room, a muscle twitching under his patchy beard.

"No, it's not," he echoed in agreement. "But I'll get over it."

You weren't sure what to say after that. Part of you wanted to tell him again that he deserved everything he wanted out of life, and you felt so selfish for not feeling the same way, but you knew he would get angry if you suggested it again. So you remained silent, letting him work through his thoughts while you waited.

"And marriage?" he asked after a few minutes, trying to keep the hurt from his voice.

"I think I just need some time," you told him, feeling guilty enough for denying him a family.

"Okay," he said, looking down at his hands splayed on the counter. His face relaxed as he audibly exhaled, and you could tell your answer gave him a bit of relief.

"Are you sure it's okay?" you asked timidly, and he glanced back up at you.

"Yes," he said, pushing off the counter and rounding the island. He crouched down in front of you, still seated on the kitchen chair haphazardly placed in the middle of the room, the kitchen table still upturned. Taking your hands in his, he gave them a reassuring squeeze. "We'll get through this," he told you softly, and you pressed your lips in a thin line to keep them from trembling.

"You promise?" you asked shakily, eyes watering, and he nodded.

"Promise," he said firmly. He reached up, fingers pinching your chin gently as you stared at one another before he tugged your face forward, pressing his lips softly against yours. You could tell he was trying, but you didn't feel the usual heat behind the kiss. It felt mechanical and distant, but when he pulled back, you forced a small smile, anyway.

Maybe you both just needed some time.

Tommy didn't waste any time. The very next day after arriving back in Jackson, he began to organize a group of men to go raid the neighboring police stations for guns and weapons, Joel included. The plan was to only be gone for one night, maybe two, which wasn't too bad, but considering the fragile state of your relationship, it made you uneasy.

You both went through the motions of your typical routine. Getting ready for work at the greenhouse while he repacked his bag with fresh clothes and food. The morning he left, he walked you to work like he normally would, neither of you hardly saying a word, both trying not to acknowledge the ripple of tension between you. He gave you a quick kiss, told you he would miss you, you told him to be safe, and you each went your separate ways.

You wished you had more time together before he had to leave again, maybe it would have made you feel better. Less anxious, less distracted, less questions. The first morning was spent rethinking everything the two of you said, every interaction. And you tried not to dwell on the fact that, for the first time in a very long time, you woke up without his arms around you. Instead, he was curled up on his side of the bed, not even facing your direction. So, when Ellie found her way back into the greenhouse that afternoon, you were grateful for the distraction.

"Hey," she said softly behind you, causing you to jump.

"Ellie! Hey, what are you up to?" you asked her, standing up with a grunt. You had been hunched over for too long, as evidenced by your spine crackling when you stretched.

"Nothing really," she said, glancing around at the plants. You noticed once again that she was wearing a long sleeved shirt.

"Did Julia offer you any new clothes?" you asked with a frown.

"Yep."

"Aren't you hot?"

"A little," she said with a shrug, and you decided to drop it when it became clear she wasn't going to offer more of an explanation.

The two of you spent the next couple hours occasionally chatting, but mostly sitting in a comfortable silence while you worked. Ellie would watch you and ask if you needed help, and to make her feel useful, you would ask her to get you a watering can, or a certain tool. She seemed to enjoy helping, noticing she became more relaxed as the afternoon wore on.

"You know, you're staying right across the street from my house," you told her as you began cleaning up.

"I know," she said, and you looked up at her, surprised.

"You do?"

"Yeah. I saw you come home yesterday," she said, perched on top of your workstation, legs swinging back and forth.

"Oh. Why didn't you say anything?" you asked as you lifted your apron over your head to hang on the wall.

"Dunno. You seemed like you were in a rush."

She was perceptive. She didn't offer much about herself, but she seemed to read people very well. A byproduct of the last few years of her life, most likely.

"I know all this must be confusing for you," you said, leaning up against the workstation, crossing your arms. "But you can stop by my house anytime, alright? If you need anything, or just want to come hang out. Here, too. If you want."

"Yeah, okay," she said quickly, a small smile spreading across her face. "Thanks."

"You wanna walk with me back home?" you asked her, and she nodded, slipping down from the table and bouncing alongside you as you walked out of the building and back into the sweltering heat.

"How's it going over at Julia's?"

"It's fine," Ellie replied, kicking a small stone as you walked up the street together. "She's nice. But..."

You glanced at her from the corner of your eye, waiting for her to continue.

"She's old. And she's a little boring. Gave me a bedtime like I'm some little kid and made me say my prayers before dinner," she said.

"How old are you, anyway?" you inquired, realizing you never asked before.

"Almost fourteen."

"Yeah, that's a little old for a bedtime," you said, nodding in agreement as you approached your house. You stopped in the middle of the road, expecting Ellie to say her goodbyes and head over across the street, but she hesitated.

"You wanna grab dinner with me?" you asked her, and she looked up at you with a grin, nodding enthusiastically. You smiled back and jutted your chin towards Julia's house.

"Go tell her I'm taking you to the dining hall, I just want to change real quick and I'll meet you back out here."

"Okay!" Ellie replied, looking the most excited you'd seen her since you met.

After you cleaned yourself up, you stepped out of your door to find Ellie pushing herself back and forth on your swing at the end of the wraparound porch.

"Having fun?" you teased, and she jumped off the swing, sticking the landing and trotting over to you.

"Yeah, your house is really cool," she said, following you down the steps as you made your way to the center of town.

"Thanks. Joel built it for me. Well, the swing and porch, anyway."

"Joel?" she said questioningly, her nose scrunching up.

"Yeah, he was with the group-"

"I know who he is," she said, cutting you off and casting her eyes down to her feet. "Are you guys married or something?"

"Uh, no," you said, ignoring the fluttering in your chest. "But we're together."

"Oh," she said quietly.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. He just doesn't seem to like me much," she said with a shrug, but you could tell she was trying to put on a brave face.

"I'm sure that's not true. He doesn't even know you," you said, walking up the steps to the Tipsy Bison.

"Don't think that matters," she mumbled. "He didn't want to bring me here. Wanted to take me back to them."

Joel had briefly told you about Ellie's history with the Fireflies the night before, that Ellie was forced into slavery, but he failed to mention his own opinions about her.

"He's a good man. He's just got a lot going on lately," you said, hoping to leave it at that. Ellie eyed you curiously, but let it go, flopping down in a chair at an empty table, head swiveling around the room to check out all the people while you went to the bar to place an order with Seth. When you came back with your food, the dining room had grown more crowded, most of the tables already filled. Ellie's eyes lit up when you placed the tray of food down in front of her.

"Thanks! This place is so fucking cool," she said before digging into her food like it was her last meal.

"Yeah, we are really lucky," you agreed.

"Were you here when this place was built?" she asked you around a mouthful of food.

"Not at first," you said, then proceeded to tell her a bit of your own story. How you and Joel knew each other before the outbreak and you traveled across the country to try to find Tommy, never expecting to find him in the town you now called home. She nodded along eagerly, hanging on your every word and asking questions along the way. You chose to leave out a few parts to your story that a child shouldn't have to hear about, focusing more on how you both survived and depended on one another for safety, instead.

"Was he a dick before the outbreak, too?" she asked you after she had long finished up her dinner.

"Ellie!" you scolded her, but you smirked. "Actually... he was worse," you said, and you both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"No, seriously, he's not that bad. He comes off like he's all tough, but deep down he's a softie," you said. "There's a whole other side to him that's just..." you trailed off, your eyes glued to the table as you thought about Joel.

"Just what?" she asked, urging you to continue.

"Just really good. He's loving, and sweet, and caring. He would do anything for this town, puts himself at risk all the time, expects nothing in return," you said, realizing you were rambling, but Ellie didn't seem to mind. "I'm really lucky to have him."

Ellie looked at you for a few moments, studying your face as you struggled to hide your feelings. Rehashing everything that you love about Joel just made you feel even worse, wishing for the millionth time that you weren't so selfish, that you could give him what he wanted.

"You guys have been through some shit, huh?" she said, and you looked back up at her. Very perceptive.

"Yeah," you said softly, and that was all she needed to hear.

"Alright, then," she said dramatically, standing up from the table. "I guess I could give him another chance. For you."

"How generous of you," you joked, standing up as well and leading her to the exit. "If history is any indicator, Joel tends to need a couple chances before people start to like him."

You both laughed as you headed back down the street, the sun beginning to dip lower behind the houses. Ellie was in the middle of telling you about a comic book she was reading, enthusiastically acting out her favorite parts of the story, when you finally made it back home.

"Okay, kid. You should probably get home. It's close to your bedtime," you teased, and she scoffed at your joke, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, I guess I'll have to pick up where I left off tomorrow," she said, begrudgingly heading across the street to Julia's house.

And that was exactly what she did. You had been in the greenhouse for all of ten minutes before the door swung open and Ellie burst in, this time with her comic book in hand so she could read it out loud to you while you worked.

The entire second day Joel was gone, you spent with Ellie. You told her odd pieces of information about Jackson, she would read or quietly draw your plants on some crumpled loose leaf paper she had stuffed in her backpack, never really giving away much information about her own history. But you didn't mind. You knew if she ever wanted to share, she would do it in her own time. You just wondered how much time the two of you would have left.

Joel arrived back in Jackson early on the third day. You were surprised to hear your front door open as you were making yourself a quick breakfast in the kitchen.

"Hey, you're up early," you called over your shoulder. "Are you hungry?"

"Already ate," Joel's deep voice rumbled somewhere behind you, and you spun around in surprise.

"You're back," you said, trying to get your bearings.

"Who'd you think it was?" he asked, dropping his backpack on top of the kitchen table.

"Ellie," you said, turning back to the stove to shuffle your eggs around in the pan.

"The kid?" he asked you, and you nodded.

"Yeah, she's been keeping me company the past couple days. She's really funny and smart," you said, turning the stove off and sliding your food onto a plate. You walked over to him, taking in his dirty clothes and face. Setting your plate down on the table, you took a step closer and hooked a finger into one of his beltloops. It wasn't lost on you that he neglected to greet you in his normal fashion. Accustomed to him wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a searing kiss, minimally.

"How'd it go?" you asked quietly, staring up at him, trying to read his face.

"Good," he said gruffly, seemingly unphased by your hand so close to his belt. "Got the guns. Tommy's gonna organize another trip back to the Fireflies to drop 'em off, tell 'em the kid ran off, and hope they let us keep the meds."

"Does that mean you're leaving again?" you asked, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice.

"No, he's gonna send some other guys. Said we earned a break," he said. His hands that would normally be all over you were shoved deep in his pockets.

"That's good, you need to relax," you said, bringing another finger up to hook into a beltloop. You pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to reach up and give him a soft kiss, one which he returned, but didn't deepen.

"You gotta get to work?" he mumbled, tipping his chin down to break the kiss. You shook your head.

"Day off," you whispered, trying to sound suggestive. "I can help you relax, if you want," you added. You felt nervous, your heart thumping loudly in your chest, not sure what he was thinking and afraid of being shot down.

He finally dragged his gaze back to you, and you swore you saw a familiar glint of lust flash across his dark eyes. You held your breath, waiting for him to say something, anything, to make you feel less exposed.

"Maybe later. I gotta clean up," he said. You deflated a bit, but noticed he hadn't attempted to move away, so you tried again.

"I don't mind. I like it when you're dirty," you said, sinking your teeth into your lower lip, and that seemed to do the trick. His nostrils flared and he took a deep breath, his eyes falling to your lips. And finally, he dragged his hands out of his pockets to reach down and cup your ass, pulling you against him roughly with a grunt. You gasped when you felt the hard outline of his cock pressed against your stomach, then hungrily covered his mouth with yours, your tongue swirling around his as your hands left his belt to grip the dark curls at the base of his neck.

"Missed you," he mumbled against your mouth before greedily making his way to your neck, his fingertips digging into the plumpness of your ass.

"Me, too," you whispered, closing your eyes and tipping your head to the side, giving him better access.

"Ew, gross," you heard Ellie say, startling you both. You jumped away but Joel strategically stayed behind you, adjusting himself when Ellie wasn't looking.

"Whaddya want?" Joel asked roughly with a frown. Ellie plopped herself down in front of your abandoned plate of eggs and took a forkful before screwing her face up into a grimace.

"These are cold," she said, but continued to shovel more in her mouth, anyway.

"Good morning to you, too," you said to her before walking back over to the stove, heating up the pan to make more food.

"Morning," Ellie replied, mouth full of eggs.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you to chew with your mouth closed?" Joel asked her, arms crossed over his chest. "Or to knock before bargin' into stranger's homes?"

"Nope," Ellie said with a smirk, and let her jaw fall open so Joel could see even more of her partially digested food. He made a face and rolled his eyes.

"Lovely," he said sarcastically, looking away.

"Besides, she's not a stranger," Ellie said, nodding in your direction. You smiled to yourself, your back to the pair of them, pleased that the girl found a friend in you after all she had been through.

Joel sighed and dropped his arms to his sides as he headed towards the stairs.

"I'm gonna go wash up, then we gotta meet Tommy and Maria at the town hall," he told you. You frowned, turning away from your eggs.

"What for?"

"Informal council meeting. To figure out how to get this one out of here," Joel replied, shooting a look at Ellie. Her chewing paused as she looked back and forth between you and Joel.

"Oh. Right," you said with a nod as he headed up the stairs, the bedroom door shutting behind him.

"You're on the town council?" Ellie asked, and you shrugged, turning the burner off for the second time and sliding your eggs onto a new plate.

"Guess I am now," you said, and joined her at the table. You both chewed thoughtfully while you heard the shower turn on upstairs, right above your heads.

"What if I wanted to stay?" she asked you quietly, staring down at her eggs.

"I don't know, Ellie," you said with a sigh. You had a feeling this was coming.

"Can you try to convince them?" she asked you earnestly, looking up at you now. "If you're on the council, maybe you can tell them to let me stay."

You chewed on your lip, trying to figure out how to handle the delicate situation.

"It's complicated," you said. "They are lying to those people to protect you. If the Fireflies ever found out, it could be really bad."

She nodded solemnly and looked back down at her plate briefly before shoving it away and standing up.

"I should go," she said, avoiding your gaze as she headed toward the door. You stood up to follow her.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," you said, and you really were. You didn't want to tell her that you wanted her to stay just as badly, that you didn't have any power to make that wish come true, that you were just another adult who failed her.

"It's fine, I'm used to it," she said over her shoulder as she swung the door open. "Thanks for breakfast," she added, jogging lightly down the steps and shoving her hands in her pockets as she headed back across the street.

You sat quietly at the conference table while Tommy went over the plan to return Ellie to her family. Someone must have asked her where she was from, because Tommy had a map spread out on the table with Phoenix, Arizona circled in red marker, his fingertip gently tracing up the map slowly until he found Jackson.

"Probably take a week to get there. Week to get back," he said, straightening up to look at the group. Besides you and Joel, Maria was also there, along with Bill, the town doctor, Eugene, and Claire, a high school teacher. "Figure it shouldn't take many people, I don't want to leave this place defenseless just in case this blows back on us."

"Who is going to take her, Tommy?" Claire asked, her glasses sliding down her nose as she leaned forward on the table.

"Me and Maria volunteer. I'll see if Jake's up for another trip, and maybe one more," he said, avoiding eye contact with Joel. You shifted in your seat, about to open your mouth to volunteer when Joel's head whipped towards you, shooting you a glare that said don't even think about it.

"I'll do it," Eugene said.

"I'll need another group to take the guns to the Fireflies, was kind of hopin' you might take the lead since you know 'em," Tommy replied, and the older man nodded.

"Wherever you need me," he said.

"I'll go with Eugene to take the guns," Joel offered, and you stiffened in your seat.

"Alright, maybe Jesse'll go with you and that should be enough. I oughta warn 'em we're comin'. I'll radio over later today, see if I can get ahold of Marlene, tell her the story," Tommy mumbled, jotting down a note for himself as he spoke. "I'll ask Carl to come with us to take Ellie."

You cleared your throat, drawing the table's attention.

"What if she stayed?" you asked, and Tommy paused for a moment, glancing at Joel before looking back at you. "What? Is it that absurd? She said she wants to stay, and that way we aren't risking the lives of four people to get her to Arizona safely."

"No, we would be riskin' the lives of the whole town if she stayed," Joel countered. "If those Fireflies ever find out we lied, we're fucked."

"He's right, darlin', I'm sorry," Tommy said. Maria cast you a sympathetic glance and you sighed.

At least you could say you tried.

They had agreed to disband each group in a couple days, allowing everyone a chance to rest up, as well as give Tommy an opportunity to touch base with the Fireflies over the radio.

Joel gripped your elbow once you were both far enough away from everyone as you made your way home, pulling you closer.

"You weren't about to volunteer to take that kid, were you? Tell me I'm crazy for thinkin' that," he muttered lowly next to you.

"I didn't volunteer, did I?" you shot back, not exactly answering the question, and he knew it, but he still released your arm. "Besides, you volunteered to take those guns to the Fireflies, when you just told me you weren't going. Like that isn't even more dangerous? What if they see right through this lie and do something?"

"That's different and y'know it," he said, and you scoffed.

"Right, because it's you," you replied, rolling your eyes.

"No, 'cause this needs to get done, and it needs to get done right. And I ain't riskin' my neck takin' that kid back to her family," he said, jaw clenching. "Neither of us are riskin' it. It was a mistake to bring her here in the first place."

You opened your mouth to argue back, but decided against it. He got what he wanted anyway: you were staying home. That aside, you could tell your relationship was still in a fragile state, and you weren't interested in making it any worse.

The next morning, you arrived at the greenhouse, leaving Joel behind in bed at home. He would typically walk you to work, but you wanted to make sure he got as much rest as possible before yet another journey outside the walls of Jackson. You were still disappointed that he volunteered for the task, especially after he told you he would stay home, and the insecure part of you wondered if he was trying to stay busy as a way of avoiding you.

It wasn't until closer to lunchtime that Ellie finally joined you at the greenhouse, much to your relief since you had become used to her being around to keep you company.

"Hey kid, where have you been all morning?" you asked her when she came in with no more than a silent nod in your direction as a greeting.

"Maria came by," she said, and you noticed right away her voice sounded distant. You stopped what you were doing so you could give her your full attention.

"She said I'm leaving in a few days, wanted specifics on where my aunt and uncle lived," she continued, and you nodded along, wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. She was avoiding eye contact, focused entirely on her open backpack and rifling through her meager possessions.

"I'm sorry, Ellie. I did try, you know, in the meeting. But it wasn't up for debate," you told her. She nodded in acknowledgement, still keeping her eyes cast down.

"I get it. I know there's some people who really don't want me here," she said, choosing not to name names, but you knew who she meant. "But at least we still have a week."

She must have noticed your silence because she finally glanced up at you.

"Maria said it will take a week to get me there. You are going, right?" she asked. Your face must have given you away because she clenched her jaw and shook her head. "Are you fucking kidding me, man?"

"Ellie-"

"You have to come with me!" she pleaded now, her eyes wide. "Please!"

"I can't, I'm so sorry," you said, your heart breaking at the expression on her face. She stomped angrily across the room, tears welling up in her eyes as she gave you a firm shove, making you stumble back in surprise.

"Not fucking cool," she said, giving you another shove, nostrils flared. And then another. And another, until you were up against the wall and couldn't move backwards any further. Two tears fell down her cheeks and her fists were raised to pound on your chest out of frustration, but you quickly wrapped your arms around her instead and pulled her in close for a hug, tears blurring your vision.

"I'm sorry," you repeated over and over as you held her in your arms, gently swaying back and forth as she cried silently against your chest.

"I need to tell you something," she said, pulling away and wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "But you need to promise not to tell anyone."

"What-"

"Promise me!" she yelled, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared at you with a fire in her eyes.

"I promise," you told her. She looked at you for another minute, as if she were deciding whether or not to really tell you. She sighed, glancing back at the closed door once before pulling up the sleeve of her shirt.

You raced down the street, sweat collecting at the base of your neck and hairline, as you bobbed and weaved your way to Maria's house, hoping Tommy would be there. You could hardly think straight, the past thirty minutes completely sending you off the deep end. She's immune, she's immune, she's fucking immune.

Knocking erratically on the front door, you struggled to catch your breath, wiping the sweat away as best you could with your other hand while you waited impatiently for an answer. Just as you were about to start knocking again, the door swung open and Maria stood on the other side, giving you a confused look.

"Is Tommy here?" you gasped, and she nodded, her eyes widening at your demeanor and ushered you inside.

"Are you okay?" she asked you, and you nodded, glancing in the living room to find it empty before you headed to the kitchen. You stopped cold when you saw Joel was there with his brother seated at the table, two maps spread out in front of them. They both looked up when you entered the room, and Joel stood from his chair immediately, coming over to you with a look of concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked you, taking you by the shoulders to give you a once over, but you stepped aside so you could address Tommy behind him.

"I'm coming with you to take Ellie back to her family," you told him.

"Like hell you are!" Joel roared, dropping his hands from your shoulders, but you ignored him. Tommy sighed, looking back and forth between you and Joel, before standing up from his chair.

"Darlin'-"

"No, Tommy. I'm going. You said yourself you needed a fourth person."

"You ain't goin' anywhere," Joel said, narrowing his eyes. You finally caved and met his gaze. "We talked about this," he added.

"Things change," you said, and he bristled at your response.

"What changed?" Tommy asked calmly, and you turned your attention back to him.

"She's scared. She wants someone she trusts to go with her," you said, only half lying.

Tommy and Maria exchanged glances. You waited for a response while Joel seethed next to you, staring daggers at his brother.

"Tommy, she ain't-"

"We need a fourth, Joel," he said, cutting him off.

"Find someone else!" he yelled, running his fingers through his hair.

"I can do it, I can handle myself," you assured Tommy, ignoring Joel's reaction once again, knowing you only had to convince one person. "You know I can handle myself."

Tommy gave his brother a pained look before looking back at you.

"Alright," Tommy said, and you breathed a sigh of relief. "I'll keep her safe, Joel," Tommy promised, daring to look at Joel, who was brimming with so much anger, his face looked flush.

You glanced at Joel, his jaw clenched so tightly you wondered if he was cracking his molars. His gaze bounced between you and Tommy, not sure who to channel his rage toward.

"Joel, it will be fine. Sit down, you're going to give yourself a heart attack," you said, trying to smooth things over, but it was no use.

"Fuckin' hell," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Guess I'm goin', too."

"That's fine, I'll shift some guys around, send Jake with Eugene," Tommy agreed with a nod. Joel just stared at the ground, taking deep breaths, trying to control his temper.

"Thank you," you whispered to Joel, reaching a hand out to place on his shoulder, but he stepped away.

"Thought you didn't want kids, why don't you make up your damn mind," he snapped, and it felt like he punched you in the gut. He turned on his heel towards the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Your eyes filled with tears and your face flushed with embarrassment as Tommy and Maria glanced awkwardly at one another. Maria stepped forward and wrapped an arm around your shoulders so she could lead you into the living room.

"You wanna talk about it?" she asked you, handing you a tissue. You shook your head and dabbed your eyes.

"Not right now," you said quietly. "Thank you. I'm sorry I put you in that position, I didn't know he was here," you said, addressing Tommy, who was leaning against the doorway, watching you both.

"It's alright, he'll get over it, I know how to handle my own brother," he said with a smirk. You chuckled and wiped your nose before taking a deep breath.

"I should probably go," you said, trying to force a smile. Maria walked you to the door and reminded you quietly that she was there if you wanted to talk. You gave her a quick hug and thanked them both before heading back down the street towards home, hoping Joel had a chance to cool down and come to his senses.

If Ellie was immune, you needed to make sure she got in the right hands, to have a chance to explain to her remaining family the gift she was given, and if you were the only person she could trust to confide in, then so be it. You wanted to tell Joel the truth, but you made her a promise, and you weren't going to let her down again.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo @iloveramensm @caitlynsixxx @anoverwhelmingdin @harriedandharassed @jessthebaker @txtattoostark - if your name is crossed off, it won't let me tag you. lmk if I missed anyone

289 notes · View notes

ohtobeleah · 3 months

Text

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Eleven: [The Man]

Summary: When Jake and Jensen go head to head over who means what yo you, things escalate to new heights, so much so that Jake lashes out and says something that may not be forgiven.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion. JEALOUS JAKE!

Word Count: 5.6K

Author Note: This chapter brings the total word count of this series to 50k....I cannot believe that an idea that began as a one-shot has turned into this. Thank you all so much for your support on this one. xxx

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

There was a brief moment right before your shower where Jake was able to step out into the hall to call his sister Jasmine. He knew the call he was about to make was going to be neither short, nor pleasant. But he also knew that deep down, you weren’t mentally prepared to tell your children you were sick. But the pair of you had to start somewhere. And that somewhere was Jake’s sister.

“What the FUCK is going on!” One single ring. One dial. That's how long it took Jake's sister to answer, hell, Jake thought it would have been sooner but he gave her a little good grace for potentially having to step out of whatever family dynamic she found herself in. “Mum said Y/n’s sick?”

“Did she say it like that?” Jake replied unamused as he found an empty chair to sit on in the waiting room area down the hall. He didn't want to stray too far away from your room. Although he knew that you were with the nurses, he couldn't find it inside himself to leave. If Jake tried hard enough, he could still see your bed socks at the end of your hospital bed.

“Uh–” Jasmine's apprehensive silence confirmed all Jake needed to know. “She may have said it with a little hope in her chest, mentioned the words dropped and dead in the same sentence of wishful thinking.” Jake couldn’t say he was surprised after the way Janeen had spoken so poorly about you directly to his face. He couldn't really imagine what she’d been saying to other members of the Seresin family. “But what's going on? I'm keeping an eye on the kids as much as I can but holy shit mum's just on a warpath–”

Fuck: Jake knew leaving the kids behind was a bad idea on his behalf. The guilt of running off on his children in the middle of the night was beginning to eat him alive. The idea of lying to them about your condition only made that guilt harder to rationalise.

“Okay, can you just promise me you won’t tell the kids?” Jake groaned into the phone. “Y/n doesn't want them to worry so she doesn't want to say too much.”

“Jake–” Jasmine's voice changed, the serious nature of the conversation at hand was beginning to shine through with ease. “She's alright, isn't she?” Jasmine asked as Jake let his elbows rest on top of his thighs. This whole situation, the newly found world of which you were living in was begging to give Jake the head spins. Keeping up was exhausting, but this wasn't about Jake now was it. “This is Y/n we’re talking about, she has to be alright.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jake had been reading all your files, all your reports, everything and anything he could get his hands on about your diagnosis. After all, he had been named your emergency contact not long after showing up. He’d made a convincing case. Jake knew a lot about your current situation. He knew the odds, chances, risks and possibilities.

“She's been diagnosed with Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.” Jake explained to his sister who on the other end of the call, sat watching his youngest try to eat the sand from the sandpit Jake himself used to shit in as a child. “The oral chemo they had her started on caused a stroke, apparently it's a common side effect, to me they shouldn't be pumping people full of that crap if its gonna cause a fucking stroke forty percent of the time.”

Jake knew the silence on the other end of the line was due to an overload of information getting caught in his sister's cerebellum. It was a lot to take in, hell Jake still hadn’t really been given an opportunity to take it all in. since he found out he’d been go go go. He knew an impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion was coming. When that moment would come he wasn't sure.

“You’re lying–” Was all Jasmine said. Jake wished more than anything he could say he was.

“Fucked up thing to lie about Jas–” Jake responded softly as he listened to the hustle and bustle of the hospital wing his sat in. “She hadn’t been feeling well for a few months, Doctors say it's aggressive, feeds off her hormones and stuff.” Jake didn't understand a lot of it, but he was trying his best to navigate a field he wasn't an excerpt in. “She's in for a preventative double mastectomy on Christmas Eve. It would've been earlier but the strokes kinda set her back a few days.”

“Jake– I don't believe you, the kids–what about the kids, what do I tell them?” Jasmine couldn't comprehend the devastation this would cause on the already struggling family dynamic. You and Jake were meant to be, everyone knew that. But this whole separation, the miscommunication and overall fractures within your marriage were all major contributing factors as to why love just couldn’t be enough.

“Don't tell them anything, please, for the love of God Jas don't tell them anything, I just–” Jake let out a sigh of frustration as he ran his hand free hand through his hair. God he needed a haircut. “We just need a little time to process what's going on and Y/n–she's been doing this for too long on her own, I can’t keep letting her down so just, take a moment to breathe for me.”

“Holy fuck you aren’t kidding about any of this are you?” Jasmine with all her good graces and problematic marital issues of her own, looked over at where her husband sat with hers and Jake's father. The sight was enough to send a shiver down her spine. The man who raised her was not someone who Jasmine ever wanted her brother to become. Losing your wife to such a disease that was as unforgiving as it was inhumane could potentially be an origin story bubbling under the surface of Jake's skin.

“Jake–You don't get to turn into dad if this ends anything less than Y/n walking away from this cancer free Jake, your kids deserve to have a dad that won't treat them like burdens and mistakes.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Watch your step alright?” Our skulls are designed to cushion our brains. Our rib cages are specifically moulded to guard our hearts. The human body is built to protect our most vulnerable parts. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.

The way in which Jake helped to guide you out of the bathroom with his hand pressed firmly against the small of your back made your heart skip a beat. You held tightly onto his forearm with one hand and in the other? Was your IV poll, still pumping you full of antibiotics and fluids.

“I got it.” You tried to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. That's what this whole thing was about right? This battle, this fight. It was all about putting one foot in front of the other. With Jake by your side, albeit with some underlying resentment still to be discussed, you felt as though those steps, small but meaningful in their own right, were made with intent and purpose to keep fighting. “Shit the air-con feels so weird on my head.” You chuckled to yourself as Jake shut the bathroom door behind the both of you.

“Yeah holy shit it's like–” As Jake's eyeline faltered from you to the figure standing over near the door, his heart sunk into his stomach. His face turned to stone as the green in his eyes, usually an emerald colour, darkened to something more pine-like. The half finished sentence that left your husband's mouth and tailed off into complete and utter silence was what got your attention the most. It wasn't like Jake to not say what was on his mind.

“What's up?” As you turned your head slowly, you saw the man who had been nothing but a pillar of support for you to lean on since your diagnosis. It was the man who had kept you above water when you felt like you’d been drowning in a sea of unprecedented mortality. “Jensen–” The shock and excitement in your tone was something Jake couldn't miss no matter how much he wanted to. “You came?”

Jake made no attempt to move as you shuffled forward, he stood still with his heart hammering inside his chest. He stood completely still as his thoughts carried him away into a world where nothing made sense to anyone. Into a world where he didn't have you, a world where for the last year he’d tasted of that very misery and hated every last second of it.

“I uh–” Jensen held out the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies he’d brought for you. The overwhelming colours and signature scents captivated the entire room with their freshness. “I wanted to stop by, see how you were doing, hope I'm not intruding?”

The body tends to adapt quickly to new circumstances and pressures it’s put under. It knows how to protect itself. But it can’t close off completely, or well—we’re not really living are we? Biology tends to override our fears, so we leave the door open, just a little…hoping like hell that it's worth the risk.

“Oh no, no we just finished up some DIY haircuts.” You beamed, the smile that ignited across your face was a smile Jake hadn't seen in years. A smile so pure and full of love that it couldn't ever be faked. “Jake, this is Jensen.” You introduced the two men who had played significant roles in your life, having no clue that they had both already met one another in the hall. “We met at the doctors office, as unfortunate as that sounds, it's been really nice to have someone who just, knows.” Jake slowly but surely aided you over to your bed before he made his way over to where Jensen stood watching idly. Assessing the situation unfolding before him. “Jensen convinced me to go to a few of those CCA meetings, although not my cup of tea–it's nice to know that that support system is there.”

Jake eyed Jensen and his bouquet of flowers off as he stepped closer and closer with a look Jensen couldn't quite read in his pine green eyes. The betrayal of love often has boundaries that people end up living with for the rest of their lives. For Jake, his betrayal and the consequences of his emotional ineptitude inside his marriage was starting to play out right before his very eyes.

He saw the potential that there was in fact another man. And oh boy did he hate it.

“And Jensen, this is Jake, my husband.” Jensen took subtle notice of the way you introduced Jake to him as your husband, not your ex-husband like you'd been referring to him as since the two of you first met. Something had changed, Jensen could sense it. But for as much as Jensen could sense the chemistry between you and Jake, Jake could see the way your eyes lit up with overjoyous surprise when you realised that the flowers Jensen held in his hand were in fact for you. “Are those, are those for me?”

“Oh–yeah.” Jensen beamed as he walked a little further into your room. “I thought they might bring a little light into your room but it seems that you have it pretty well decorated.” It was the small nod to the Christmas lights that hung around your room that made you smile even brighter as Jake made his way back over and helped you into bed. You could tell there was tension brewing just from his quietness alone. “And the new haircut suits you, good thing you don't have a weird ass head huh?”

“Hey Jarred–” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to reply, the way he intentionally called Jensen by a different name rubbed you the wrong way. The frown that cast itself across your face left little to Jake's imagination, but as he made sure you were as comfortable as could be in your bed, he kept going. “Nows, probably not a good time–”

Jensen looked around your room carefully, he knew the system well and what times were more common than not for nurses to do their daily rounds and check-ins. He knew that by the looks of things you had just showered and were probably settling in for the afternoon. If Jensen was correct in his assumption as he looked back towards where Jake stood at your bedside, he would assume that he couldn't have picked a better time to drop by.

“Seems like a pretty good time to me man, besides, why don't we let Y/n here make that call.” Jensen replied calmly as he went about finding a place for your flowers to go. Jensen could have played the safe card, he could have chosen to be the bigger person and not mention it, but he didn't really have a hell of alot to lose. After all, he was a dead man walking. What was the harm in stirring the pot a little where he still could. “Honestly, I didn't expect you to be here if I'm being completely honest.” Jensen smirked as he turned back to face Jake. You felt like your heart was about to explode right through your chest as you looked back and forth between the two men who had seemingly gotten into a mines bigger than yours contest on either side of your bedside. “Didn't think you knew your wife was sick–”

The silence was deafening as Jake thought about all the ways he could kill a man in one single motion. The rage he felt inside his chest was red hot jealousy. Jensen could practically see the steam spewing out of Jake's years.

“What my wife decides to share with me has nothing to do with you–” Jake growled, you could just see the way he was grinding his teeth. Jake's jawline had never seemed more profound. His knuckles were almost entirely white as he leaned against the railing of your hospital bed. Lowered down for convenience of getting in and out.

“It does when I’ve been the one listening to how much she wishes you loved her the same way she loves you.” Jensen shrugged. “Come on man, don't play this game, don't pretend that I don't know what been going on–”

“Enough!” You couldn't have shouted it slider if you tried. “Both of you, my god we’re all supposed to be adults here?” You sighed as you looked at Jake and then over to Jensen. Something was off with him, this wasn't the Jensen you knew. He seemed off, very off. “Can you two just back up, let's start over.” However, it was a plea that fell on deaf ears.

Remember that impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion Jake mentioned earlier? Yeah– about that. Guess it was coming around the corner sooner rather than later.

“Nah–” Jake shook his head as he let out a sigh. This was bullshit, you really had him fooled. He really did think that there was a possibility here that maybe, just maybe, the two of you could fix what he had unintentionally broken while focusing on your health. “Nah, I'm not gonna put up with this dickhead.” Jake hissed as unclenched his hands from the railing on your bed. “I'm gonna go get a coffee, try not to catch each other's cancer cells while I'm gone.”

“Jake, don't leave!” You begged as you sat up a little straighter in your bed. “Please—“ The panic that followed was something otherworldly as you watched Jake round out of the hospital room that had become your home away from home. “Please!”

Jensen was if anything, enraged. He hadn’t helped the situation but he never would have left your side after making a remark so thickly lacquered with jealousy. He didn't think Jake would react the way he did, so quick to make assumptions. The small gift Jensen still held in his hand was quickly placed on your bedside table.

“I’ll go talk to him—“ Jensen pressed his lips together as he let his hand fall gently to your shoulder. “My fault, I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry.” Jensen didn't pretend to not see how upset you truly were. He understood what it was like to feel the weight of the world crushing your spirit. “He didn't mean what he said Y/n.”

“He did–” You sighed as you wiped away your tears. “He asked me when he came to take the kids to his mum's house if I was seeing anyone–”

Ah, Jensen thought to himself as he stood by your bedside and listened.

“He wants to get back together, fix what's broken, change.” You sighed as you looked over to the open door that Jake hadn't long before walked out of. “He probably thinks you're more than a friend.” In another life, perhaps Jensen could have been more than just a good friend. In another universe somewhere he hoped that maybe you never had this unforgiving disease. But this wasn't another reality, this was right now.

“All the more reason to fight for his girl.” Jensen cooed as he leaned in to kiss the top of your now very smooth head. “I'll go talk to your husband.”

You caught onto the not so subtle subtlety of the way Jensen teased that title. Husband. Jake Seresin was still very much your husband. He was the very definition of a man who was supposed to be at your side through thick and thin. But right now? You were doubting his ability to fully comprehend what was happening to you. Jake’s focus shouldn’t have been on Jensen and who he was to you. But yet you couldn’t not defend him.

“He’s not a bad guy, he’s really not—“ There was an awkward silence that lingered in the room as Jensen chose to take in what you’d said. “This is all just so much for him to take in.”

“You don’t need to explain your relationship to me.” Jensen wanted to say that if Jake was such an alright guy, then you wouldn’t have left. He wanted to remind you of all the conversations the two of you had had over the past few months. All the times you’d cried about the man who didn’t value your time, your energy, your love. “But a woman like you should never have to beg a man to stay.”

“I left him.” You felt the need to remind the man who stood at your bedside with an ora surrounding him you didn’t recognise. “I stopped begging him to love me a long time ago and you know that.”

Jensen could have thrown the fact you just called out after Jake back in your face, that you’d begged your husband not to leave. But he wasn’t that mean. He was just looking out for you. Someone had to. Someone had to make sure this Jake guy had his priorities in check and that you were at the very top of that list where you belonged.

“I know—“ Jensen pressed his lips together into a fine line. “But that guy just walked out the second things got a little more complicated, what’s gonna stop him from throwing in the towel if your health declines more than it already has?” Jensen shrugged his shoulders like he wasn’t being nasty. It was his version of tough love.

“I’m sorry—“ You scoffed as your face contorted into that of a frown mixed with frustration. “Are you, are you testing Jake?”

“Cancer is one of the world's most leading causes of divorce.” Jensen added like it was a statistic you should have known. He knew you knew it. “I just wanted to see how well he handled a little external pressure.”

“You’re—“ Before you could finish your sentence, Jensen was smiling down at you from ear to ear.

“A menace, I know, but I’m a menace that only has your best interest at heart.” Jensen explained as he sat down beside you for only a brief moment. “Your fight isn’t with Jake right now, he shouldn’t be fighting you or anyone else in your life that may come and go.”

“Jensen—“ You knew Jensen hadn’t been well, but he hadn’t explicitly told you how bad it was. There was something in his eyes though, the way he looked at you like he was looking at you for the last time that had you worried. “What’s going on with you?”

“I’m just making sure if you’re letting that man back into your life that he’s gonna stick around when things don’t go the way he wants them to.” Jensen smiled softly as he picked up your hand to bring towards his lips. He left a fleeting kiss upon the palm of your hand and let out a sigh he wasn’t aware he was holding in. “I’ll go track down your sook of a husband, make sure he’s aware that you’re hopelessly devoted or whatever you wanna call it.”

“Please be nice—“ You pleaded gently as Jensen stood from your bedside. “Please.”

“Anything for you Y/n.” Jensen replied, he knew that this would be the last time he ever saw you apart from in his own version of heaven. “Anything for you.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Jake Seresin had never been a fan of hospitals. That mentality first started when he broke his leg in kindergarten and needed a full cast, but it grew with him well into adulthood. Jake had never liked hospitals, even when all three of his children were born he still hated them. Not even the love he had for his children could override the hate he felt towards the sterile environment that gave far too many infections to people to be considered ‘normal’

“Seresin.” But Jake had never hated hospitals more than he did the second he heard his last name being called from just a short distance down the hall. Called by a man who Jake would happily like to never see again. “The hell is your problem?” Jake caught the sight of the man who’d brought you flowers coming right towards him with a fire burning in his eyes. The man you had kept somewhat a secret from Jake. Much like your diagnosis.

“My problem is asking me what my problem is.” Jake groaned as he took a sip of his shitty ass hospital coffee. “Don’t you and my wife have things to talk about?” Jake asked as he took a few steps away from where Jensen had stopped in his tracks. “Things I’m not privy to as it seems? Like her health or new love life?”

“You don’t even know who I am to your wife!” Jensen barked loud enough to have Jake stopping in the middle of the hall. The six foot something aviator turned slowly on his heels to give the almost matching in height bald dude the time of day he seemed to crave. “But I know all about you, because I’ve been there for Y/n while you’ve been busy playing part time parent across the country.” Jensen had nothing to lose, he was just a dying man who had no time left to cherish.

Jake wasn’t about to stand here and take this. He didn’t need some guy who’d stepped into your life to tell him what to do. You were the mother of Jake’s children, you’d always be that to him regardless if he could fix what he broke.

“Get out of my face before you need a plastics consult.” Jake growled through gritted teeth all the while Jensen grinned. He was standing his ground as Jake continued on his defensive. “Because so help me god, you may feel like god right now with your self-righteous heart and knight in shining armour attitude, but you sure as hell won’t feel all high and mighty when you meet him.”

Jensen didn't want to fight with your husband, but he did want to make it known that time was forever fleeting, and if Jake kept going the way he was there would be no time left to fix what he broke. You needed someone to be there for you, Jake had to be that person.

Because Jensen couldn’t be that guy for you anymore, he had no fight left to give you. He had no fight left in himself.

“You know I sympathise with you Jake, I do, it must be hard being the guy who broke your own marriage to a woman who loves so fiercely and so much.” Jensen started as he let his elbows rest atop his sweatpants clad knees. “And now having to deal with the fact that said wife is dying must be a lot to work through.”

Jake remained speechless as his eyes lingered down to the man who was almost out of breath from his walk through the halls. He held his half drunk coffee cup in his hand with enough rage coursing through his veins that Jake was actually surprised he hadn’t crushed the flimsy cardboard vessel.

“But you know what the worst part of all that is? Is that your priority isn’t your wife, or fixing your marriage—“ Jensen continued on. “No, it’s on the guy who your wife chose to confide in when you were nowhere to be found.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake replied with a hiss in his tone that mimicked the deadliest of snakes. “I couldn’t give a shit who you are to her or what you want, because she’s my fucking wife—mine!”

“And yet here you are arguing that point with me in the hall when you could be at her bedside appreciating all the small moments you’ll be lucky to look back on one day.” Jensen grew more heated as Jake took a few strides his way, towering over where Jensen sat. “You threw a fit the second I stepped into that room without using any critical thinking skills you aviators claim to have in the heat of the moment.”

“She told me she wasn’t seeing anyone! Come to find out that that’s—“ Jake didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Jensen intervened that train of thought.

“She’s not! You’re wife fucking love’s you!! She kept her prognosis from you because she was so scared you didn’t love her back enough to fucking care! And you’re hung up on the idea she’s seeing someone? Me!?” Jensen scoffed as he stood, the few strides he took towards Jake were made with intent behind every single one. Enough to have Jake stumbling back every so slightly. “Here’s a concept for you man.” Jensen pressed his index finger into Jake’s sternum. “Maybe, just maybe, if I was sleeping with your wife, she’d remember her worth.”

“You really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake sighed, there was no way he was entertaining this delusion any more than he already had. “I think you should leave.” The idea of you being with another man sent Jake into a blind rage of jealousy that saw no reason. But at the end of the day, he was the one who walked out on you. He’d strayed too far from your hospital room and couldn’t see your bed socks anymore.

Fuck….

“Maybe, maybe I should—“ Jensen agreed. “And hell I don’t even know you at all, but from what I’ve managed to piece together? it’s that you're a crap husband who doesn’t have the emotional capacity to handle the fact his wife could lose this battle.” Jensen retaliated with a stone cold expression. “But something I do know is that no amount of prayer or candles or begging will reverse time, so put your ego side and focus on the fact your wife needs you now more than ever before and if you leave her side the way you did today ever again, trust me when I say you’ll regret it every day of your life.”

“Y/n isn’t dying—“ Much like Jensen was taking his fear of the unknown out on Jake, Jake was just about ready to let loose on the guy who was picking apart his very character. Sure, Jake recognised he wasn’t the best husband, but he also knew you weren’t dying. Not right now, not while he wasn’t by your side.

“I wasn’t either, but as it turns out we all have an expiry date.” Jensen replied. The atmosphere and energy surrounding the two men who were going head to head suddenly shifted. “Some sooner than others, but we all have one, and when yours is up yours is up and there ain't nothing you can do you extend it.”

“You’re—“ Jake couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“A walking corpse.” Jensen finished the sentence he knew Jake was trying to speak into existence. Although he didn’t care to beat around the bush. “So trust me when I tell you that wishful thinking does shit when your body decides it’s had enough.”

“Does Y/n know?” Jake's first worry was how this news, how this detrimental turn of events, would affect you. His heart forgot how to beat inside his chest when he watched Jensen shake his head in response.

“She needs to focus on her own journey, and before I go I need to make sure she has a support system because for a while there I was all she seemed to have.” Jensen explained. There it was, the truth of the matter.

Jake saw it clear as day, the care, the worry, the intention to make sure you had someone there for you because Jensen wasn’t going to be there anymore. You may not have slept with the guy standing before Jake but if Jake knew anything, it was the look of a man who was unequivocally in love with you. He saw his own reflection of Jensen's eyes.

“Go back, apologies, and you fix your marriage man because that woman? That electrifying woman who sees the good in everything doesn’t deserve to go through this alone—and you turning your back on her the second someone made things a little difficult for you isn’t a good representation of the husband she deserves.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Jake asked as he took a second to truly take in Jensens whole argument. The world seemed to go on around them, with doctors and nurses carrying out their daily duties and rounds. Family members walking to and from rooms visiting loved ones. But for Jake and Jensen? The world stopped when it came to you. “You’re in love with my wife, say it.” Jake couldn’t hide the pain in his voice. “Tell me you love her, then this all makes sense.”

“Maybe—“ Jensen tried to play his love for you down into something that was just a social construct. “Maybe I love her, but I don’t get a chance to explore that, you do though.” Jensen was truly trying to hide the pain in his eyes, but Jake could see it all too easily. Jensen knew that. “So if not for yourself, for her, pull your head out of your ass man—“

“I never stopped loving her though.” Jake sighed out in frustration as he sat down on one of the plastic hospital chairs that lined the hallway. Jensen followed soon after, both men decided that the heat of the argument was settling into something more valuable. “I just—I lost sight of what I had.”

“That’s just not a good enough excuse.” Jensen replied as he let his head fall back against the wall. “Listen, I don’t plan on coming back after I leave today.”

Jake didn’t respond, he simply waited for Jensen to explain. But the explanation never came and Jake never pressed. If anything he was kind of relieved in a selfish way.

“If you truly want to fix what’s broken, if you really want to fight for her and be by her side when she needs you the most, you’ll get up and you’ll go back in there and you’ll be the guy who gets to hold her like no one else does.” Jensen pauses momentarily before he continued on. “Because there’s better guys out there Jake, and she shouldn’t have to settle for one who doesn’t appreciate what’s right under his damn nose.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re a better man than me?” Jake asked cautiously, a part of him didn’t want the answer to be yes. But Jake needed to know what the man sitting beside him truly thought. You saw something good inside him, inside both of them.

“I’m not a better man than you Jake—“ Jensen sighed as he stood from his chair. It was getting late, he had said his peace, he had put the fear for a dying man inside Jake Seresin. There wasn’t much more Jensen could contribute to your life besides what he had already given.

“I’m just a man who’s run out of time and has nothing left to lose.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine

249 notes · View notes

schrodingerscougar · 1 month

Text

Note: I don't feel like giving the poor pair a happy ending. I feel guilty for what I did to Soap in the previous part.

(part 2)

Simon had trouble sleeping lately. Every time he fell asleep, he dreamed of his best friend finding out he had kissed his girlfriend that night, and he interrogated him long enough to learn every little detail, from what her lips tasted like to how much they both enjoyed it.

In his dream the story went on as his imagination filled the gap between the kiss and the confrontation. It was full of gentle touches, delicate smiles, and secret meetings. There he knew how soft your skin was and what made you purr like a satisfied cat.

Whenever there was a chance he would remain alone with you somewhere in the hours spent awake, he immediately fled the scene and avoided talking to you. Hearing your voice and looking into your eyes would make him weak in the knees, and seeing that gorgeous smile of yours would be the nail in his coffin.

“What's wrong, Lt?” Johnny asked him one day, looking down at him from behind the bench.

The lieutenant finished the series he was doing, then put the barbell back to its place with the other man's help. He had to come up with something, a lie that could be good enough to avert the Scotsman's attention. “What makes you think I have a problem?”

Johnny let out a sigh after he sat on the floor and pulled up his knees. “I don't know, you're just strange lately. I noticed you've been avoiding my girl and since we work together, it makes things a little complicated.”

My girl. These words were heart-wrenching for Simon, he just wanted to stand up and leave to avoid this conversation. There was nothing he could have said to make the sergeant feel better without telling him about the kiss. The first one was his fault, he knew that, but you kissed him the second time.

“We just had a little argument, that's all. But I don't think that affects our job,” he said eventually.

“All right, I won't ask any more questions, I see you don't want to talk about it. But don't be too hard on her, okay? She was so sad throughout our trip during the leave. I don't want to see her like that again.”

Simon understood now. This relationship was serious from Johnny's point of view, while you–based on the way you've been apparently acting around him–had your doubts lately. It was his fault, he should have controlled himself better.

“All right, fine, I'll talk to her and we'll sort this out,” he promised.

“Thank you.”

So later in the afternoon he went to look for you, hoping you could have a normal conversation. He wasn't afraid that you would be pissed off, he was more terrified of himself not being able to keep his distance. Because he wanted to kiss you again, he wanted to tell you to break up with Johnny, beg you to choose him over his friend.

He found you in an empty briefing room, reading a book in the silence. He knocked on the door and waited for you to let him in. He could see the surprised look in your eyes, the hesitation when it came to letting him in.

“What can I help you with?” you asked as you closed your book.

Simon stepped inside and closed the door. “We need to talk about what happened back then. I want to apologize, I know I shouldn't have done that.”

Your expression softened and you stood up to walk over to him. “I kissed you too, so I should also apologize. But tell me this; do you want more from me? More than just one kiss?” you asked while you reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.

He wanted to be honest, but something told him he shouldn't be. “You're dating Johnny, it doesn't matter what I want.”

“I can... break up with him.”

“No. He loves you too much.”

You let go of him and began to pace the room like a sad ghost. Simon could sense that you wanted more too, but you understood that your boyfriend's feelings were strong enough to make you stay. Breaking up would have broken his heart, and neither of you wanted that.

In the end you came to a halt and said, “I should ask Price to let me work with them. I don't want problems with you.”

“And Johnny?”

“He'll be fine, we can still be together. But if you change your mind, if you want–”

Simon was quick to interrupt you, repeating his previous words. “It doesn't matter what I want. He's my friend, I won't steal his girlfriend.”

“And if his girlfriend likes you?”

“This can never be more than that one kiss. That one time thing,” he clarified.

Before you could say anything, he nodded and left the room, not stopping until he reached his room and laid down on the bed. Saying those things was killing him, making him feel like crying for the first time since he was young. Why couldn't he forget you? Why couldn't you say you had been drink that night and it didn't mean anything? Why didn't you say you understood that being together couldn't happen?

He couldn't help but wonder if he had just forced you to remain in a relationship you didn't want anymore. If you still loved Johnny after what happened. But at the end of the day, it didn't matter. It was none of his business after all.

#ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #mw3 #simon riley x reader #mw2 #modern warfare #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john mactavish #soap #soap x reader #f!reader

114 notes · View notes

wntrs0ldier · 11 months

Text

An Offer · part 07

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 4,5k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.), bucky saying (a lot of) things, + from now on you can expect a smut any moment, so, unfortunately, i won’t be putting that warning >:)

series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

Having sat not far away from Michael, you fixed your gaze on the surface of the small table where your family – when it was still together – used to eat breakfast every morning. Now it was just you, your dead father's advisor and the promise of a better life.

“When?” you asked, but weren't sure if the words had actually left your mouth or if they had only echoed in your head. You lifted your eyes from the tabletop and looked at Michael, your forehead furrowed. The whole situation still seemed too surreal to you. “When did he make the offer?”

The day had basically just begun, and you doubted that Bucky had paid Michael a visit during the night. If he had actually done so, you would have been slightly disappointed; after all, he would still have been a bit tipsy at the time, which would have undermined the sincerity of his intentions. In fact, there was no reason to consider this sincerity at all. You didn't understand. You didn't understand one bit of what was going on.

“He showed up at my door shortly after six in the morning,” Michael answered, therefore turning your stomach into knots. “He looked so ill I thought he was in a hurry before letting out his last breath. As if this offer was to be his last breath.”

Feeling burning under your eyelids, you closed them and gasped heavily. “What, um…” You rubbed your forehead nervously. So far you thought you had managed to rest after last night, but now you felt exhausted; tired from all the unexpected turns you were experiencing. “What now?”

“I will arrange a meeting with Timothy. And I think we'll both want it to be the first and last meeting, so we need to work together, you and I. Barnes have always been our friends, so they won't make uncomfortable conditions. They shouldn't,” Michael added with a tentative grunt.

You nodded as a sign of acceptance of what he said, but in fact all this information flew through the middle of your head, going in one ear and out the other. “What about John?”

“I will notify John properly. For now, do not contact him.”

“But... How does this actually work? Bucky made an offer and John is suddenly cut out?”

“First of all, John Walker didn't exactly behave the way we call making an offer. If he had done that, you would most likely have been married a long time ago. He wanted to do it his way and he miscalculated.” Michael shrugged. “Second, let’s suppose those two would have made an offer at the same time. It all depends on what they have to offer. The Barnes deal is much more beneficial. Nonetheless, we have to approach it delicately and with respect. To avoid offending Alexander Pierce.”

The creaking of the floor drew the attention of you both; you looked towards the kitchen entrance, where your mother stood. She had rarely left her bedroom lately, and you didn't blame her in any way. But perhaps you did resent her a little for the way she looked at you - coldly, with disgust even. She didn't say anything, which was probably the best possible option; you were afraid of hearing confirmation of what she thought of you.

She backed out of the kitchen and most likely went back to her bedroom, and you tried not to think about the fact that your own mother couldn't even bear your company.

The sound of the engine quieted as you turned the keys in the ignition. Up until now, you hadn't given much thought to what you would say or do when you saw him again, but with the Barnes’ house in front of you, your destination began to weigh on you. And this time you also experienced that need to escape, completely ignored by your frozen-in-place body. It was making it clear that there were only two choices – facing it and seeing Bucky, or staying in that car. A quiet retreat and going home was not an option.

Having stood in front of the massive stained-glass door, you pressed the bell button; you heard its sound spread through the interior of the building. You used the time you waited for a response to take a brief look around; the cloudy sky heralded rain.

Mary opened the door. “Oh. Hi,” she said somewhat hesitantly. Which, by the way, was a bit strange, since, seeing you for the first time, she was able to bluntly call you pretty.

“Hi.” You forced a smile as you didn't particularly feel like it. “Is Bucky home?”

“Yeah, he’s in the garage-”

“At the back of the house.” You nodded. “Thanks.”

Walking in the same direction as before, you were completely immersed in your own thoughts; amazed at how much chaos was hidden in that void inside your head.

When you reached the garage and saw the creamy Chrysler again, you let the air out of your lungs. At first glance, there was no sign of Bucky anywhere, and a warm sense of relief embraced you, since you didn’t have to confront him – even if that's what you came here to do. And then he leaned out from behind the car; draped in the cool shadow of the garage, he gazed at you with confusion on his face.

Michael was right; pale, with dark circles under his eyes, Bucky looked ill. Besides, you didn't pay much attention to it, but were sure he was wearing the same dark shirt as last night; only this time untucked, with the sleeves rolled up and a few buttons opened.

“Y/N?” he spoke, as if without certainty or trust towards the fact that you were actually here. Even though he had the proof in front of him. He cautiously walked closer, but didn't dare step outside the garage, still leaving you a huge amount of space.

You watched his face and were able to tell that he was tired; beyond the obvious signs, there was a distraction lurking in his eyes, often coupled with exhaustion. “So, this is how you interpret ‘disappear’ and ‘leave me alone’, hmm?” Your tone was calm, without even a trace of meanness. “You decided I should be your wife when you saw me with another guy's tongue in my throat?” You wince slightly at the mere memory.

Bucky looked away and laughed quietly. He shook his head. “It crossed my mind when you said my name for the first time.” He looked at you, his lips pursed in a slight smile. “When I was leaving your house that night, and you called me. I don't think I've ever heard anything so heavenly in my life. I fell in love with that sound,” he confessed. Your heart jumped, making you wonder when it would get used to Bucky. “And with that sight. Of you in your little nightgown, barefoot, in the rain... And then you asked if I take part in this whole marriage thing, and I remembered what a piece of shit I am.” His smile turned sour. “Anyway... Being part of the most powerful Family in New York has its drawbacks. Someone is always trying to throw you off that fucking throne…” Bucky sighed with weariness. “I thought I… like you too much to put you at risk. Two years ago I would have been first in line for your hand, but when my dad died-” He paused for a brief moment; lowered his eyes and wet his lips nervously. “I stopped believing in the immortality of my name. I couldn't be responsible for you.”

You stared at him almost stunned by the sincerity and softness that flowed from his words, from him himself. “Why did you change your mind?” you asked barely audibly.

“It's a…” He gasped heavily, closing his eyes for a moment. “Complex decision,” he added, then pressed his lips together. Bucky looked at you again. “Maybe I'm a piece of shit, but no worse than Rumlow or Walker. And if these two were so close to making a deal, it just as easily could have been me.” He shrugged helplessly. “And everything you told me last night? Shit, I couldn't just ditch you like that.” His eyebrows drew together, his expression softened. “And-” Bucky stopped, as if he didn't quite know whether he should go on. You didn't interrupt him, letting him know that you wanted to hear every thought wandering through his mind. “I didn't want to lose you just because I was a stubborn asshole.”

You watched his face carefully; every part of it, every muscle that just happened to twitch. You feared that, despite all the affection you had for him, you would resent Bucky for delaying so long. But the truth was that he didn't owe you anything; you weren't surprised that he didn't want to get married – if it hadn't been for your Family, you wouldn't have decided to do such a thing either.

“You don't want this marriage, do you?” you asked without blame. Even though you knew the answer, you wanted to set the record straight. You didn't need uncertainty about what Bucky was feeling.

However, Bucky himself seemed to lack this certainty either. His forehead puckered, his eyes darted away from yours and wandered somewhere, as if chasing for an answer. “I still think marriage is not for me,” he said carefully. “But since I stepped into your life, I can't get out. Getting used to your presence in my own was the easiest to do, I-” He took a shaky breath. Not only could you see that he was not in the best shape; you easily gathered this from his attempts to put together a sentence. However, you were unable to get impatient. “Having you around, being with you… It feels good. Familiar.” Having nibbled absently on the inside of his lower lip, he looked at you again. “So I don't mind having you around all the time. For the rest of my life.”

Intimidated by everything he said, by the softness and tenderness beaming from him, which you didn't expect – mainly because of how he had presented his relationships with women not so long ago – this time it was you who looked away. Your heart would have jumped out of your chest, cracking your ribs in the process, if you had held your gaze on Bucky for a moment longer.

“Thank you,” you finally spoke, lifting your eyes tentatively back to his. “I won't make this any harder for you than it has to be. And I’m not going to be cranky, I promise.”

He laughed weakly. “Promise me something else,” he asked, looking at you with a soft smile. “You’ll be my partner, my ally, my wife. Not a person in my debt. It’s not like you owe me something. Alright?”

“Alright.” You nodded gently.

Neither of you dared to cover even a millimeter of the distance separating you – you stood like that, watching each other; without the need for further conversation, without mutual expectations of who would make the first move. You had your future husband in front of you, and although you still felt a bit lost in this whole bizarre situation, there was not a shred of anxiety in you like there was with John. Bucky was right – it felt good, familiar. Was he supposed to be good to you? You had no idea, but this lack of knowledge did not frighten you.

Suddenly, you felt something cold, wet on the top of your head, face, neck; the rain promised by the cloudy sky, in its own way pleasantly refreshing.

“I should get going. Before it starts to rain for good,” you clarified quickly. “I don’t want to drive when it’s pouring.”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied with understanding. You were relieved that he didn't treat it as an excuse to run away.

Bucky left the garage. You expected him to stay so he could continue working on the Chrysler, but he didn't – he decided to walk you, even though he didn't have to. Smiling to yourself, you quickened your pace and eventually caught up with him.

“You haven't told me how it is with you,” Bucky began as you walked side by side. The rain did not rush you; its almost faint intensity allowed you to take this short stroll. “How do you feel about the whole thing?”

You glanced at Bucky, but immediately looked down, focusing on your own feet. “I'm not as scared as I was before. Maybe I wouldn't even call it scared, but nervous? And that's normal if there's a wedding involved, I guess,” you added without being quite sure who you were trying to comfort. “It's still not an ideal scenario,” you continued, this time more seriously. “But I'm glad it's you. Really.”

Bucky kept his gaze on you for a little longer, but you were unable to fully decode his thoughts. “I'll get the best deal for you. When they’ll be putting the agreement together,” Bucky said. “You know that, right?”

“I knew you wanted the best deal for me when it came to the agreement with Rumlows,” you answered after a moment of hesitation. “But now it's your Family, Bucky.”

“Yeah…” He sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. You didn't suppose it was possible, but he seemed even more tired than before. “Don’t worry. I got this.”

That much was enough; those few words from his mouth to actually make you feel calmer.

You got in your car, Bucky held the door for you, then closed it. You looked out through the rolled-down window.

“Hey, uh…” he began, scratching nervously behind his ear. “Maybe we should go to marriage therapy or something..?”

Your eyebrows rose involuntarily. “Marriage therapy? We aren't even married yet,” you pointed out. Nonetheless, you felt a pleasant pinch somewhere in your stomach; some familiar jump in your chest.

“I really don't know how all this works.” He winced. “I don't want to screw it up.”

“Don’t worry. I got this,” you repeated his earlier words, winking at him. Although you weren't an expert yourself, Bucky didn't need to know that. “That's really sweet of you. That you want the best,” you added affectionately. You couldn't let Bucky feel embarrassed by his – not stupid, by the way – suggestion. “But I think you should get some sleep, it will do you good. Even Michael noticed that you look awful.”

“Well, Michael is not my type either.” He lifted his eyebrows with conviction. You snorted a quiet laugh. “But if you think that too… That changes everything.”

You squinted, an indulgent smile remained on your lips. “Wow. That was smooth.”

“Thanks,” he said with theatrical pride. Amused, you rolled your eyes and started the engine, causing Bucky to step away from the car. “Text me when you get home.”

“I won’t. I don't want to wake you. Because you'll be sleeping, right?” you asked, pushing the button that made the window start to close. Bucky smiled through tightened lips and shook his head disapprovingly.

As the day was drawing to an end, combined with the tousled clouds, the sky resembled shreds of pink cotton candy.

First to get out of the black SUV was Bernie; a big, tall man. Generally, you and Michael shouldn't need a bodyguard on a friend's territory, but getting one was more of a pure procedure. The car was then exited by the driver, for all intents and purposes also a bodyguard; he opened the door for you and offered his hand, helping you out of the higher than usual vehicle. The current situation was reminiscent of the one a few weeks ago, when you were about to meet with Rumlows. The striking difference, however, was that now you didn't feel like you were on death row.

Timothy's house was almost as large as the Barnes mansion, but you didn't give it much thought; even though perhaps you should, that evening you didn't feel like being inquisitive. All you noticed was that the mansion was situated in a more wooded area; there were mostly conifers growing around, and some of the elements outside - such as the big, decorative stones in front of the house – were covered in yellow pollen, indicating that the pines were in bloom.

Michael rang the doorbell and it wasn't long before the housekeeper invited you inside. The decor was dominated by gloomy colors and dark wood; the interior reminded you of a cave.

You stood nearby the entrance to a huge room, presumably a ballroom after removing an already small amount of furniture. On one of the walls was a huge mirror; in fact, it seemed as if the whole wall was a mirror. Being too far away, you couldn’t get a good look at yourself, but – details aside – had a good view of your entire figure. Michael had mentioned that Barnes had made sure the meeting would be elegant, almost solemn; now you understood better why Bucky had reacted with such contempt towards the fact that Brock had invited you to the pub. And since the talks were also going to be different in terms of the setting, you decided to wear a knee-length satin dress, with thin straps and a cowl neckline. The color of the dress was no accident – blue, like Bucky's eyes.

“Follow me, please,” the housekeeper addressed you and Michael with a polite smile. It was then that the stress began to get to you; walking behind the woman, you listened to the clatter of your own heels, so as not to think about what might await you.

The housekeeper led you to a dining room. It was pretty clear that you would see Timothy, but to your surprise, there was also Steve Rogers, sitting next to him at a long table. The one you couldn't find anywhere around was Bucky, causing the panic you were feeling to grow to enormous sizes. Were you supposed to handle it yourself? Or did he give up completely?

Warm hands touched your shoulders a little above the elbows, and embraced them gently with fingers. You immediately looked back, but before you did, a familiar scent of fresh laundry, mint and wet forest reached you, combined with a much more distinct hint of men's perfume and cigarette smoke.

“Hey,” Bucky said quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of the others. “Can I get through?” He raised an eyebrow. Indeed, you were standing close to the entrance of the dining room, yet far away enough that Bucky could easily get past you.

“I thought you'd changed your mind,” you whispered, making a step forward. Bucky took his hands and you turned to his direction. He was wearing a black, tailored suit and a shirt of the same color; he had undone the first two buttons under his neck, most likely allowing himself as much freedom as he could. His hair was tied up tightly in a bun; nevertheless, a few strands managed to escape.

“I didn't. And not going to,” he claimed calmly. His mouth stretched in a lazy, shameless smirk. “You look like an angel.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm with the blush spreading over them, but other than that, you didn't give away that the compliment had gone to your head. “Thank you. You're not so bad yourself.”

“James,” Timothy spoke.

Bucky glanced at him, then returned his gaze to you soon after. “Come on,” he instructed, instinctively placing his hand at your lower back, which you didn't mind in any way.

Shortly after, you took a seat at the table; just like at that meeting at your house, you and Michael on one side, Timothy, Bucky and Steve on the other.

Timothy opened the folder lying in front of him. Having pulled several copies of the document from inside, he gave them out one by one. “We have here those conditions which, after consultations, I considered most appropriate. However, we can still negotiate,” he turned to you.

Everyone at the table had some idea of the mentioned conditions; the agreement was arranged without consulting you. And you had no problem with that, because the truth was you didn't know what you could ask for. Besides, Michael cared about your Family and your father's business, and Bucky promised you the best deal.

Deciding not to waste any more time further delaying the moment which was going to happen anyway, you turned your gaze to the document in front of you.

(...) JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES hereinafter referred to as the HUSBAND, and Y/N Y/L/S hereinafter referred to as the WIFE.

These words were the first to catch your eye, and their meaning sent a shiver down your spine. You didn't pay much attention to the introduction, containing your and Bucky's personal data, in addition, being a pure formality, but this one point was like a bucket of cold water. You were aware of the purposes of this meeting, but seeing the titles that were going to work not only on the paper, but soon in life, felt... strange.

You ran your gaze lower, absorbing line after line of text.

The HUSBAND is obliged to do everything in his power to ensure the safety of the WIFE (...)

The HUSBAND possesses the funds due and is obliged to provide financial comfort to the WIFE. The WIFE is authorized to dispose of the HUSBAND's funds for her own purposes; the amount shall not exceed ...[add]... per month.

The WIFE agrees to transfer to the HUSBAND and the BARNES FAMILY control of her tangible goods, property, etc. including:

Sapphire Dune Casino, New York, State of New York;

Marble Aurora Casino, Atlantic City, State of New Jersey; (...)

A list of your goods and properties included everything Michael had talked about at the meeting with Rumlows – the casinos, shares in the stock market, arms dealing for Stark, the territory, the protection of businesses in that territory, political influence... Things you didn't know much about. Except for one you didn't find.

“What about my gallery?”

“It's not a part of the deal. I've heard that you want it for yourself and I'm fine with that.” Timothy shrugged.

You knew it was to Bucky's credit; that he had done something you didn't have to ask him to do. Apparently he remembered that during your meeting with Rumlows, keeping the art gallery was your only requirement.

“And the real estates?”

“We don’t need them,” Timothy stated right away. “They will be given to your mother and your sister, if you wish, of course.”“Yes,” you agreed, a bit caught off guard by Timothy's generosity. “It would be great.”

Any funds, property benefits, etc. resulting from the activities mentioned above shall be divided between the HUSBAND and the WIFE; 50% (funds/value of property benefits) for the HUSBAND and 50% for the WIFE.

The HUSBAND is obligated to inform the WIFE of all actions carried out on the goods and properties mentioned above. No final decision shall be made without the WIFE's prior consent.

Having read the elements of the contract that interested you most – mainly because you understood them without Michael's help – you pulled your gaze away from the sheet again and looked at Timothy. He slowly slid a pen across the table.

After signing the document, which was more of a pre-agreement – confirmation that you and Michael had seen all the points, you needed a change of scenery. At least for a moment.

Called by Timothy, the housekeeper brought alcohol and a small refreshment, and you took the opportunity to ask for directions to the toilet. Although it was time to settle the details of the wedding, you decided that they would do just as well without you.

You wet your hands with icy water, then placed them on the nape of your neck. Closing your eyes, you let out a heavy breath. If everything had become too real before, it was now beginning to take root in you.

You jumped, hearing a careful knock on the door. “Y/N?” You recognised Bucky's voice effortlessly, so without hesitation you went to open the door for him. “You okay?” he asked, visibly concerned.

“Yeah, yeah…” You gasped.

“Come on.” He opened the door a little wider. “We're going to get some air.”

You nodded and left the bathroom. Bucky led you to the terrace doors, from where you walked out into the garden – unlike Winnifred's garden, the one belonging to Timothy consisted mainly of lawn and undemanding flowerless plants.

The rigid material of the jacket rested gently on your shoulders. You glanced over at Bucky, who was left in just his shirt.

“Having lots of muscles must be great, huh? It is protecting you from the cold?”

Bucky laughed. “Yeah.” Soon, however, only a light smile was left on his face. “Was that so bad?”

“Surprisingly good,” you objected. “Why is this deal so... perfect?”

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he shrugged. “That's probably the only perfect thing that will come out of marrying a gangster.”

You tried not to think about this prophecy. “And Timothy just agreed to all this?”

“Yeah. As long as I know what I'm doing. He also said I’m doing it at my own risk, so…”

As you lifted your eyes from the lawn and brought them to Bucky, you caught his gaze. He was studying you with calm, gentleness.

“I need you to promise me one more thing,” he said. Although his face did not express anything threatening, you felt a slight uneasiness. You gave him a questioning look. “I'll be the best husband I can be, and I'll do anything you want me to do, but you have to promise me-” he paused for a brief moment. “If you ever love someone, I have to know. You will tell me.”

“Bucky-”

“Please,” he insisted, his voice cracking barely audibly.

Staring at him cluelessly, you let out a short breath through slightly parted lips. “Okay,” you gave up. “I’ll tell you. I promise.”

“Thank you. Now, stick your hands out,” he instructed. You frowned, but followed the command anyway. Bucky pulled his hands out of his pockets, one clenched into a fist, the other gently grabbed your left hand. He loosened his fist and inside it you noticed a small velour box; he opened it, revealing a ring. Gold, with a large gemstone in the shape of a pointed ellipse, and smaller stones surrounding it. “It was my grandma's.”

Hearing this, you reflexively pulled your hand back, but Bucky strengthened his grip. “Are you kidding? I can't take it!”

“You can. And you will.” He raised his eyebrows, got the ring out of the box and slipped it onto the right finger. “See? It fits.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, bringing your hand closer to your face to scrutinize the ring. “It's really beautiful,” you admitted honestly. “But are you sure it's a good idea? Giving a family heirloom to me?”

“I’m sure,” he claimed after some silence, but without the slightest hesitation. “From the moment we get into this marriage you will be protected by my Family. By my name. And by my own body,” he said with a strange calmness, while your heart was racing faster and faster. “You are the right person to wear this ring.”

“Oh, Jamie…” you whined. “Don't even say such things.”

“I don't have to say these things, and you know it.”

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #mob bucky #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky #bucky #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky x y/n

543 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 11 months

Text

Pour Some Sugar On Me | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley loves it when you take time out of your busy day to give him a little treat. He knows how smart and capable you are, and he is going to work so hard to be your star student.

Warnings: Fluff, swears and smut

Length: 2100 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! This was written for a request.

Check my profile for my masterlist

Bradley had become accustomed to a certain way of life since you moved to San Diego. And it involved a lot of dirty sex on campus at San Diego State University where you worked. Your office door had a lock. And so did the library study rooms. Although he was partial to the study rooms in Virginia, he had to admit these ones were very nice, too.

The fact that you and he had been messing around in study rooms at two different colleges on either side of the country had him smiling every time he met you on campus. He could get hard just thinking about it.

When he occasionally called you on his way home to see if you were still working, he always asked you the same thing. "Do you have time to pour some Sugar on me?"

You always laughed, but you were usually game to meet him for a quickie before he went home to make dinner. This was his routine, and he loved it.

On Friday, when you were kissing his lips softly while he helped you pull your skirt back down, he whispered, "I'm going to head home and make spaghetti. And I'm taking your underwear with me."

You moaned into his mouth as your fingers skimmed along his uniform insignia pins. "So I'll just be a mess until I get home then?"

"Uh huh," he confirmed. "And then I'll feed you dinner and mess you up again."

You kissed him one more time before you promised to be home soon, and then you unlocked the study room door. "Oh, don't forget, I have to be on campus tomorrow morning. I have to take those proficiency exams using the school's wifi connection."

Bradley linked his fingers with yours and just mumbled, "But, Sugar, I love to sleep in with you on Saturday mornings. When I don't, it feels like I'm deployed or you're at a conference."

You looked up at him like he was the sweetest thing you had ever seen. "Sorry, Beer Boy. But we can always get back in bed when I get home."

But Bradley already had a plan.

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

Your desk was a mess with papers, and you were tired and hungry, and now you were going to have to take a series of California state mandated math proficiency exams while you tried not to chew your arm off. Because you left your lunch at home.

You know you shouldn't have skipped breakfast today, but you were running late, and Bradley kept kissing you and telling you to stay in bed. You leaned back in your chair and listened to your stomach growl as you thought about whatever Bradley was making for lunch today.

Then there was a knock at your door. Of course. Because you had just kicked your shoes off underneath your desk, and now you couldn't find the left one with your foot.

"Come in!" you called, hoping you could get rid of this person without having to stand up since you were wearing shorts and only one shoe.

"Hey, Sugar."

You laughed as soon as you saw him in his jeans and the tie dye shirt that you had claimed as your own. "What are you doing here?" You walked around your desk with one shoe on and hugged Bradley tight.

"Brought you lunch," he replied, holding out a container of food that was still warm, and you moaned as you opened it. He handed you a fork as well, and you started digging in.

"How did you know I was starving?"

He plopped down in your desk chair and made grabby hands until you sat on his lap. "I didn't know. I just missed you." He kissed your neck and shoulder around your tank top while you ate, and his hands started to explore your bare thighs.

"Beer Boy," you warned, glancing at the time on your computer as you set down the fork and empty container. Your next exam was going to start in about five minutes.

He whispered. "I just want a little Sugar. Pour some Sugar on me?"

His words were low and a little rough, and you felt yourself clenching at nothing as he whispered your name and nosed his way along your collarbone. "But I have a test," you complained as you stood to lock your door. And then he was making grabby hands again before you watched him reach down to run his hand along his cock through his jeans. His erection was so pronounced, your mouth was watering with need.

"I can wait until you're done with it," he promised, but then when you started unzipping your shorts, his eyebrows shot up. "Hell yes."

You kicked off your right shoe and stepped out of your shorts and underwear as Bradley unzipped his jeans. His eyes were glued to your every move. "If we do this, you need to behave," you warned, standing in front of him between his spread thighs, facing your desk. You bent over to log into your exam, and his hands came up to gently caress your rear end. When you wiggled it for him, he moaned.

"What exactly is happening here?" he grunted.

You looked at him over your shoulder, and his eyes were wide with intrigue. "Pull your jeans down, and I'll warm your cock while I take this exam."

He was immediately pulling down his pants and boxer shorts and stroking himself. "Oh fuck. Sugar. You're gonna kill me, baby."

You just smirked and he moved the chair a little closer to you.

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

Bradley reached for your hips as you sat back on his lap with that gorgeous ass. You were going to take a math exam with him inside you. A timed, mandated math exam. With his cock inside your pussy. "Okay, Professor Sugar." It was like a fantasy roleplay, and he needed to be good and stay still so you'd pass your test.

"Mmm," you hummed as you gripped his cock and slid your pussy down around him until you were sitting snug against his balls.

Bradley panted as he tried his best not to move, but your ass looked so pretty and you were pulsing gently around him. He held your hips and leaned forward to kiss the back of your neck. Then you propped your feet up next to his thighs and arched your back as you leaned one elbow on your desk. "It's about to start," you whispered, looking at him over your shoulder.

He had to force his gaze up to meet your eyes as he stroked his fingers along your ass. "How long is it?" he asked, voice hoarse and needy.

"Thirty minutes," you replied, and then you turned back to your computer. "But I'll try to be quick." Bradley watched you answer three questions in a row that he couldn't even understand. Every time you hummed or clicked your tongue, his eyes rolled back, and he had to work to regain his focus. When you eventually had to pull your calculator out of your desk to solve one of the problems, he found that insanely hot.

"Sugar?" he groaned, pushing himself deeper inside you. When you wiggled your hips and glanced at him, you shook your head with a smirk.

"I need to finish this, Beer Boy. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself."

He tipped his head back and took a deep breath while stroking his fingers along your thigh. "But you're so fucking tight. All I want to do it fuck you."

When he bit his lip and managed to get control, he looked over your shoulder again, groaning in your ear. You were on problem ten, scribbling down some nonsense on a sheet of notebook paper that he supposed meant something to you. "How many questions are there?" he asked, rubbing his mustache along your neck and inhaling your scent. He thought that would calm him down; it only made it worse.

"Thirty questions," you said softly, turning to kiss his lips softly. "You can do it. This is fucking hot."

"So damn hot!" he readily agreed, chasing your lips as you turned back toward your computer. "Fucking hot," he grunted, palming your ass in both of his hands. You were a third of the way done. He could hang on a little longer.

"Oooh, linear algebra," you mumbled happily, and your pussy clenched around him.

"Fuck! Sugar, are you getting turned on by math?" He dug his fingers into your thighs to keep himself still.

"I always get a little hot for a good linear algebra problem," you muttered, once again scribbling down some numbers. "You know that."

"Some things never change," he grunted, thinking about how you'd sit on his lap in the study room at UVA and pause your work to have sex with him. This was the same thing. Somehow he was still living that same dream more than ten years later.

"This exam is not actually that hard," you remarked, selecting answers for problems fourteen through seventeen without too much fuss.

"Something else is definitely hard," Bradley panted, thrusting involuntarily.

"It's a lot easier than I thought it would be," you said as you grinned at him over your shoulder.

"Are you kidding me right now, Sugar? I can't understand any of it, and I've been reading it over your shoulder." But he was getting desperate now. Every time you turned and looked at him, he thought he was going to finish.

"I'm almost done," you promised when you turned back to the screen.

"Me too," he growled, shaking his head. "If your ass didn't look so perfect just chilling in my lap like this, I'd be a lot better off."

"You're strong, Bradley. I have faith."

But now you were starting to clench around him again as you entered something into your calculator. "God, you're so fucking smart. Makes me insane for you, Professor Sugar."

"Be my star student, Lieutenant Bradshaw, and don't cum quite yet."

He was such a goner. All he could do was count slowly backwards from one hundred and try to enjoy your tight warmth around him while holding himself off. Fingers digging into your ass, he knew he wasn't going to be good for much longer. "Baby?"

You reached back and grabbed his left hand with yours and guided his fingers to your clit. "Three more questions," you whispered as he stroked you, making you gasp.

"You can answer them while I touch you?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed.

"You're a fucking genius," he said before he nibbled on your neck and eased his right hand up inside your shirt to your tattoos. He knew where they were by heart. And he knew how to get you off with his fingers like an expert.

By the time you were working on the last problem, he was whispering, "You got this. Come on, baby." And when you clicked the Submit icon at the bottom, you and Bradley both saw your score before he grabbed you by your hips and stood, still buried deep inside you.

"100%. Perfect score. You're perfect," he grunted as you planted your hands on your desk while he railed you.

"Oh god!" you moaned as his fingers found your clit again, the slapping of his thighs meeting yours filling the room.

"Math makes you hot, and that makes me hot," he growled as he fucked you harder. "And it always will."

You arched your back as he whispered your name and came so hard, he was shaking. No longer able to form coherent words, he kept his fingers moving against you while he fucked his cum deeper inside you.

Then you were whining and bucking back against him, and then he could feel you squeezing him so sweetly. "Yes, yes, yes," you chanted as you came.

When you caught your breath, Bradley withdrew himself from you. He helped you get cleaned up and get your shorts back on, and then you curled up in his lap in your desk chair.

"You got a perfect test score while I was inside you."

You kissed along his scars and his mustache and laughed. "I guess all that time sitting on your lap and studying really paid off."

Bradley wrapped his arms around you and hummed in agreement. "You wore me the fuck out, Teach. Please take me back home for a lazy Saturday afternoon in bed."

"Anything for my star student."

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

This was written for a request as well as for my friend Jay @thedroneranger who really wanted some Beer Boy and Sugar love with this song title!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

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

742 notes · View notes