#friday mission failed....?

[lostgirlmuseum]

honey

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: Bucky notices you've been acting really strange lately... like, really strange. And flirty? What happened to you, and are your eyes... glowing?

Warnings: Mentions of reader having hair long enough to twirl, kissing w/o consent??? No use of y/n.

A/N: Hiiii. um. Is this bad? At first I didn't think so but then Idk I was like.. this isn't good. But then I was like, no it's fine... and then I was like no it's terrible, and now I'm like.. it's okay! I think? I'm sorry.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics, moodboard by me (more info at the end.)

It was late, and you felt sleep tug at your eyelids as you shut the door to the communal living room, a room you had to pass through to get to your bedroom. You were ready to get out of your street clothes, dry your damp hair, and get some shut-eye.

“Where have you been?” A gruff voice sounded and was quickly followed by the ‘click’ of a lamp and a dim light illuminating the figure seated in the corner of the room.

“Jesus!” You clutched your chest and nearly dropped your bag. “Fuck, Bucky, you scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing lurking in the dark?” You whispered harshly, although it was unnecessary. No one sleeping would be able to hear you from the living room.

“It’s three in the morning.” He stated, unmoving.

“I’m aware. Thanks.” 

“This is the sixth time in two weeks you’ve come home this late.” His voice remained low, his tone both bored and accusatory.

“So you’re watching me now?” You scoffed, your heartbeat finally slowing from his previous scare.

“Our rooms are right next to each other, I know when you’re not in there.” 

“Perv.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m going to ignore that.” 

“Good night,” you offered and began to leave the room.

“You haven’t answered my question yet.” He leaned forward in his seat and placed his forearms on his thighs.

“My whereabouts aren’t your business.” You stopped at the doorway and spoke over your shoulder.

“Your whereabouts became my business the second it started affecting your ability in the field.” He stood up and took a couple of steps towards you.

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I worry that your negligence and refusal to take care of yourself is going to result in a failed mission, or maybe even you getting a fellow teammate hurt.”

“Aw, and for a second I thought you might actually care about me.” You faked a pout and continued your way down the hall and to your room. He followed you the entire way, not saying anything. 

“My abilities are fine,” you stated, holding your ID up to the pad that would scan and unlock your door.

“You’ve been missing morning training, you’re slower than usual, and you’ve practically been falling asleep in your breakfast.” He sidestepped you to get a better view of your face.

You ignored Friday’s “Welcome back,” chime and stepped inside your room.

“Careful now, or I might start to suspect you’re a stalker.” You teased and began to close your door on him, but he pushed it back open.

“And why the hell is your hair damp? Because I know it wasn’t raining outside.”

“I’m going to bed now, Barnes.”

“If you don’t tell me where you’ve been I’ll bring my concerns to Steve.”

You rolled your eyes at his intense stare. “I’ve been doing some research.”

“On?” He lowered his hand from the door at your answer, secretly surprised you’d actually given him something.

“Nunya.”

“What’s—”

“Nunya business,” you laughed and slammed the door shut before he realized what you’d done.

You stifled a laugh at the grumbles you heard from behind your door and imagined how funny he looked out there. Fool.

Bucky stood at the kitchen counter pouring syrup on his waffles, trying his hardest not to think about the events of last night. Just as his frustration was slipping his mind, he heard footsteps entering the room. 

“Hi,” he offered roughly, not bothering to look up from his waffles as he could sense that it was you.

“Hey, pretty baby.”

Bucky choked on air and dropped the syrup bottle onto his plate, regrettably spilling half the container onto his now soggy waffles.

“Wh—what?” he tried to compose himself, eyebrows pinched in shock and confusion as he finally looked up at you.

“Pass me that peach, won’t you? I’m famished.” You slid onto a seat at the counter that Bucky was on the other side of, and pointed to the fruit bowl to his right.

Bucky, suddenly too stunned to speak, wordlessly handed you the peach. Only after watching you take a couple of bites did he find his words again. 

“What’s up with you?” He asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

“A girl can’t be hungry?” You wiped some juice from your mouth with the back of your hand and tilted your head innocently.

“What are you wearing?” His gaze shifted to your glamorous outfit, one he was shocked that you owned. He had never seen you dressed up so much. 

“Oh, this?” You glanced down at your scarlet silk slip dress and set your peach on the counter. “Just a little something I found buried in the back of my closet. Do you like it?” You stood and gave him a little spin. 

Bucky blushed and snapped his mouth shut, wondering how long he had his jaw dropped. Before Bucky could process what was happening, you had made your way in front of him and grabbed his vibranium arm.

“Stunning,” you breathed, inspecting it like you’d never really noticed it before. Bucky continued to stare as you laced your fingers, of which were adorned by many rings, with his metal ones. You held it up appreciatively.

Bucky swallowed as his gaze found your wrist. “That’s Tony’s watch.”

“I found it. Shiny, right? He won’t miss it.” You giggled, continuing to ogle his hand.

Bucky began to utter your name, but the word was cut off by your pointer finger meeting his lips, effectively shushing him. 

“Don’t call me that,” you ordered, and Bucky could sense your hostility, though it was quickly fading.

“You mean your name?” He mumbled once your hand receded.

“Call me Honey.” You grinned, voice smooth and silky again.

“Why?”

You brought his metal hand up to hold your cheek and used your other hand to gently grab his chin. Bucky could’ve sworn your eyes had a subtle gold sheen. You watched his pinched brows rise as you guided his lips to yours. The kiss lasted no more than three seconds before you pulled away, smirking at the way he gawked.

“Because I’m sweet?” You brazenly offered, leaving him a final kiss on his stubbled cheek. “I’ll see you later,” you smiled and walked away without glancing back once.

Bucky stood dazed, jaw loosely open again, blue eyes wide. Snapping himself out of it, he looked at the clock. 9:32. Bucky was certain you first walked in at 9:20. How long had he been standing there alone in shock? 

He whipped his head around the room for any hidden cameras or even a sign that he had imagined the whole thing. Maybe he was daydreaming? But his eyes fell onto the half-eaten fruit abandoned on the counter, and he subconsciously licked his lips. 

A subtle peach flavor lingered on his tongue.

“You’re seriously telling me you haven’t noticed anything off about her?” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Sam stretch for his run.

“I’ve hardly seen her lately,” Sam mumbled, bent over and touching his toes.

“She kissed me.”

“Ha, sure.” 

“Sam, she kissed me.”

“Wait,” Sam shot upwards and nearly tripped from the movement, “you’re serious? When? Why?”

“This morning. I don’t know why. She was acting—I don’t know! Weird!” 

“I would say kissing you is a solid indication of weirdness.”

Bucky ignored his comment.

“I swear, I saw her eyes glow…or shimmer, or something,” he added, looking off distantly.

“Cool it, loverboy,” Sam laughed.

“No,” Bucky grabbed Sam’s shoulder, tired of not being taken seriously, “I mean literally glow. Like, gold.”

“Where is she now?”

“Not sure.”

“Okay, well as long as she’s not hurting anybody I’m sure it’s nothing to be too concerned about. Maybe she’s wearing colored contacts? It’s a thing now.”

The next day Bucky knocked on your door. You opened it, and Bucky was surprised to see you covered in triple the amount of jewelry you had yesterday. Gold and silver bangles lined your arms, countless rings covered your fingers, and you even had some shiny new clips in your hair. He did notice that you still only had on a single necklace, the same golden topaz pendant you had yesterday.

“Hello, pretty boy.” You greeted, voice sickeningly sweet.

“Where did you go last night?” Bucky asked, straight to the point. He was more worried than ever now with your late-night adventures.

“Why? Worried I was with someone? Don’t be jealous, Darling.”

“You’re not in your right mind,” he said, catching the way your eyes shone again.

“My mind is perfectly clear, Sarge.” You smiled and shook your head at him like he was a child.

“I really don’t think so, ‘Honey’. Until yesterday, I wouldn’t have described you as a kleptomaniac.”

“It’s not a crime to like shiny things.” You laughed like he was the one being preposterous. 

“But it is a crime to steal them. Cough it up.” Bucky snapped his fingers and held his hand out. He knew none of them were yours, and he wondered how many unsuspecting strangers you managed to con.

“You’re such a tease.” You tried but saw that he wasn’t going to budge. “Ugh, fine.”

One by one, you removed your collection from your body, starting with your diamond earrings. Bucky continued to place the jewelry in his many jacket pockets as you handed them over.

“Tony’s watch, too,” he chided when he noticed you made no effort to remove it. You gave a dramatic huff and unclasped it.

You had given him everything except the necklace and he was getting impatient. 

“You’re being a child, give me the necklace—”

“No!” You screamed and swatted away his hand as it stretched toward your neck. “Don’t you fucking touch it.” You snarled.

“Jesus—” He nearly pissed his pants, he had never seen you so aggressive.

“I keep the necklace.” It was not a question.

“Fine.”

“You can leave. You’ve stolen my joy.” Your sultry and sweet demeanor had completely vanished, leaving you with a cold stare. 

It was clear the instant you bared your teeth at him that the necklace was the culprit of your personality transplant and gilded eyes. 

The big question was how was he going to get it off of you? And would taking it off of you be enough to fix you?

And does he even want to?

I mean, you are much nicer to him this way…

God, stop it Bucky! She needs your help. Start thinking with your brain.

Bucky cooked up a plan, and it involved more jewelry.

“I come with a peace offering.” Bucky knocked on your door, not too differently than how he did the day before.

“What is it?” You asked, cracking the door open in curiosity.

Bucky gave an awkward smile and held up a gold necklace he got Natasha to lend him.

“Oh my God, it’s magnificent,” you cooed, opening the door fully to let him in.

You had a one-track mind.

“Do you want me to help you put it on?” Bucky offered, hoping it would be that easy to fix you. It was simple—trade your cursed ‘voodoo doodoo’ necklace for a normal one.

“I’ll wear it later…I like the one I have on now.” You nodded, protectively clutching the golden gem.

Okay, so not as simple as he’d hoped.

“Fair enough. It is very pretty.”

“I know.” You smirked and took a seat on the side of your bed.

Bucky did his best to casually sit next to you.

“Where can I get one?” He asked, eyes lingering on your black skirt.

“You like shiny things too, handsome?” You asked, walking your fingers teasingly up his arm.

“Sure.” He suppressed a shiver as your fingers got closer to his neck.

“I hate to burst your bubble,” you laughed, bringing your hands to cup the pendant, “but this necklace is one of a kind.”

“And how did you get your hands on it?” He asked, trying to keep his voice light enough that you wouldn’t suspect his ulterior motive.

You bit your bottom lip as you thought of whether to tell him. You rolled your eyes playfully, “I’ll tell you a little, but only because you’re so cute.”

Cute? Fuck, you might be more fucked up than he thought if you’re thinking he’s cute.

“Someone hired me a couple of weeks ago to find it. I guess they were a fan, familiar with my investigative research before joining your ‘big league’ Avengers. I did a lot of work to find this puppy.” Your eyes only seemed to glow brighter when you stared at it. 

Bucky knew he had to play this safe. If he took the immediate hostile route of ripping the necklace off of you, he’d be risking it failing, and then you wouldn’t trust him again. He realized he needed to give you another reason to get close to him, and his next thought made his cheeks warm.

“Why are you getting so blushy, soldier? Do I make you nervous?” You giggled.

“More than you realize,” he chuckled and let his gaze fall to his feet.

“You are just the sweetest thing. I’ve always taken a liking to you.”

“You have?” Bucky swung his head to you at your disclosure.

“How could I not?”

Come on Bucky. You can do this. Be a man.

You’re doing this for her. You’re doing this for her. You’re doing this also a little bit for yourse— no, you’re doing this for her!

“Can I kiss you?” He rushed, his voice only cracking once.

“You don’t need to ask, sweet thing.”

Bucky took a deep breath and closed his eyes, not wanting to see your distorted honey eyes bore into his. He leaned forward, met your plush lips, and slid one hand to your shoulder. One second you’re kissing, and the next he’s yanking the chain from your neck so quickly that you barely had time to scream.

The impact of his effort left you falling onto the floor and clutching your neck, heaving like you’d just come up for air after being underwater for much too long.

Bucky called your name and fell to his knees beside you, instinctively putting a hand on your back to console you.

“Hey, you’re okay! You’re okay,”

You looked up from the carpet into his worried eyes and let out a sharp sob. 

“I don’t—I don’t even know what—” your stutters quickly dissolved and with a gasp, your hands flung from your neck to your mouth as if you couldn’t believe what you’d done. “Oh, Bucky, I’m so—I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, I know it wasn’t you,” he rushed, simply wanting that look off of your face.

“Stupid, so stupid,” you sputtered, and he couldn’t tell if you were referring to yourself or the necklace.

“Where did you get this?” Bucky asked, lifting the cursed pendant that he had yet to drop.

“A boat wreck just off the coast,” you said, itching at your neck.

“So that’s why your hair was wet…and someone’s been paying you? To find this?”

You nodded your head and pushed back the hair that fell into your face.

“Who?” Bucky gently grabbed your jaw to get you to look at him. “Why do they want it?”

“I don’t know, some art collector? They didn’t give me a name." You winced. "Can you please get that thing out of my sight? It’s making my head hurt.”

He glanced at the necklace, “Of course, I’m sorry,” and tossed it behind him.

You sat quietly for a moment, just thinking. You groaned and began to stand up. Bucky quickly offered his assistance.

“Buck, can we do this another night? I really just need to…I need to sleep this off I think.”

He quickly nodded, secretly embarrassed at being essentially kicked out, and shuffled to the door. Just as he was about to close it behind him, you called for him to wait. 

Confused, he turned to see you racing up to him. You stood, gave a shy grin, and leaned in to give him a light kiss on the cheek. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. "For saving me."

A chill crawled up Bucky’s spine. 

He barely caught the golden glint in your eyes.

A/N: Maybe I should've spent longer on this, but I just got to the point where I felt like I needed to just post it. Please let me know if you liked it!

My Masterlist

image 1 image 2 image 3

*I edited using good ol' picsart

#bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky angst #bucky barnes

[yourstrulyrika]

breeding kink with leon bc :3 i love him

also um working on a theme but i am pretty busy these days yk. i’ll try to post more sorry about that!! its friday now so :3 it’s more of a short drabble to get myself back into writing

no warnings, fem!reader, lots lots of cum bc i love breeding kink. and size kink btw

Leon didn’t think of himself as a family man. quite the opposite, he never thought of starting a family. but.

the thought of filling you up with his cum switches something in Leon’s mind at the sight of you full of cum. it’s primal, almost.

sometimes, after a long mission, he just puts you in mating press, legs on his shoulders, pressing them to your chest. you feel hazy, head empty with how well he’s filling you up. his hands are holding yours so tight in a protective grip, fingers twined with yours, his head buried in your shoulder as he fucks you in missionary. Leon loves missionary because he can kiss your pretty face, be close to you, put his head on your chest and suck on your breasts. Leon always knows how to make you feel good, with his cock pistoning in and out of you at a ruthless pace.

“Fuck, gonna fill you up, knock you up yeah? you’d look so pretty with a swelled belly.” he speaks to you with that hot, breathy tone, making your heart flutter at the mere thought, too. Leon’s voice is something that never fails to arouse you further.

Leon’s going on autopilot at one point. just pure desire to stuff you full, breed you until you’re filled to the brim. he pulls you into a deep kiss, arching his hips to massage your cervix. he makes sure to not go too rough though, to not squish you under his weight since he’s so big compared to you. his hand moves from yours to rest on your belly, gently pressing it to feel his cock sliding in and out of you, feeling the bulge that’s forming on your lower abdomen. fuck he swears he’s about to cum just from feeling this.

“Gonna stuff my cum in you, goddamn, you’re so pretty, love you so fucking much, taking my cock so good.” he pants out, pulling you into a deep kiss and taking your hand in his again. to Leon, holding hands during sex is a habit. he always does it, needs to feel you, touch you, reassure you this way.

he feels you squeezing him so well, his fat cock making you see stars and eyes roll back. he feels proud of himself whenever you’re like this, it’s just so damn hot. he’s swelling inside you, his length throbbing as he’s reaching his edge. he’s rubbing your clit, fingering you so you cum before him. he always makes sure you cum before him, and if he does cum faster, he makes up for it with his mouth, fingers or just pumps into you until you cum.

only when you cum, he’s thinking about himself. he bursts his white seed into your warmth, emptying his balls deep in your guts. he pulls out of you after a moment, just admiring the sight of his cum leaking out of you. he pushes it back with his fingers, making sure everything stays inside before pulling you into his arms, kissing your forehead.

“You’re killing me, baby. Love you so much.” he whispers into your ear, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

#leon kennedy #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut

[yandere-romanticaa]

🍂 tear you apart.

❝ i want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart. as i whisper in your ear - i want to fucking tear you apart. ❞

yandere! various! ghostface! characters x gn! reader.

inspired by the song "tear you apart" by she wants revenge.

just a compilation of characters that i think would be interesting for this. happy friday the 13th!

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 ! (genshin impact.)

After years of training and endless carnage, it's only natural for a person to develop specific tastes for the darker aspects of life. Battle and blood were Childe's bread and butter but due to his friendly and frankly charming exterior no one could tell that the young man was a ruthless killer.

Provided that he hides his Harbinger status that is.

There were times when his status was a hastle but there were always some perks, always some string for him to pull and make everything go in the way he wanted them to go. Sometimes, that would include people.

But now, that included you.

Upon first meeting him there was an addictive and boyish charm to the ginger haired man and he had you completely wrapped around his fingers. His pockets were deep but so was his heart and frankly, how dare you just steal it? How dare you be so careless? Don't get him wrong, he wasn't mad per say but he still wanted to teach you a lesson or two, just to make it all stick to your feeble little mind.

He started with your neighbors first.

Childe watches comfortably from high above, hidden away in a tea shop as natives of Liyue Harbor scamper back to their homes as darkness nears. A serial killer is on the loose and the shop owner in which Childe was in had no idea that he just served the man responsible for the deaths of 3 different families. He sipped his tea with content, his heart pounding with excitement. The blade in his pocket was itching for its next victim but he had to be patient.

Patience was a virtue after all.

And once he was done, he was going to claim his prize.

In the meantime, he was going to be nothing less than a sweet and doting friend who was just worried for you. It was only a matter of time when you would fall into his greedy hands and you didn't even know it.

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐆𝐎𝐋 ! (bungo stray dogs.)

Meeting him was not by choice but you were bound by fate, or so the clown liked to tease.

He stopped you on the street in order to show you a card trick. It was simple but it did the job, he impressed you even if just barely. You'd sigh and turn your head but Nikolai did not fail to see the blush on your cheeks.

He was a man on a mission. Why not indulge himself, just for a little bit?

The public always was fond of a good show and why not give them one in the form of a crazy mass murderer? Donning on a mask and a long black cape his escapade began, his ability was so useful for this.

However, you were always his favorite target.

It started out small, at first. He would use his ability to touch you and to steal your things, particularly if he knew you were alone at home. Seeing that confused expression on your face became a past time of his. His fingers would brush against your cheeks, his touch barely there, like a wandering phantom. Sometimes he would be bolder and press his hand gently against your ribs, maybe even be cheeky and smack your behind ever so playfully.

After a few weeks of this song and dance, watching wasn't enough.

You answered his first call, which pleased him greatly. He gave you impossible riddles and forced you to answer humiliating and degrading questions, all under the threat that he was in your house and was going to kill you lest you complied.

Of course, he had no intentions of doing that. Perhaps he would one day. But for now, he would continue to paint the streets crimson with blood and make you squirm in your seat.

It became his reason for living.

𝐊𝐀𝐅𝐊𝐀 & 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 ! (honkai star rail.)

Ah, these two psychos. Where do I start?

Their plans are at first glance, all over the place. Attacks are random and they do not necessarily always go for the big fish too. Sometimes it's a poor street vendor who was just doing their job but his life meant nothing in the end.

Kafka was the main mastermind. Blade was the one who did most of the dirty work.

Her plans were meticulous, deadly. She would come crawling to you from the shadows, her jacket draped over your shoulders as she'd coo into your ear, her face bloody from her latest victim as she toyed with her mask, a carefree smile on her face. You couldn't see him but Blade was also behind you, his presence was impossible to miss. He was large and imposing, like a phantom that couldn't find peace.

Could you perhaps give him something that he couldn't have? If he can't have you in life, can he have you in death?

There was no escaping them, never ever. Dare to try and there would be consequences.

They were so in love with you to the point of madness. The question was - were they going to keep you alive and leashed or were they just that insane to stab you in the heart?

If they can't have you, no one can.

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 ! (Moriarty the Patriot.)

The streets of London are filled to the brim with gossip and paranoia as the Lord of Crime made his move the previous evening, slaughtering yet another poor noble in his family home. The papers reported that his own children found the corpse, the poor little things.

You hurried to show William the morning paper, morbidly curious about his opinion on this.

Said man could be found lounging about in a cushy, plush red love seat, a hot cup of tea served in front of him by none other than his brother. The two were lost in their own chatter until you abruptly stopped them. Like a sudden storm you pounced on William, his red eyes widening in shock as he tried to calm you down with a sweet smile on his face. You bombarded him with endless questions - who could do something like this, why was it this messy, was the killer sending a message? - all of it came out at such lightning speed that William didn't really understand half of what you said.

It was wrong to corner him like this and let out your frustrations on the man this early in the morning. You knew every single person that died in these past few weeks, all of which were either minor annoyances or massive obstacles in your day to day life.

When it came down to it, their only connection was with you.

Was the police going to come knocking at your door? It was possible! You had no involvement with the crimes but it was incredibly suspicious how everything was connected, like a spiderweb that was being crafted day by day.

It was difficult for William to keep his smirk concealed that morning.

Hours had passed since that interaction and he was back at it, his new victim. He incorporated the fact that you were most likely going to be incriminated in this scheme but it was still in his best interest. It was not difficult to tamper with evidence and blackmail people if need be and best of all, you would always come running to him, scared and worried, for both yourself and the people around you. It was beyond precious how you tell him to not go after sun down, how you made sure to check to see if he was injured or ill.

If you kept doting him like this, he might just slit the throat of every single person that steps foot into London.

#halloween special #yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere x you #genshin impact #childe #childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere blade #hsr blade #kafka #kafka x reader #yandere kafka x reader #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail #blade honkai #yandere kafka #nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai #bungo stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere nikolai gogol #moriarty the patriot

[littleredwolf]

Compromised

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Words: 1,438

Summary:  An undercover mission goes awry, but Bucky had good reason to blow his cover.

Warnings: Mentions of intended sexual assault, brief mention of using alcohol as a coping mechanism, blood. 

--

Your mind was a battlefield as you wrestled with your thoughts, contemplating your options and trying not to give into the panic that was creeping in. 

You'd been working undercover alongside Bucky for weeks, tracking an asset that could provide valuable intel on a new terrorist organisation that had recently cropped up. When your target had sent some of his cronies to request a meeting with the super soldier, you'd been less than enthused. 

"Don't worry, doll. I'll only be gone for an hour, tops."

Bucky's reassuring words rang in your ears as you paced the motel room, the ticking of the giant clock on the wall taunting you with every second that passed. He'd promised an hour, yet it had been almost three. 

Your worry gnawed at your insides. You couldn't risk compromising the mission, but you couldn't sit around waiting for the worst either. Digging out the burner phone you'd packed for an emergency, you dialled the only number you'd saved on the contact list. 

"Steve, I've lost Bucky," you blurted before he even had the chance to speak. 

There was a long pause before he replied.  

"Okay...how long has he been gone?"

"Almost three hours…"

"You didn't think to call sooner!?" 

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you felt a headache coming on. 

"I didn't know what to do! He was only supposed to meet the asset and touch base, it wasn't supposed to take this long!" 

"It's okay, Y/N, we'll find him," Steve reassured as he picked up on the increasing panic in your tone. 

"Is his tracker still on?" You asked after a moment's pause, listening intently to Steve asking FRIDAY to pull up Bucky's location history. 

"Hmm, it says here that he's been sitting in the bar across the street for the last hour…" he mused, sounding just as baffled as you felt. 

"You're seriously telling me I've been going crazy with worry and he's been sitting in a bar this whole time!? I'm actually going to kill him," you grumbled, grabbing your jacket from off your bed and slipping on your shoes.

"Try not to be too hard on him, Y/N…Bucky doesn't do things without reason," Steve offered, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself. 

"I can't promise anything, but I'll try. Thanks for your help, Steve." 

"No problem, just don't leave it so long before you get in touch next time, alright? And be careful."  

"I'm always careful, I'll let you know if we run into any trouble," you said your goodbyes and hung up, immediately removing the SIM card from the back of the phone and stomping on the device. There was no such thing as being too cautious when it came to undercover work. 

Satisfied with covering your tracks, you left your room and made your way across the street in search of Bucky. 

–

The bar was surprisingly quiet for a Friday night and it didn't take long to locate the super soldier sitting in a booth at the back. He was alone, which was a good sign, but one look at his brooding expression told you that all was not well. As you slid into the booth beside him the smell of whiskey filled your nose - Bucky drinking hard liquor was never a good sign. 

"A little early for the heavy stuff, don't you think?" You remarked, to which he simply shrugged and took a long, meaningful sip. He winced as he lowered his arm and you noticed he was favouring his left side. 

"You're hurt," you observed, leaning to get a better look and gasping at the dark patch on his shirt that he'd tried, and failed, to hide beneath his leather jacket. "You're hurt and you're bleeding! What the hell!?" 

Bucky shooed your hands away as you attempted to get a better look at his wound. "It's fine, I'm fine. It'll heal soon enough." 

"At least let me have a look, it might get infected!" You implored, to no avail. 

"Y/N, it'll be alright," he insisted, much firmer this time. You met his gaze and studied him for a moment. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that you rarely got to see, causing your worry to multiply tenfold. 

"What happened Buck?" You asked softly, placing a hand over his. 

"It doesn't matter," 

"Well it does to me…I've been going out of my mind with worry and all the while you've been here, covered in blood and drinking the one drink you turn to when things take a turn for the worse…you can't tell me it doesn't matter when clearly something has happened, so I need you to tell me." 

Bucky remained silent as he considered your words. There was no way you'd be letting this go anytime soon, so with a sigh of defeat he began to explain. 

"They took me to our target's safehouse and a load of his goons were sitting around a table playing poker…they were speaking russian but I guess they didn't realise I'm fluent because they weren't very careful about what they were saying…" 

He grimaced at the memory and you squeezed his hand for reassurance. 

"What were they saying, Buck? Was it valuable information?" 

He shook his head. 

"Then what?" 

Bucky took another swig of whiskey and studied his glass for a moment. It was clear from his set jaw and tense shoulders that he was uncomfortable with the subject matter, but you needed to know the truth. 

"They were talking about you…" 

"Why the hell were they talking about me?" 

"I'd really rather not repeat what was said," he admitted, fixing you with a pleading look. You pulled your hand away and straightened up. 

"Bucky Barnes, if they were talking about me then I have a right to know what was being said!" 

You hated how stern you sounded but you were growing frustrated in your impatience. With another grimace, he finally confessed.  

"They started arguing over a girl - going on about who would get 'first go' and who'd make her scream the loudest…" he paused, his jaw setting in a hard line. You were sure you could hear the glass cracking under the vice-like grip of his vibranium hand, and you placed your hand on his flesh arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

"I just assumed they were making vulgar jokes about their girlfriends at first…but then one of them said your name and I snapped…" 

You winced as the glass shattered in his hand, but he didn't even flinch. "They were planning on assaulting you, Y/N, as soon as I left with their boss they were gonna come here and-" 

"Shhh," you quickly soothed, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear and affectionately stroking his cheek. It was a forward gesture, but you'd been friends for long enough to know it was one that he was comfortable with. He leaned into your touch and sighed. 

"I messed up, Y/N, I've compromised the whole mission," 

"It's okay, Buck…"

"I should have just ignored them and sent you a message to get somewhere safe, but I couldn't help myself…" 

"Bucky…" 

"I should have controlled my temper - it's not the worst I've heard on a mission - but as soon as they said your name, I...I just lost it…" 

"James," the sound of his first name finally got his attention and he turned to fully face you.  

"I could never live with myself if anything happened to you on my watch, doll," he admitted, taking your hand from his cheek and holding it in both of his. "And I know I've fucked it all up, but I couldn't take that risk."

"It's okay, we'll figure something else out," you reassured with another squeeze of his hand. 

Truth be told, messing up the mission wasn't an easy pill to swallow, but when you considered what could have happened, it made the loss a little easier to accept.

"We'd better get out of here before he sends people after us," you stated, shuffling along the seat to exit the booth. You waited for Bucky to follow suit and linked your arm in his as he stood. 

"Thankyou for having my back, Buck, I appreciate it," you said, reaching up on your tiptoes and planting a tender kiss on his cheek. 

The red flush of his cheeks didn't go unnoticed. He threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head as you left the bar.  

"I'll always have your back, doll," he promised with a smile. "'til the end of the line." 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #protective bucky barnes #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #captain america #steve rogers #tfatws #sebastian stan #avengers

[aswaki]

big mts [smt x reader]

seok matthew x reader | 1.5k word count | crack

“hanbin sets you up with his friend, ‘big mts’”

contains: short!reader, no gendered terms for reader, suggestive tone (at the end), cursing, blind date theme, family friend!hanbin, mention of choking, brief appearance of jiwoong

“sung hanbin, i am not going out with a guy called ‘big mts’,”

you gave the raven haired man in front of you a deadpan look. his phone was in your hand, a text notification displayed on the screen. it said, “i’m almost there!” and the sender’s name was indeed ‘big mts’.

okay— sung hanbin was a thoughtful person. you had never doubted that. not when he listened to your rants about how stagnant your life was on top of every other bullshit you’ve thrown his way. he made it his mission to be your guardian angel even when you didn’t ask him too. just like how he sent you to a string of blind dates.

it began when you were talking about how there was nothing exciting happening to you for the nth time. you had been so passionate in your rant; your face was flushed. your hands were moving as you talked. hanbin had been moved but jiwoong, who sitting beside him, was the opposite. he simply looked so done.

“you know what you need? you need to get fucked.” jiwoong had declared as he leaned forward. he put his hand on top of yours. a faux serious expression was painted on his features. you stopped ranting, obviously shocked at his words.

“hey!” hanbin slapped jiwoong’s arm. they did a slight stare off while you simply giggled at their antics.

“but you know… he’s not wrong. maybe you need to meet more people! not the fucking. do not listen to jiwoong. you don’t need to be fucking everyone.” his brotherly instincts coming out. his voice was almost far away. hanbin looked at you, deep in thought. you could almost see the gears working in his brain.

that was one random day a few months ago and then the rest was history. it led you to a series of hang outs and dates. you didn’t know hanbin knew that many people. most of these meet ups didn’t end well. you wondered if hanbin just had an ad of you on craigslist (especially with a date with that one person who you were sure you saw getting dogpiled on twitter before).

so it led you to today. earlier, you were over at hanbin’s apartment unit which was a few doors down from yours. you went there under the pretense of hanging out with him. when he opened the door at you, he merely declared, “you look terrible. go change.”

he pushed you out and led you back to your unit. you look down at your sweats. is it not acceptable to be in comfortable clothes on chill days? you opened your mouth to protest but he beat you to it, “you are going on a date!”

“not again!” you screamed.

you removed yourself from his hold and ran to your door. you were not going to lose a couple precious hours of your friday to go with a possible insufferable person you just met.

you felt victorious escaping hanbin. you sighed in relief as you put the key in your doorknob. the door opened with ease but before you could close it on hanbin, he caught up with you. he easily slid right in. oh, curse his long legs. you could only glare at him. the universe was unfair for giving him tall genes but skipped it on you.

hanbin called you by your full name and said, “you are going to change and go on this date. don’t you disappoint me.”

“do i have too? you know what happened the previous times. just give up.” you whined at him. seriously, you were convinced he was bored too, that's why he was trying to play cupid.

“go. change.” he told you as he placed his hand on your shoulders and directed you to your room. the both of you were really close, almost like siblings. you tried to be childish and put all your weight on your feet to stop you from moving. your attempts only failed.

“i swear, this time is different! he’s my friend. he’s really nice and adorable. you’d love him. he just came back from canada. that should be interesting enough for you. go talk about maple syrup or something.” you turned around and gave him a blank stare. 

“okay, maybe not maple syrup,” he backtracked, “but please, please. i showed my friend your photo already. he thought you were cute! if this doesn’t work out, i’ll lay off but he’s already on his way so you need to change!”

your eyes widened. this person thought you were cute? and already on his way? jesus, hanbin knew how to get you working. this person could be a freak but he did say you were cute. you knew hanbin could also be pulling things out his ass but hey, flattery works.

“fine. this is the last one.” you gave in. hanbin nodded excitedly. you went to your room to quickly change your outfit and prepare yourself. you wanted to exceed expectations. this was hanbin’s mysterious friend. you can’t afford to look stupid. plus, given the previous statistics, this could mean this would be your last blind date for a while. you weren’t hoping this would be it. you just wanted to get this over with. you didn’t think it was bad wanting to look good to celebrate the end of hanbin’s crazy project. an end of an era.

you looked at the mirror satisfied with your look. when you stepped out of your bedroom, hanbin wasn’t in your living room. his phone, however, was. it lit up signaling a message came in. you picked it up, scoffing at what you saw. he texted he was close by already but what got to you was the bold letters, ‘big mts’ that flashed on the screen above his message. you thought it sounded obnoxious. you didn’t want to be with someone obnoxious, even for a brief moment.

hanbin came out of the bathroom. before he could express approval at your outfit, you marched over at him and shoved his phone to his face. “wha-”

“sung hanbin, i am not going out with a guy called ‘big mts’. i draw the line here.”

he merely laughed at your words and at the look you sent his way. he knew you were going to give him another one of your rants.

you wiggled the phone in front of his face then you sucked in a deep breath before yapping, “he sounds repulsive. how could you be friends with him? what kind of nickname is that? who calls himself that? do you really want to send poor little me with a person who seems to be as ridiculous and egotistical as ‘big mts’? nevermind that he called me cute. are you even listening? stop laughing. i will call your mom.”

like a spirit drawn to the pleas of mortals, the doorbell rang interrupting your spiel. you sighed in defeat knowing ‘big mts’ is here. hanbin turned to walk over to your front door. you followed close behind him.

“seriously, hanbin, can’t we just ignore him? what kind of name is ‘big mts’?” you huffed as the doorbell rang again.

“you’ll see,” he cryptically replied. hanbin opened the door. he greeted his friend enthusiastically— “matthew!” —they hugged each other. when they pulled away from the hug, hanbin revealed someone who was not as repulsive as you thought.

you wish you could eat your words.

standing right there by your door was a man. he had a well bulked up build. a silver chain adorned his neck. his biceps were exposed by his sleeveless top. his chest stretching his shirt out. thoughts were racing in your head and none of them were pg rated. it wasn't your fault he had a very big... heart. you could only hope you didn’t look pathetic right now checking him out. you understood why he was ‘big mts’. you could see it with your own eyes. you wondered what else is big...

hanbin stifled a chuckle as he nudged you. well, shit, you probably did look pathetic right now.

“hi i’m matthew.” he said, looking at you with an amused smile. his adorable smile was a stark contrast to his body. holy fuck, you felt so shallow right now.

you looked down as he extended his hand at you. even his hands looked good. it would've looked even better if it was around your neck. (but what would be best if it was his biceps choking you.)

ah, you were about to cry. you were the freak, not him.

you grabbed his hand and shook it with no hesitation. you enjoyed his warm smooth skin. “you ready to go?” he asked after you shook hands.

“yes! i am! let’s go!” you replied with much eagerness that surprised all three of you. matthew nodded a goodbye to hanbin.

“jiwoong’s right,” you muttered to hanbin as you gave him a hug of thanks and farewell. hallelujah to the caring, determined (and nosy) sung hanbin for introducing you to his friend.

you gave a matthew a brief look, eyes moving over his handsome face and mouthwatering form, before whispering again to hanbin, “oh, i’m so going to fuck him.”

a/n: tgif! here's a silly little fic as dialogue practice because i truly feel my forte isn't with dialogues. i was actually writing another fic during my break earlier but then i decided to do this. when i remembered hanbin has matthew saved as big mts on his phone, it went downhill from that. i also didn't plan on posting this because i only wanted to put all my smut brainrot in this blog but then eh. sorry for my attempts at humour btw??? might do a part two if anyone wants???? smut???

divider credit: saradika-graphics

#zb1 #zb1 crack #zb1 fluff #zb1 smut #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 x you #zerobaseone x you #zerobaseone fics #zb1 fics #zb1 hard hours #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone scenarios #zb1 scenarios #zerobaseone crack #zerobaseone fluff #zb1 matthew imagines #zb1 seok matthew imagines #seok matthew imagines #seok matthew x reader #seok matthew x you #matthew x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #kpop hard hours #kpop crack #kpop fluff #aswaki writes

[criminalmindswhore]

Pulling Women

Morgan claims you can't pull so you flirt with Emily...

tw: flirting, sexual tension, mentions smut, praise, brat talk

The bullpen erupted into laughter as Reid failed at saying his pick up line, "Reid just admit it, you have zero game." Morgan said as he sipped his coffee. Reid looked offended, "Look I don't need pickup lines because my smarts do the work for me." Reid shot back from his desk. You looked between the two of them and Morgan took notice. "Y/n, I feel like you are the same as Reid." You faked offense and put your hand over your heart, "I am deeply offended that you think I can't pull women." Just as you finished Emily walked back into the bullpen and went to the kitchen to grab coffee. Morgan pointed at her, "Then pull Prentiss." To Morgan, Emily seemed like the kind of woman no one could flirt with. What Morgan didn't know is that Emily had a big fat lesbian crush on you. Emily wanted you in her bed, under her control, and you knew it, "Oh, I can pull Prentiss."

Emily watched the steam rise from her mug and took a deep breath. She just got done taking a statement from an unsub who really got under her skin. It was music to her ears when your voice hit her ears, "Hey Em." You slid up behind her, your hand barely grazing her lower back, sending a chill down her spine. You leaned on the counter next to her, your eyes grazed over her taking in every single detail. How her belt hugged her waist, the way her fingers grasped her mug, how her bangs sat on her forehead. Emily watched you check her out, she saw your pupils dilate and knew immediately the game you were playing. "You look amazing today Emily," the compliment floated off your tongue in the most seductive way you could muster. Emily set her mug down and took a step closer to you. Close enough for you to notice, but not enough to be considered unprofessional in the workplace. Morgan watched from afar, a teasing smile on his face.

"I could say the same about you, pretty girl." The way it sounded coming from Emily almost made your knees buckle, but you were here on a mission. "Do you want to grab drinks on Friday after work? There's a new bar on my street I've been wanting to try." Prentiss was almost shocked by your offer until she remembered the way you blushed when she caught you during a chase last week. Emily grabbed your arm, her fingers lightly dancing as she ran her hand down it, "I would love to," She quirked an eyebrow, "but it seems you're interested in more than just drinks Y/n." You swallowed the lump in your throat and stood up straight, "I guess that's for Friday Emily to find out huh?" You licked your bottom lip, looked at Emily's lips, made eye contact, and said, "Unless you wanna find out sooner, or can you not put your money where your mouth is?" Emily could hear the brat in your voice and it sent a shock straight to her core.

Reid breathed out, "I can't tell if she's failing or if Emily is a little too into this." Morgan looked at him, "Oh she's failing for sure. Prentiss is untouchable." He sounded so confident that Reid even believed him and averted his attention back to the duo at the coffee machine.

Emily turned so her back was to Morgan and Reid, blocking their view of your face. She leaned in close, closer than she should be at work, "I can already tell I have my work cut out for me with you, maybe you need to learn now who's in charge." Your cheeks turned bright red and you clutched the counter with one hand, desperately trying to pull your brain from the fog. "Maybe I do." That's the best you could get out of your mouth with Emily peering at you through her thick eyelashes and her voice lowering an octave. "Good girl." You gasped and it went directly to Emily's head. A devilish smile graced Emily's face, "My apartment, tonight, 7pm. Do not be late."

With that, Emily grabbed her mug and headed to Garcia's office to get some information from her. You took a moment to compose yourself before returning to Morgan, who still thought you failed. "So how did it go?" Reid looked at you expecting you to say you failed. "We have plans." Morgan's mouth fell open, "With Prentiss?" Reid smiled, no matter the circumstances, he loved seeing Morgan be wrong. Happy that Morgan failed, Reid returned to his desk. You shrugged your shoulders, "I'm hot, confident, and good with words, why are you shocked?" Morgan set down his mug, "Are you saying I can't pull Prentiss because I'm not hot?" You sat at your desk beside his, "Precisely." Emily approached from behind, "Morgan just admit it, Y/n is hotter than you."

#criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminalmindsxreader #spencer reid #derek morgan

[natsglorifiedsimp]

Occupied

a bit of angst today cause why not?😝 oh gosh why is my writing so bad now lol i think this would be a last one lollll

This was a request of @aosquakewidow23

Taglist: @diaryoflife @xxromanoffxx @lissaaaa145 @fxckmiup @mmmmokdok @sayah13 @karmasgxrl @meurgen @simp-erformarvelwomen @lilaswidowspark @snowdrop1026 @beholdagaywriter

(I'm not the owner of this fanart. Ctto)

"I need someone to talk to," you said sheepishly to both of your girlfriends. You tried your best to still maintain a smile even though you wanted to cry your heart out.

They know you are shy and not the best at communicating. They know how much courage it took you to say that you're hurting inside. But this time they ignored it.

"Y/n, I'm sorry but not right now. We still have finishing up to do." Natasha said.

A plea for help turned into an embarrassment. "What were you thinking?" you scold yourself.

You slowly backed away from them to give them much-needed space. "I'm sorry" you frowned. "I can come back later when you aren't busy." you tried to show a smile but your lips failed you.

"Yeah, yeah" Wanda flicked her hand ushering you out.

You wept in the hallway trying desperately to keep it together. "Maybe they're just busy and this is nothing, I can get over it myself" you convinced yourself.

---

Hoping they would listen to you, they didn't. It has been a week since they last told you to get off their faces. But it was one of those days again. You've been bottling up everything but you're already so exhausted.

"Nat? Wands?" you sounded so small, your eyes filled with tears you can't hold back anymore. "I could really use a hug right now."

Roaming your eyes in the room you noticed an unpacked suit of case. "What?"

You hurriedly looked at your closet, "Some of the clothes are gone" you thought.

Just in time Natasha and Wanda both came out of the bathroom. "Are you guys gonna leave?" you brittle.

"Oh yeah, new mission," Natasha said casually like it's nothing. Your eyes burned as you tried to keep your tears at bay. "But we haven't h-hang out yet." you stuttered.

"It's fine, we can do that when we get back" Wanda was occupied with her necessities. She didn't even spare a glance at you.

"Uhm, okay." you frowned in disappointment.

---

During the nights, you were up. Trying to keep your feelings in a jar keeping them away from people who are trying to help. You felt like a responsibility attached to your girlfriend's tail.

Someone who is trying to belong to a circle where she didn't fit in. You kept your distance to the team making sure you talked enough but not too much. Talked about them but little about you.

A daily stroll became your daily routine. During the day or night, you'd make sure you had your peace. But today, it wasn't the usual calm day. A guy dressed in a skimpy outfit is trying to snatch the poor young woman's purse.

Combat was something you never learned. Even from your girlfriends. But seeing the situation you didn't even think twice.

You grabbed the man's arm and kicked his crotch. He winced in agony keeping his balls together. You grinned braggingly and brought back the purse to the lady.

In utter anger, the man kicked your back with full force causing you to bumped the floor. 'That hurt' you thought.

He didn't stop there he made sure to give you blows by blow. You didn't fight though, you didn't care. At one point you even wished this would cause your death.

---

Getting home bruised and broken worried the team. Each one trying to talk to you, to give you immediate care. But with a simple "I'm fine" they stopped.

You walked past them like nothing happened. As if you didn't look like a mess. Natasha and Wanda were still weren't there though. As always.

---

The two redheads got back home exhausted. Shoulders slumped, eyes heavy with almost a week of deprived sleep.

FRIDAY notified you of their arrival but ashamed of what they're gonna say you kept it a secret. You hid in your room and sobbed until sleep took over.

You tried to keep yourself anonymous. Going into a room where the redheads are wasn't much hard. You were invisible to them.

This went on for days and you assumed that it was over. They no longer love you. They no longer care for you. You were once again alone in a room full of people you know but never belong to.

The bruises were still there. If anything they were more purple and visible. The ache in your back worsens but you didn't care.

Wanda gasped, "What happened y/n?!"

Suddenly you were visible again everyone was looking at you. "I'm fine" you lied.

"If you're fine you sure as hell won't have bruises littered all over you" she scolded worryingly.

She tried to grab your hand but you moved away from her. "It's fine, Wanda. It's not like you guys would care." your lips trembled.

"How can we take care of you if you wouldn't tell us what's wrong?" Natasha said.

Your eyes snapped at her, "I did try, Natasha. But you're too busy enough to even care!" the hood that you've been hiding on for weeks fell from your head. Now they could see every bruise you took from that snatcher.

"Oh y/n," Wanda said. "Come on let's get you fixed up" she ushered.

"No. I'm fine." you snapped. "Go back to your perfect little bubble."

"Honey, our bubble isn't perfect if you're not in it." Natasha cooed.

"Then the perfect little bubble ended weeks ago."

You only matter when you're sick and bruised. But once everyone finds how irrelevant you are. They'll pick a new person that is more capable than you. Remember: you're not a lot of people's favorite person

#natasha marvel #wanda maximoff #natasha romonova #black widow #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha alianovna romanova #mommy wanda #wanda marvel #wanda maximov #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x you #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x reader

[teapartyprincess4two]

heyyy idk if you've been on tiktok but currently in like the editing fandom everyone's been editing the triplets to the song 18 by Anarbor so I was just wondering if you could maybe write for Matt because I think it just fits so well but surprisingly I don't think I've ever seen anyone write for the triplets based on that song and I think you would slayyyy it. I know you've got a couple requests and others you're working on rn so no pressure, even if you don't end up doing this request I'd eat up anything you put out 💋💋

I’ll Play Your Game- M. Sturniolo

pairing: GoodGirl!reader x BadBoy!Matt

classification: angst, fluff

warnings: use of y/n, suggestive content but no smut, mention of parental issues, controlling parents, mentions smoking, rebellious reader, mention of religion & religious trauma, mention of church, reference to the Bible (brief), cliche high school stereotypes/ tropes, long

inspiration: request^^, 18 by Anarbor

summary: You’re the Pastor’s daughter, all eyes are always on you. So, why not put on a show?

—

Ever since you were a little girl everyone expected three things from you; be sweet, pray, and obey. There were 10 commandments, all of them listed plain and simple in the Bible, and you were expected to follow them all. Your dad was strict, he had high expectations of you from the day you were born and upheld them throughout your infancy and childhood. Your mom was a pushover, she’d let your father brain wash her long ago into believing that his way was the only ways.

Your dad kept your weekly itinerary filled to the brim with activities to ensure that you had zero time to misbehave. Everyday after school, without fail, there was at least one activity waiting for you. Monday’s were for Bible study, on Tuesday you had golf practice, the afternoon prayer circle was on Wednesday, piano practice on Thursday, on Friday’s you’d volunteer at a food bank, Saturday’s were for homework and chores, and Sunday was the Lord’s day. Sunday’s were always dedicated to church, if you even thought of doing anything else you’d never hear the end of it from your dad.

That’s why, at the ripe age of 18, you’ve decided enough is enough. You’ve made it your sole mission to rebel against your dad and his ideologies, you’d remove the ‘good girl’ label from your life once and for all. But, if you were being honest, you’d followed the rules for so long that you didn’t even know where to begin.

The only good thing your parents did was send you to a public school, deeming Christian school too expensive despite it aligning more with their views. You’ve made a few friends, most of them also conformists, but no one who’d help you properly rebel against your parents. So, if you wanted to do this right, you needed to find someone new with a bad reputation; Matthew Sturniolo.

Matt was the textbook definition of a bad boy, and if there was a guide he’d definitely check off all the boxes. He had the angsty, quiet demeanor with a touch of humor. His body adorned with a multitude of tattoos, each one representing something different from his life. His hair was long enough to be considered too long by conservative parents, framing his face just around his scruffy beard perfectly. The outfits he wore, matched his mysterious persona perfectly, allowing him to disappear into the shadows seamlessly.

If anyone was going to help you piss off your parents, it was definitely going to be Matt. But you had to start off slowly, this wasn’t a one and done type of plan, it was more intricate than that and you were playing the long game. If you wanted to get to Matt, you needed to get to get to one of his triplet brothers first.

You had two options; Chris or Nick.

Chris was your stereotypical jock. He was the captain of the school’s varsity hockey team, occupying most of his Friday nights with hockey games and following them with a Saturday night full of partying. His weekdays were obviously spent at school, but he did the bare minimum to keep his grades up, he focused most of his attention on flirting with girls. Chris was loud, outgoing, flirtatious, and way too popular for his own good. If you tried getting to Matt through him, he’d surely think you were flirting.

So, if you wanted this to work, you needed someone equally as popular, but not as cocky.

That left you with Nick. Nick was on a completely different side of the popularity spectrum than Chris; he was your stereotypical cheerleader. He, much like Chris, spent his Friday’s at hockey games except he was leading his team in cheers and chants instead. The rest of his time was spent organizing the important school events such as prom and homecoming, and when he wasn’t doing that he was boosting student morale through heartfelt speeches at school assemblies.

Nick was the perfect contender and since cheer tryout were opening up soon, it was the perfect excuse to get to know him. First, you’d earn your spot on the cheerleading team. Then, you’d slowly enter Nick’s inner circle, using it as leverage to finally get to Matt.

It was the perfect plan. What could go wrong?

—

One of your dad’s frequented sermons plays over the car stereo as he drives you to school, he’s adamant on silence in the car so you can fully absorb the message behind the sermon. It doesn’t bother you anymore, you usually just tune it out and scroll through your phone, especially on weekday mornings on the way to school.

Before you fell asleep last night you decided that today was the day, cheer tryouts were after school and you were going to saunter in there, perform your best routine, and complete the first step of your plan.

“Listen, Y/n. This is important,” your dad snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking your gaze from your phone. He turns the sound up, the words of the sermon taking over the car, “Children, obey your parents. Do as you are told and you will be blessed.”

You rolls your eyes, it was always the same thing with you dad. “See, be obedient. God will only bless you if you’re obedient,” he says. The man on the stereo continues, “Parents, do not anger your chil-“ Before the man can finish his sentence, your dad turns the sound off. If he had to follow any rules that gave you any sort of power, he didn’t want to hear them. You side eye him, glad that he’s too focused on the road to notice.

Most kids hate school, they claim it’s a waste of time or that they hate doing all the work, but not you. You’ll gladly welcome the extra hours of homework, volunteer opportunities after school, and early tutoring sessions just for an excuse to get as far away from your controlling family as possible.

Your dad pulls up to the school parking lot, immediately commenting on something he found distasteful before bidding you goodbye. “Be the light, Y/n!” he exclaims as you hop off the car, shutting the car door without turning back to him. A wave of relief washes over you when he pulls out of the parking lot, you felt so tense the entire car ride. But now that you were finally at school, it was time to put your plan into full effect.

You were getting rid of the ‘good girl’ title no matter what.

—

When the last school bell rings you’re practically flying down the stairs to the gym. You wanted to get to the girl’s locker room as quick as possible so you could be the first in line for cheer tryouts. Nothing said ‘co-captain’ like punctuality. Or, actually, would it be better to make a fashionably late entrance? You shake the thought off, you’re just going to be on time. You’re sure Nick would appreciate it.

The tryout requires that you wear a pleated skirt along with a school shirt so that the judges know what you look like in school colors and that you know how to perform in a cheer uniform. As a classified church girl, you had a wide variety of skirts to choose from, but you made sure to pick your newest one just for the occasion. You changed quickly in the locker room, tying a bow into your hair before anyone else arrived.

When the second person entered the locker room, you were already walking out, mentally going through your routine in your head. If you wanted a spot in Nick’s inner circle, you needed to execute this routine perfectly. You choreographed it yourself after watching endless hours of cheer routine videos, making sure to incorporate as many dazzling moves as possible.

The gym is quiet, the only sound being Nick and two teachers setting up the judges table. They’re surprised to see you already dressed and ready to perform, no one had ever been this early before. They’re even more shocked that you’re here, everyone knows you’re the Pastor’s daughter and the cheer team was known for everything but modesty.

“Are you here for tryouts?” Nick asks, a big smile on his faces. He’s excited for the new year and to find a new co-captain amidst the crowd of talented dancers and performers.

“Yes, my name is y/n,” you reply, watching as he finds your name on one of his many clipboards. Suddenly, now that you’re standing in the gym, you don’t feel so confident anymore. The nerves are starting to settle and you’re becoming anxious at the thought of forgetting your routine, messing up and embarrassing yourself, or just not being good enough to make the team let alone become co-captain.

One of the teachers heaves a large stereo onto the desk, connecting it her phone and cueing up your song before asking, “Alright, Y/n. You ready?” Shaky, sweaty hands smooth down your pleated skirt, a long exhale following right after. It was now or never, if you wanted to get back at your dad for all the years of religious trauma it was going to start now.

“I’m ready.”

The teacher smiles at you, all the judges taking a seat behind the table as she presses play on the song. A funky pop beat plays over the stereo, and immediately your routine is in full swing. One of the male judges is humming along to the music, all their eyes trained on you as you dance along the gym floor. The song wasn’t necessarily inappropriate, but you managed to pull out as many sultry moves as possible.

Nick is instantly impressed by your routine, taking down a few notes on how graceful and elegant you move. The teachers, who are mostly there out of obligation, refer to their rubric before giving you a final score. If Nick could have it his way, he’d make you co-captain then and there, but there’s plenty of other girls still waiting to tryout.

You finish your routine in a split, slightly out of breath but trying to keep your composure. The music stops, but the noise is replaced with the judges clapping for your performance, “Great work! The team list will be posted end of day tomorrow. NEXT!”

Just like that you’re being rushed out of the gym for the next girl as Nick sends you an enthusiastic thumbs up. All you could do was hope you earned a spot on the team, and by the way Nick looked at you, you were almost 100% you’d be this years cheer co-captain.

You’re daydreaming about making the team, feeling confident that your plan is working and you’re not paying attention to where you’re waking. So, on the way back to the locker room you accidentally bump into someone, their hard chest causing you to stumble back slightly.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, looking up at who just bumped into.

“No problem,” a deep voice croaks in return, you’d recognize that voice anywhere. You look up to see none other than Matt, fully clad in his signature all black style. His hair falls in front of his face, hiding just enough of his eyes to give him an even more mysterious aura. He smells of cigarettes and cologne, a delicious scent that has you weak in the knees.

Without another word, just a sly smirk, Matt is walking past you and into the gym. He saunters up the bleachers, managing to find a perfectly secluded corner to hide in. Not long after, he’s joined by Chris who just finished hockey practice. Chris doesn’t bother hiding, instead he sits right next to Matt where the gym lights are still illuminating. They’re both waiting for Nick so they can head home, and although they’re tired from the school day, they’ll gladly stay a couple extra hours to watch all the pretty girls do their tryout routines.

Matt can feel you watching him, allowing the darkness to serve as a veil as he looks you up and down. He’s noticed you in the halls before, but never took you for a cheerleader. You can’t even see Matt anymore, but you have to force yourself to look away, quickly continuing your walk back to the locker room.

The next day after school you’re once again rushing down the stairs, trying to get to the bulletin before anyone else. You push past a few people, weaving your way through the crowded hallway. This is the defining moment, if you made the team you’d be one step closer to achieving your final goal: get Matthew Sturniolo.

You must’ve been lost in thought because you once again manage to bump into someone. You stumble back, some of your textbooks falling out of your arms and onto the floor in the process.

“You need to watch where you’re going, sweetheart,” Matt says, reaching his arms out to steady you before you can fall over. The nickname turned your legs to jelly.

How was it that you always managed to bump into him? It almost seemed like fate.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” you reply sincerely, kneeling down to pick up your books from the floor. He does the same, picking up one of your stray books, fingertips grazing your hand when he hands it to you. Your eyes can’t help but travel up his arm, mentally counting and admiring the different tattoos that litter his arms. He notices, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Y/n, right?” You hold your textbooks in a firm, anxious grip as you stand up. Matt is still kneeling, your knees aligned with his face. He lets his eyes trail up your legs and up to your face, a devilish grin on his face. The position felt so compromising, but you had to try an act casual.

“Yeah, you’re Matt. Right?” He hums in response, tracing your entire silhouette one last time before he finally stands up. His height causes him to tower over you, a whiff of his cologne once again hitting you, immediately putting you in a deep trance. Matt is handsome and he knows it, he notices how hypnotized you looked and it only serves as an ego boost.

“See you around, Y/n,” he smirks, sending you a quick wink as he walks outside. “See you around,” you reply meekly, mentally facepalming for letting the anxiety take you over.

You felt like a little mouse who finally gained the courage to scavenge for food only to be chased around by a ravenous cat. The only sounds coming from you being squeaks and chirps, too anxious to form coherent words. This was going to be harder than you thought.

When you finally reached the bulletin, your eyes scanned over the new team roster. Your name was all the way at the bottom in bold, capitalized letters, ‘Y/N: CO-CAPTAIN.’ At least you did that part right.

—

It’s been 2 months since your cheer audition and since then you’ve risen in popularity dramatically. As co-captain you were invited to join Nick at his table for lunch and worked closely alongside him to choreograph new routines. This led you two to become close, your friendship blossoming over the countless hours of cheer practice.

Your dad hated that you were a cheerleader, finding issues in everything about it. He deemed the uniform too provocative, the cheers too sexual, and claiming that you were spending too much time practicing and not enough time studying your Bible. The only reason he didn’t force you to quit was because your mom finally grew a backbone and stuck up for you, advocating that this was a good hobby for you. Cheerleading was the perfect scapegoat, even on the odd days when you didn’t have practice you were able to sneak out of all your other responsibilities. No more piano, golf practice, volunteering at the food bank, or Bible study for you.

Eventually, the hockey season ended so you and Nick modified the chants to fit the lacrosse field. Chris was known to play every sport possible, so you weren’t surprised to see ‘STURNIOLO’ written across one of the jerseys running on the field. But upon further examination, you realized you were seeing double. Matt, who usually watched from the sidelines, was running plays alongside his brother and absolutely dominating the field.

It was hard for you to focus on your routine, your eyes kept following his sweaty figure as it raced across the field. Nick, who notices your sudden offbeat performance, was sending you warning looks to get it together. But you couldn’t help it, Matt had an alluring aura to him that seemed to draw you in without fail each time.

The school band plays loudly over the course of the game, making it hard to hear anything other than the loud drums and trumpets. During a small break, Nick nudges you, mouthing a quick “what the fuck?” You give him an apologetic smile, adjusting your uniform slightly before mouthing back an “I’m sorry.” He gives you a look that says, ‘yeah, you better be’ before getting back in position, ready to cheer the rest of the night away. You do the same, forcing yourself not to look at Matt for the rest of the game.

Before you know it, the game is over and the stadium was filled with hooting and hollering as Matt scored the winning goal. The school and his entire tram cheered for him in unison. You and Nick guided the bleacher full of students in a big chant, cheering for the lacrosse team loudly for their victory, “Yeah, yeah, do we rock? Yeah, yeah, take it to the top! Yeah, yeah, we are never gonna stop! Get wins till the other team drops!” Pompoms are in the air, rhythmically swaying to the beat, your feet twisting and turning as you pop your hips.

These type of events were always full of school spirit, but when they ended and the team headed towards the lockers and the cheerleaders went in search of their boyfriends, the air quickly became chaotic. Especially with everyone else piling off the bleachers and into the parking lot, trying to get home before it got too dark. You stay back and chat with Nick for a while before he dismisses himself to find one of his brothers.

So, now you’re left to wander the field on your own, taking a seat on the grass under the bright stadium lights. You loved moments like this, moments when you got to be alone with your thoughts. All you could think about was Matt, and for a second you thought he might be here on the field with you, the smell of his cologne and cigarette smoke whipping past you with the breeze. You look around, thinking your mind was playing tricks on you.

But it’s not, you see the light at the end of his cigarette deep within the shadows, followed by cigarette smoke that forms a cloud once it dances into the light. For some reason you feel bold, or maybe it’s just the same alluring feeling from earlier that makes you stand up and walk over to him. You can’t see him, but the lit cigarette between his fingers serves as a place marker for his location, the embers crackling brightly in the dark.

Matt’s eyes train on your figure as it approaches, squinting slightly in confusion. He’s never taken you for a smoker, but then again he didn’t take you for a cheerleader and you were clearly the best dancer on the team.

The whole night he couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you, even earning a tongue lashing from his coach for missing a few passes. Towards the end he had to force himself to focus, scoring the winning point in hopes of impressing you.

It obviously worked because once your eyes adjust to the darkness you’re commenting on it, “Good job on the field today, that last play was awesome.” There’s a twinge of innocence in your voice that Matt wants to destroy. “Thanks, you weren’t too bad yourself,” he replies, taking a long inhale of his cigarette before blowing the smoke away from you. The wind only blows it back into your face anyways, causing you to cough slightly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, ready to flick the cigarette on the floor and stomp it out. But you stop him, a gentle hand holding his arm, “no it’s okay, I’ll get used to it.” The comment is bold, but you needed to be bold if you wanted to get Matt.

Was this the same girl that everyone knew as the Pastor’s daughter? Where was all this sudden confidence coming from?

“Oh, will you?” he asks with a quirked eyebrow, dusting the ash off his cigarette before taking another hit. You hum in response, slowly moving closer to him, allowing him to blow the smoke close enough to your face for it to sting. You hold in a cough, offering Matt an innocent smile that he returns with a smirk.

If this was the game you were starting, he was ready to play.

—

From that moment forward, Matt has been obsessed with you. He gave himself a day to decide whether he wanted to pursue you or not, but after hearing his lacrosse buddies talking about you one time after practice, he decided no one else could have you. The comments they were making were typical, the same things they said about every girl they found attractive, but because it was about you it irked him.

So, two days after your fateful encounter on the lacrosse field, Matt was waiting for you to finish cheer practice from outside the gym, fully clad in his lacrosse uniform, sweaty and dirty from practicing just moments before. Chris was standing nearby, chatting up another cheerleader who snuck out of the gym to be with him. Nick always reprimanded Chris for this, especially because it directly affected her performance and it showed on the field when she was struggling to keep up.

Matt debated on whether or not he should do the same, call you out from practice to tell you everything that was on his mind, but he loved watching you perfectly execute your routines during games. He wanted his girl to be the best, outperforming everyone else seamlessly. So, instead he decided to patiently wait for you.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the music in the gym turns off and he can hear sneakers against the waxy floor as you all rush towards the locker room. For someone so dark and mysterious, Matt actually found himself getting excited.

Not long after, you and Nick walk out of the locker room. You’re laughing at something Nick said as you sling your duffel bag on your shoulder. Matt watches as you throw you head back in laughter, the bow in your hair twirling in the wind.

Nick instinctively walks towards his brothers and you follow suit, still too immersed in the conversation to notice Matt. Once you’re close enough, Nick sends the cheerleader talking to Chris a disapproving look that has her scurrying away and into the locker room.

“What was that for??” Chris exclaims, watching as the girl he was chatting up disappears. “Dude you always distract her, it shows on the field. She has the sloppiest performance out of everyone on the team,” Nick comments blatantly, readjusting his bag on his shoulder. “So? Just kick her off then!” Chris retaliates, running an exasperated hand through his hair. “Would you date her if she wasn’t on the team?” you chime in, laughing at how flustered Chris has become. He thinks about it for a while, “no, yeah probably not.”

His response elicits a laugh from you and a scoff from Nick, who begins scolding him. Matt is watching you intently, trying to gain your attention through some form of telepathy. You feel his burning gaze on you, finally looking at him through your long, thick eyelashes. “What about you? Any girls on the team won your heart yet?” you ask, a playful grin appearing on your face. After your last encounter with him, you’re hoping he doesn’t even know anyone else on the roster and just blurts out your name.

“Hmmm maybe,” he replies with a smirk, reaching in his pocket for his lighter and a cigarette. “Oh really? Mr. Tough Guy’s in love?” you tease, watching as he places a cigarette in between his lips and lights it with ease, taking a quick draw of it before pinching it away. Nick and Chris have started walking to the parking lot at this point, too immersed in their own world to notice you and Matt flirting.

“Something like that,” the smoke puffs out with each word, swirling in the air before fading away. He brings the cigarette back up onto his lips, intently waiting for you next move. What you say next is unexpected, “can I try?” You’re pointing at the cigarette innocently, causing Matt’s eyes to open in shock.

“Too strong for you, sweetheart,” he replies coyly, blowing the smoke out through the side of his mouth. “How am I supposed to get used to it then?” you’re referring to what you said the other day, hoping to jog his memory and let him know that you still want him.

Matt doesn’t skip a beat, within seconds he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “Slowly,” he answers in a whisper, taking a long drag of his cigarette before moving his face closer to yours. You’re holding onto his shoulders for support, watching intently as his face gets closer and closer to yours.

Without another word, his lips are inches from yours as he exhales the smoke into your mouth, capturing your lips in a quick kiss. His mouth melts into yours, working the smoke into your lungs with each movement. When he pulls away from the kiss, you’re immediately coughing up a storm. Your nose burns and tears brim at your eyes from the strong sensation.

“Told you it was too strong for you,” he comments with a chuckle, putting the cigarette out on the brick wall behind him before moving his other arm around your waist. Once you’re finally not coughing he speaks again, “Here, let’s try that again, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, moving your hands from his chest to his neck. He leans in for another kiss, this time savoring your sweet kiss without any smoke to inhibit his taste buds.

In that moment, Matt knew he didn’t have to say anything else, you became his girl.

—

The next few weeks were amazing, you finally got everything you wanted, all you needed to do now was flaunt all of it in front of your dad and watch how horrified he became.

“Hi baby,” Matt whispers, throwing an arm over your shoulder while you wait in the lunch line. Matt never ate lunch at school, he’d usually get in his car and hit up the nearest fast food place or walk off campus for a smoke break. He found the cafeteria to be too chaotic, there was nowhere to seclude himself and even less areas to eat a meal in peace and quiet. But, that you two are dating, he’s started dragging you along on his school day adventures. Sometimes you’ll just get lunch, other times you’ll sit and talk to him while he smokes, but most times you’ll end up making out in the backseat of his car.

“Hi handsome,” you reply in a cheery tone, tiptoeing so you can plant a quick peck on his lips. He smiles into the kiss.

“Let’s go to my car? I’ll treat you to lunch, pretty girl,” he suggests, already beginning to walk towards his car with you under his arm. You don’t complain, especially because this is the closest you’d ever get to real dates with Matt, especially when under the careful watch of your parents.

You guys end up at a local Mexican restaurant, it was a restaurant that your family frequented on Sunday’s after church so you were well acquainted with it. Once inside, you and Matt are directed to a booth in the back, perfectly secluded and away from prying eyes. He takes a seat across from you, smiling at you in a lovesick gaze.

Maybe it was too early to say it, but Matt definitely felt it; he loved you. He was apprehensive to admit it, even just to himself, because he was scared to get hurt, but so far your relationship has been nothing but sweet.

The waitress takes your order and you don’t even need to look at the menu to know what you want which catches Matt by surprise. “You bring all your boyfriends here?” he jokes, folding the menu and handing it to the waitress after placing his order. “Only the cute ones,” you joke in return, sending him a playful wink. He laughs, holding your hand in his on the table.

“This is my dad’s favorite restaurant, we come here like every Sunday after service,” you explain, taking a quick sip of your drink. Matt nods his head, of course he didn’t suspect you were cheating, but he appreciated the explanation.

“Your dad has good taste,” he comments. You never spoke about your family so everything he knew was by word of mouth. He knew the basics; your dad was a Pastor, you came from a conservative family, and your Sundays were usually occupied with church.

You hum in response, trying to think of a topic to avert the conversation from your dad, and, as if on cue, the front door rings. A customer just walked into the restaurant, nothing out of the ordinary, but upon further inspection you realize it’s your dad. You’re mid sip, choking slightly on the liquid as you try quickly swallowing from the shock.

Matt notices your distress, following your gaze to see what has you so nervous all of a sudden. That’s when he sees him, your dad standing by the front waiting to be seated. Matt’s not scared, but he is nervous to possibly meet your dad. He wants to make a good impression, but with the tattoos, long hair, and lingering smell of cigarette smoke, he doubts he’ll be successful in doing that.

“Speak of the devil,” you mumble, watching closely for your dad’s next move.

Matt’s surprised you’re not rushing to leave, you actually look calm now, almost like you’re hoping your dad will be seated one booth over. For the first time in your relationship he senses an ulterior motive behind your actions and he doesn’t know whether to be scared or turned on.

He remembers the good girl you were, the girl who always arrived to class on time, the girl who would never be caught skipping school and he wonders where this sudden rebellious nature came from. But now he gets it, this is a game to you, you want your dad to catch you skipping school with the ‘bad boy,’ you want to make your dad so upset his face turns red. Matt doesn’t know what to think about that, but if this is the game then he’d happily play along, he’d do anything for his girl.

The restaurant host sits your dad a few booths down and he situates himself in the seat directly facing you, if he looks your way at the right angle he’d easily see you. But he’s too occupied in conversation with the waitress to notice anything, ordering his food before pulling out a book.

“Here’s your food, Miss Y/n,” the waitress says with a smile, placing plates of food on the table. The waitress learned your name from all the years your family visited the restaurant, and although you appreciated the effort, you wanted to slap a hand against her mouth for giving you away. Matt’s eyes go wide, she said it really loud, did your dad hear?

“Thank you,” you reply quickly with a tight lipped smile, trying to shoo her away as fast as possible. You look back towards your dad’s booth, fully expecting him to still be turning pages in his book, but his eyes are locked on you. He’s seething, you can practically see the smoke coming from his ears.

You waited for him to get up from the booth and walk over to your table, but instead he pulls out his wallet and throws a bill on the table, grabbing his stuff and walking out. The waitress watches in confusion, and so do you. What the hell was he doing?

Matt senses the movement, straining his neck to watch your dad walk out. He suddenly becomes nervous because even though he wanted to help you piss off your parents, he also wanted to be the boyfriend parents welcomed with open arms despite his appearance.

When you finish eating, you’re walking out of the restaurant intently searching for your dad. He was sure to be lurking around the parking lot somewhere. You’re holding Matt’s hand, walking slowly to his car.

“Y/n! Where do you think you’re going?!” your dad’s voice booms from the other side of the parking lot. He waited outside until you and Matt finished your meal, not wanting to make a scene in his favorite restaurant.

You watch as he slams the car door closed, storming over to you and Matt with an unreadable expression on his face. “Is this what I send you to school for? So you can skip with.. with this?! What will people think? What will the church think? The pastors daughter off fornicating with a- with a delinquent,” your dad motions up and down Matt’s body, clearly displeased with his appearance and attire. It makes you so mad, but you don’t even get the chance to respond because your dad won’t stop talking, “You’re coming home with me right now. Say goodbye to your phone, cheerleading, and this boy because you’re never seeing them again!”

He attempts to grab your arm, but you pull away. “Y/n. Do not make this any more difficult than it already is. Let’s go!”

“No.” Your reply is short and curt, but it’s stern enough to appall your father.

“No? No?! Who do you think you are?! You’re nothing but a stupid little girl, now get in the car.” He reaches for you again, this time managing to pinch your skin slightly. “Ow, stop,” you exclaim, pushing him away from you slightly. Matt protectively moves you behind him in one quick swoop, using his body to prevent your dad from touching you again.

“Get out of the way, this is between me and my daughter.”

“Not happening,” Matt replies, towering over your dad.

“This is what you want, Y/n? A stupid hippie? He reeks of cigarettes and has tattoos, didn’t I teach you better?!” Matt is fuming at this point, your dad was the most disrespectful person he’d ever met. “Dad, just go. I’m not choosing you over Matt,” you reply, trying to stand your ground, but sounding so weak and small.

“I’m not asking you to choose me, I’m asking you to choose God. But if you want to choose this boy, then go ahead, but don’t come knocking on my door when he gets you pregnant and leaves you,” he yells. Was he kicking you out?

“What?” you ask, stepping out from behind Matt.

“You heard me, girl. Don’t bother coming home unless it’s without him.”

Without another word your dad is walking back to his car and pulling out of the parking lot, driving away and leaving you with nothing but the dust. You watch with teary eyes as his car disappears into the horizon, you never meant for it to end like this. All you wanted was a little freedom, but your rebellious actions have warranted a consequence you never anticipated.

“Hey, hey. It’s gonna be okay,” Matt whispers, bringing you in for a warm hug. He’s patting your hair as you bury your face in his chest, allowing the tears to flow. “What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?” you hiccup, wrapping your arms around Matt’s torso in an attempt to feel him closer.

“You can stay at my house,” he replies and he means it, he’d do anything for you. In retrospect he should’ve seen this coming from the moment he realized you were trying to piss off your parents, but he’s too far gone now to turn back. Matt’s too in love with you at this point for his own good, the only thing he can think to do is protect you.

“Are you sure?” you feel like a helpless little mouse again, except this time Matt feels like a security blanket instead of a potential threat.

“I’m sure.” Matt places a loving kiss on your lips before kissing your forehead and pulling you into him again.

Whatever happened, you and Matt were going to get through it together. After all, Matt decided to play your game.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Shwoop here you go luv u honey bunches thank you for the request. I hope you enjoy!!

Also, I had never heard this song before but it’s def going on my playlist now & I will be searching for those tiktok edits hehehe

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

#teapartyanonreqs✨💗 #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo headcannons #matthew sturniolo x y/n #matthew sturniolo oneshot #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt x y/n #matt sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x y/n #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #Matthew sturniolo angst

[daddy-dins-girl]

Talk Me Down

A fic requested by @anotherpedrolover

I was gonna wait until Frankie Friday (tomorrow) to post this, but this sweet human being has already waited like 2 months for me to finish this, lol, so here you go! I was asked to write a fic about insecure!Frankie who has some self-esteem/body image issues but after being with Reader (who is very appreciative of his body) he gets into it and develops a bit of a praise kink for it but but he hits a rough patch and gets into a dark place, feeling very undeserving of the love and attention Reader gives him. The person who made the request asked me to focus on his feelings and emotions when he is feeling bad and insecure (and specifically asked for some tears to be shed, lol) so I did my best to beat the crap out of Frankie (emotionally).

I hope this is somewhat what they had in mind and that they like it :) I've never really written anything like this (PWP queen over here) so I hope I got it right and didn't make Frankie too OOC. Hope you all enjoy it!

Page dividers provided by the gracious and talented @saradika-graphics

Ao3 link

My Masterlist Word Count: 9.8k Fandom: Triple Frontier (Frankie Morales x f!Reader) Notes: Pre/No TF Mission. Fic title is from the song of the same name by Troye Sivan. Warnings: 🔞 18+MDNI. Angst. Drama. Body Insecurity/Self-esteem issues. Praise Kink. Smut (pretty tame and not a lot, considering its me lol, but its there). Sad!Frankie. Mid-Life-Crisis!Frankie. Emotional hurt/comfort. Eventual happy ending. Established Relationship. No use of y/n. No physical description of Reader.

“Babe, have you seen my -“ you cut yourself off mid sentence as you turn the corner and your eyes land on your boyfriend, leisurely sprawled on the couch with his legs up on the ottoman, ankles crossed over each other and television remote firmly in hand while a baseball game plays in the background.

“Are you serious?”

“What?” Frankie asks, incredulous.

“We have to be at Will and Benny’s in like…” you pause to look at your watch. “Fifteen minutes! And what is that… are you eating the potato salad I made?”

“Was I not supposed to?” Frankie responds, forkful halfway to his mouth again already.

“Oh my god” You shake your head. You literally can’t with him today. You made that for the barbecue pool party today and now it was nearly half gone.

“Nevermind, let’s just go” you huff. You’re not in a great mood and maybe you’re being a little bitchier than usual thanks to this god awful heatwave but Frankie wasn’t helping matters any.

“I’ll be in the car” you grumble towards his general direction as you head out the front door. At least there’s A/C in the Jeep.

Surprisingly he doesn’t keep you waiting long. He’s shoving his slides on his feet as he hops down the front steps only a minute or so later and then jumps into the driver’s seat next to you, buckling his seatbelt and the two of you head out of the driveway.

“See, plenty of time” He grins at you when you pull up to the outside of your friends house a short while later with actually a few minutes to spare before your requested arrival time. You had attempted to stay mad at him, neither of you speaking more than one or two words the entire drive but now with that stupidly adorable smirk on his face you have no choice but to want to kiss it off of him. Despite your best efforts, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“There it is” his grin widens as he brings a hand up to pinch at your cheek and you playfully swat him away, trying and failing to hold back a little laugh.

“Baby I don’t know what you think we’re gonna miss anyway. It’s my birthday party. They literally can’t start without me”

“Francisco Morales, you’re going to be late to your own funeral, you know that don’t you?” You shake your head at him but the smile hasn’t left your lips.

“Oh baby we’re gonna be real late if you keep that ‘Francisco’ talk up” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at you and reaching over the center console to grab a handful of your upper thigh. “Maybe we skip the party all together, you give me my birthday present early, hmm?”

“Get out of the car you perv!” You laugh, giving him a playful shove. “Are you sure you’re turning 40 and not 14?”

“All right, all right I’ll behave” He sighs, hands up in the air to signal his defeat.

You’re glad he seems like he’s in a better mood so far today. He’s been a little off the last couple of days and you can’t say why. You’ve asked a few times if something was bothering him but he kept shrugging you off, insisting everything was fine. You chalked it up to maybe just work stress and are hoping now that the weekend is here that he’ll be able to just relax and have a great time with his friends.

Despite you being early, the party is actually in full swing on your arrival. You and Frankie let yourselves in through the back gate where the backyard is filled with several of Frankie’s (and now yours, you supposed) friends milling about. The ones you recognize immediately are his old military unit; Santiago, Benny, Will and Tom, as well as Will’s girlfriend and Tom’s wife. There are a few other people around you’ve definitely met before but can’t place all of them. Either way, you’re glad to see so many people have shown up for Frankie on his big day.

The space is decorated too with balloons everywhere, a giant banner that reads “Happy Birthday Fish!” and a big poster board is taped up against the side of the house as soon as you walk in that has pictures of Frankie and his family and friends all over it with the title “40 Years In The Making” written at the top in huge block lettering. You and Frankie both take a moment to look over the board before anyone deeper inside the yard notices you yet. There are a bunch of photos from his younger military days and even a few from when he was just a boy that have you gushing over him, telling Frankie how adorable he was and pinching his cheek for good measure. You spot a couple of pictures of Frankie having fallen asleep at a party (something he’s been known to do) with his signature ball cap pulled down over his face and beer bottle loosely gripped in his hand and those give you both a good laugh. There’s two photos of you and him together, you notice, and your personal favourite picture of Frankie - him flying his helicopter wearing a pair of Aviators, looking so sexy it makes you melt each time you see it.

You safely assume the wife and girlfriends of Frankie’s closest pals were mostly to thank for the decorating. If it were up to the boys there would be a folded table in the middle of the backyard with a pack of cards and a cooler full of beer and that would be it.

“There he is!” Benny shouts across the yard the moment he spots you both just inside the gate. He dashes across the patio and throws his arms around Frankie, nearly knocking him over in the process before landing a few hard slaps to his back. “Happy birthday ya old fuck” he teases, grabbing on to Frankie’s shoulder and jostling him slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be your turn soon enough” Frankie reminds him but Benny just shrugs.

“Always be younger than you though” he winks and that earns him a little shove from Frankie.

The rest of the greetings go more or less the same way, playful teasing or ribbing on Frankie for turning the big “4-0”. It gets old quickly but if it bothers Frankie he doesn’t let it show, just takes it in stride as he makes his way through the small crowd and says his hello’s.

By the time you get home much later that night you’re exhausted. It’s late and the day had been long (and hot in that blistering sun). Add to that you’re sober whereas everyone around you had been thoroughly wasted which made the night seem to drag on even longer. You wanted Frankie to have a great time, it was his birthday after all, so you offered to drive you both tonight and somehow that had turned into you offering to be an Uber driver for half the party so instead of it taking ten minutes to get home it had taken an hour.

“I’m beat” you announce through a long drawn out yawn, stretching tired limbs over your head. “You wanna come to bed with me, birthday boy?” You ask playfully, walking up to Frankie and looping your fingers through the belt loops of his tan cargo shorts to tug him a little closer, hoping he catches on that you’re not that tired.

“Think I’m gonna shower, I hate smelling like chlorine” he complains, gently taking your hands and removing them from his waist. “You go on, I won’t be long” he promises before leaning forward and planting a kiss to your forehead.

“Baby,” you whine, a masterful pout displayed on your lips. “C’mon upstairs with me, while it’s still your birthday” you try seductively, hand reaching out to brush over the outside of his pants at his crotch.

“I said I want to shower” Frankie replies back, a little too curtly for your liking and his tone leaving no room for argument as he pushes your hand away a second time. You frown and the huff of disappointment you breathe out doesn’t go unnoticed by your partner.

“Baby come on, I’m sorry. I just don’t wanna go to bed smelling like chemicals. Go on up to bed, I’ll be right behind you” he says with finality and gives your hand a little squeeze before dropping it and heading off to the bathroom.

You sigh but let him go. Truthfully you’d been trying to drag him out of the party for hours, desperate to get him alone and all to yourself. You don’t know what’s come over you today but you felt downright needy for him, your hormones just off the charts and now he’s making you wait even longer when all you want to do is rip his clothes off and show him exactly how glad you are that he was born forty years ago today and by some cosmic twist of fate found his way into your life.

Once in the bedroom and settled into bed you hear the spray of water come to life in the bathroom down the hall and your mind can’t help but drift and think about Frankie, naked and in the shower. How the water is cascading down his broad shoulders to his soft tummy and strong, thick legs and a heat floods your body, going straight to the lower part of your abdomen. You loved his body and you weren’t shy about telling him either. You remember back to when you’d first started dating, the early stages of your intimate relationship. He was so shy around you at first, always insisting the lights be off or even leaving his t-shirt on when you’d have sex. It was all a mystery to you, how someone as gorgeous as Frankie could have self-esteem issues but you loved to remind him how crazy he drove you and how perfect he was in your eyes.

At first he got so embarrassed at your borderline worship of his body, refused to even believe you in the beginning but he warmed up eventually to the point where he loved it. Craved it, even, your praise of him. Though he’d never admitted to it out loud and always remained a little bashful about it, you could tell. Frankie was already a very generous, selfless and enthusiastic lover, but when you really got vocal with him (or better yet let your tongue and hands do the talking) of how much you enjoyed every part of his physical anatomy, Frankie could get downright animalistic with you and it brought the already amazing sex to a whole new level for you both. You had definitely uncovered a little praise-kink in your boyfriend that you don’t think he even knew existed in himself and honestly no sexual relationship you’ve had in the past could ever hold a candle to the one you and Frankie have created together.

You plan on using every weapon in your arsenal on him tonight to truly wish him a happy birthday he won’t soon forget. You’ll caress, kiss and lick your way from his prominent neck vein, his broad chest with just the lightest smattering of golden brown hair, take more than enough time for your tongue to appreciate each of his small dusty pink nipples before you continue down his sternum to where he gets a little softer. You’ll playfully nip and suck at the small expanse of flesh at his belly that protrudes just barely over his waistline, making sure to let him know with words how gorgeous he is, how hot he makes you, how he’s all yours. You just hope you get to have your fill before he takes his own. It had taken you a while to get Frankie to allow you to appreciate him the way you wanted to. He was always insistent on your pleasure and he still is to this day, but you’ve managed to strike a fairly delicate balance now for the most part, though you’ll admit there are days where Frankie comes home and he just needs you. You’ve come to recognize it on him and you’re glad to give him the reins when that happens, knowing that he’ll allow you to do the same when you need it. When you said Frankie was a generous lover you weren’t exaggerating. That man would spend hours with his face buried between your legs if you’d let him, and sometimes you’d let him do just that. But tonight was for him and tonight you need him. Need to show him how in love with him you are in a way that words just can’t do.

You have to press your thighs together just at the thought of him in the shower now, hoping he won’t be long so you can hopefully pull him out of this weird mood he’d been in most of the day. It started not long after you got to Will and Benny’s. Just silly, little things that just seemed to set him off to the point where he’d either pick a fight with you (or whoever else he happened to be talking to) or just get overly quiet and wander off by himself. You think back trying to think what could’ve started it all. He’d gone into the party in a good enough mood but soon after he started acting weird. The two of you barely fought, like ever, and here you were today in front of all your friends getting into a yelling match with each other about goddamn sunscreen of all things. And it wasn’t just you, he seemed overly quiet today around everyone, even his best friends who were more like brothers to him than anything and none of it made sense to you, you just hope now that he was home maybe he’d get out of his funk.

Your mind doesn’t have any longer to dwell however because Frankie emerges from the bathroom and into the bedroom, already changed into a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Your tongue absent-mindedly peeks out to swipe across your bottom lip at the way the wet curls stick to his forehead or how tiny droplets of water soak through the thin cotton of his dark gray t-shirt because he didn’t quite dry himself all the way off before tugging it over his head.

Not that it matters, you don’t plan on him wearing it long anyway.

“Finally” you smile at him from your spot on the bed and shuffle back slightly to pat down on the space next to you on the mattress. You pull back the bed covers to reveal that you’re wearing next to nothing, A black lacy bra and matching panties that really left nothing to the imagination. It was Frankie’s favourite on you.

“You didn’t have to wait up” Frankie says casually, looking down as he unfastens his watch from his wrist to toss it on the nightstand. If he notices your state of nearly undress during his brief glance in your direction he doesn’t say anything or even react. “Thought you were tired” he adds, feigning concern for your sleep habits.

“Read between the lines Morales, was just trying to get you into bed” you tease, sticking the tip of your tongue out at him playfully. He says nothing in response, just flips off the light and crawls in next to you but to your surprise just throws the comforter over you both and turns on his side and faces away from you as he scrunches up his pillow under his head until he’s comfortable and settles.

You frown, not that he can see you, but shuffle over to him anyway so you’re pressed up against his back and your arm slings around his waist. You stay still for a minute, waiting to see if he’ll take your less than subtle hint that you’re “not tired” but he just lays there, unmoving, and so you decide it’s time to take matters into your own hands. Literally.

Your hand slips under the hem of his shirt to rest on his soft belly and begins to gently explore. Fingertips dancing along the smooth skin and sparse little body hairs and moving over to his hip where you grab onto the small bit of extra skin there and massage his side but before you can go any further he’s grabbing your hand and pushing it out from under his shirt. He brings it to rest on top of his chest over the thin cotton of his t-shirt and just holds his hand over top of yours.

“Baby?” You breathe out into the blackness of the room, worry evident in your tone. Was he angry at you for something else now? You hadn’t even done anything for him to be mad at you about, you’ve been in bed the whole time.

“Sorry, I’m just tired” he mumbles into the pillow but you’re not buying it. Frankie was a bit of a night owl, not to mention it was a Saturday night, neither of you had work in the morning and the two of you always made sure to make the most of your weekend nights together when you could really take the time to make love the way you craved to all week.

“Hey,” you call out softly, grabbing for his shoulder and pulling it towards you so he’ll turn to face you. He lets you, turning halfway to you, onto his back and craning his neck to face you.

“Is everything okay? Are you mad at me or something?” You ask genuinely concerned. You try not to make it sound like you’re pouting because you’re not, you just need to know what’s going on with him. Maybe he’s upset about something, or maybe just a little too drunk to actively participate the way he thinks he should but you wouldn’t mind too much if he was, you certainly don’t mind taking care of him and you know he’ll more than make it up to you the next time.

He lets out a sigh and tiredly rubs at his eyes.

“Of course not. Come here, I’m sorry” he sighs once more and lifts his arm closest to you so you can snuggle into him, your head resting on his shoulder and your arm drapes across his middle again. He tilts his head down slightly to kiss the top of your hair but otherwise makes no moves to initiate anything further physically with you, just holds you tightly to his body.

“Are you really tired?” You ask quietly, turning your face slightly to nuzzle into his neck and plant little kisses there. You feel the little shudder that runs through his body and a smile pulls at your lips.

Maybe he wasn’t mad at you.

“I haven’t given you your present yet” you breathe into the warm flesh of his throat, tongue darting out to give a tentative little lick to the underside of his jaw and he rewards you with the slightest little moan, but it’s enough that you heard it and it encourages you to continue.

You begin to kiss and lick your way down the column of his throat while your hand leaves his chest to come down and gently palm him over his boxers and he instinctively thrusts his hips into your touch and you moan into his skin. You can feel him beginning to swell under your touch already.

“Mmm, can I take you out?” You murmur against his collarbone and he nods his head.

“Yeah,” he lets out in a breathy whisper and brings his own free hand down to help you shove his boxers down his thighs until he’s able to kick out of them.

Your hand wraps around his impressive length the moment he’s free from the confines of his underwear, slowly pumping him with practiced strokes and it’s not long until he’s fully hard in your hand and quietly grunting and groaning, your face buried in the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. You hate that his shirt is still on, your mouth not able to reach all the places it desperately wants to.

Your hand leaves him for a moment as you push yourself up onto your knees and swing one leg over him so you're straddling his hips, your hands resting on his chest overtop of the soft worn cotton.

“You can be tired baby, let me all do the work” you coo, leaning down to place another kiss to his jaw as you slowly grind your pelvis into his. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just too tired or drunk to have the full cognitive function he needed but that was fine by you, tonight was for him anyways.

“Shit,” he groans, hands sliding under the back of your panties to grope the globes of your ass in his two large hands and he presses you down even harder against his groin just as he thrusts his hips upwards, the delicious friction causing a moan to escape your lips.

“Mmm, you feel so good” you whimper against his heated flesh as you nuzzle the underside of his jaw and into his throat.

“Take these off” Frankie practically growls, impatiently shoving your underwear down and with his help you manage to wiggle free of them. You both moan in unison when your lower halves press together again, this time with no barriers between you as his throbbing member slides through your slick folds with every calculated thrust of your hips against him.

“Baby you make me so wet” you giggle, hands roaming his hard chest and broad shoulders. “God you’re so hot” you praise, mouth latching back onto his neck as you trail hot open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat until you reach the collar of his t-shirt.

“Off” you gently demand, hands going to the bottom of his tee and beginning to push it upwards. You need to feel all of him, his warm skin on yours. Need to lick and kiss and touch every inch of him. “Let me touch you”

“Mnnmm mnmm” he shakes his head and without warning suddenly flips you both with practiced ease until you’re underneath him flat on your back and he’s on hands and knees looming over you. He grabs your wrists and hauls them up above your head, bringing them together so he’s able to hold them down with one hand against the top of the mattress so he can have one free and you giggle up at him.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re supposed to be tired, old man” you tease him but there’s no mirth in his eyes after he hears your words, no lingering smile on his lips. There’s desire, sure, but something else on his features. Subtle, whatever it is, but it’s there.

“Do you wanna fuck or not? Jesus,” he snaps. “I can’t do anything fucking right”

Oh, and there it is. It’s anger.

Your face scrunches up at his little outburst. That was not like Frankie at all. Not your sweet, loving, caring Frankie who adored you, this was someone else, someone you didn’t recognize.

“Get off me” you huff, easily wiggling your wrists free as he wasn’t holding too tightly and you bring your hands up to shove at his chest. His yelling at you instantly taking you out of the mood.

He does, immediately. He rolls off of you, grabs for his discarded boxers near the bottom of the bed and shoves them on. You do the same with your own underwear and also pull the sheet up to cover yourself, not wanting to feel any more vulnerable in front of him than you already do.

You have no idea what in the fuck that was all about, snapping at you like that when you thought everything was going rather well. He really was in a mood today apparently, and you didn’t care for it one bit. You’re already feeling overly emotional today, your period must be just around the corner or something.

The room falls silent. Frankie sits on the edge of the side of the bed, hands on his thighs and head hanging low while you lay back against the headboard, fingers twisting into the sheets, holding them around you like a shield. Tears well in your eyes, threatening to fall but you quickly blink them away before you bury your head in your knees.

“Do you want me to sleep downstairs?” He asks softly, the gruffness gone from his voice now. He sounds almost apologetic, though he’s still yet to apologize. He's not looking at you either, but your grateful for that at this moment.

You say nothing. Not trusting your voice just yet but the tiniest sniffle from your nose is near deafening in the stillness of the room. You quickly clear your throat in an attempt to cover the sound but it’s too late. Frankie’s head whips around back in your direction and he’s suddenly scrambling up the bed to wrap his arms around your lower back. Your legs lower instinctively to let him in and he lies over top of you with his head resting on your middle.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” he breathes out, voice muffled by the thin layer of the bed sheet as he buries his face into your stomach. “I’m an asshole”

“You’re not” you sigh. “Just - tell me what’s going on with you” you say calmly, hands now petting through his hair.

“Nothin’” he grumbles into your tummy.

“It’s not nothing, come on,” you try, a little softer this time. “You can tell me anything, you know I love you no matter what”

“Why?”

It's so quiet, so soft, mumbled against you that your ears almost didn’t even pick it up. Your heart breaks a little at the single uttered syllable.

“Hey,” you frown, grabbing both sides of his face in your hands and forcing him to look up at you. “Are you seriously asking why I love you? Where’s this coming from?” You ask, concerned. He’s been known to get down on himself from time to time but you’ve never seen him like this and it worries you.

He lets out a heavy sigh and rolls off of you, crawling up the bed to lay on his back next to you and rubs his hands over his face.

“Baby, talk to me” you press, turning to your side and curling up to his larger frame, hand stretching out to rest on his chest as your fingers play absently with the soft material of his t-shirt. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah, 40 happened” he groans, hand doing a sweeping motion down his body. “I mean, look at this” he shakes his head.

“Oh baby trust me, I look at this every day” you counter, an appreciative smile playing on your lips as your hand gently rubs into his chest.

“This perfect,” you pause to press a kiss into his cheek. “Sexy,” another kiss to his jaw. “Man of my dreams”

“Stop” he huffs, gently pushing you away. “Just don’t… say shit like that. It’s not true” he argues, flipping over onto his side to face away from you.

You know when to push him and when not to, and now is not one of those times. You’ll let him have his moment, knowing if you get too in his face about it he’s likely just going to shut down and you need him to be open with you if you’re going to get anywhere. So instead you just leave him be, but stay nestled into his side, your hand rubbing small circles into his back and shoulder blades, just a soft gesture to let him know you’re here and not going anywhere.

Long minutes pass and after a while you think maybe he’s fallen asleep, until you hear it. It’s barely audible, but it’s there. The tiniest whimper falls from his lips, followed by a quiet little sniffle before he buries his face into a pillow in an attempt to cover it up and your whole heart breaks in two.

“Frankie, baby” you soothe, pulling on his shoulder and forcing him to turn towards you. Surprisingly he doesn’t fight it, just lets you roll him over and he instantly buries his face in your neck once he’s facing you, unable to look you in the eyes. But you don’t need to see him, you can feel the hot tears on his cheeks as he presses into you and you wrap your arms around his shoulders a little tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head as he lets his emotions out.

“I love you, ok?” You whisper against his chocolate brown curls, your lips pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He says nothing, just nods his head against you that he knows you love him and he knows he’s being oversensitive but he just can’t help it.

“I wish you could see what I see” you murmur against him, still hugging him tightly to your body.

Franky gently pushes back from you slightly, quickly wiping at his eyes and collecting himself before his red-rimmed gaze settles on yours.

“I’m sorry I’m in a shit mood and taking it out on you, it’s not fair and you don’t deserve it” he apologizes, shaking his head slightly. “I’m just feeling down on myself I guess and I dragged you into it and I’m sorry”

“Is that what’s been going on all day?” You ask, genuinely curious. You’re starting to piece it together now, all the teasing he’s put up with all day, how he only seemed to be snapping at you when you complimented him or tried to take off his shirt tonight. Not to mention all his friends running around half naked in just their swim trunks all afternoon, most of whom kept themselves in very tip top shape. Maybe Frankie had grown a little softer since the two of you have been together but you loved it on him, his ‘dad bod’ physique. He has nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, as far as you’re concerned. But you suppose it’s hard not to feel self conscious when standing next to a shirtless Will, Benny or Santiago who all look like they could be models in some sort of hot firefighter calendar or something. None of them did anything for you though, Frankie would always hold your heart and your gaze, no matter who he was standing next to.

“I guess” Frankie sighs, fingers now picking at an imaginary thread on the blanket underneath you. “Sometimes I just wonder…” he trails off again and you frown.

“Wonder what?”

“Wonder what in the hell you’re doin’ with me” he sighs, throwing his hands up. “I’m a fuck-up. Forty years old and what have I accomplished in my life? I have a shit job, working for an asshole I can’t stand, flying tourists around and giving private lessons on the side to rich jerkoffs who don’t give a shit about learning anything about flying, just want a cool photo for their Instagram. Since I left the service I just feel like… Like I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing with my life anymore so I just haven’t done fucking anything. And you… god knows why you give me the time of day but you do and I just don’t ever feel like I’m enough. Least I could fucking do for you is go to the gym and take care of myself, god knows I need to eat healthier” He shakes his head and you’re unsure for a moment if he’s done beating himself up but before you even have a chance to articulate a response he starts up again.

“Like look at this!” He shouts suddenly, voice raised much higher than moments earlier as he rips his shirt off his head and sweeps his hand down his front. “How can you be in love with this, with someone who looks like this?! I… fuck’”

He doesn’t get any more words out, his hands flying to his face to hide his shame as he starts sobbing with how much hatred he apparently holds for himself and you can’t take it. You lurch forward, wrapping your arms around him and holding him as tightly to your body as possible. Thankfully he doesn’t push you away, just grabs onto you like you're his only lifeline, clinging to you with desperation.

“Frankie, my love, oh Frankie” you’re in tears now too, holding onto him for dear life so he can’t slip away from you. You won’t let him. Not this time.

You crawl into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist and arms still around his neck like a needy spider monkey.

“I love you, so fucking much” you clarify, because you need him to hear you. “I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable. I know I can get carried away sometimes but I guess I just thought you were okay with it, thought we were both into it. But I’ve never lied to you when I tell you how I feel about you or your body. Do you hear me, Francisco?” You ask and after a moment he nods his head just slightly, just once.

“I am crazy about you, whether you believe it or understand it. But if it makes you uncomfortable when I express my physical attraction to you the way that I do, then I'll stop. Or, you know, try to. Sometimes in the heat of the moment it might just come out but you can remind me and I swear I'll do my best. Just tell me what you need from me baby, whatever it is I’ll give it to you. I can’t lose you Frankie, I can’t!” Your tears flow even harder and Frankie’s grip around you tightens at your words.

“I know, I know” he murmurs softly. “Too fucking good for me” he reiterates quietly, but not in an argumentative way like he’d meant it earlier, more like he can’t believe you put up with his shit but he’s so glad that you do. You think maybe your words have sunk in because he's not arguing with you anymore, not berating himself, just absorbing everything. You decide to leave it be for now. You've said your peace, now you can only hope he'll believe your words and take everything you've said into consideration to fend off whatever demons are feasting inside of him. All you want is his happiness and you know that you can't be the one to solely give that to him, that he needs to find it within himself as well, but you're damn sure willing and hoping that he'll take the support you give him and that he'll let you be there at his side to continue to take on this journey of life together. If he wants to find a new job, or a new career even, you'd support him through that in every way you can. You'll do whatever is in your power to get him through this and you just hope now that he knows that.

You hold each other for several minutes, neither of you saying anything further, just taking whatever comfort you have left to offer one another. You don't push him for any more communication, assuming if he's not speaking it's because his thoughts are still a little all over the place and he still hasn't quite worked it all out for himself. He'll talk about it again when he's ready and whether that's tonight or tomorrow or next month, you'll wait for him. He's worth the wait, there's no doubt in your mind about that.

After a while Frankie shifts you both until he’s lied down on his back on the bed with you half draped over top of him and eventually sleep overcomes the tears and emotions and your breathing evens out as you both drift off within minutes of lying down, the full events of the day finally taking its toll on your weary bodies.

When you wake again the sun hasn’t quite risen to the sky but you know it’s only minutes away, not hours. You feel like you didn’t sleep at all. Your head is pounding like you’re the one who finished a gallon of tequila last night, not your boyfriend and his friends. Frankie is beside you, though you’ve more or less switched positions. You’re fully on your back with Frankie’s arm draped across your middle, his face buried into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder and he snores softly. You’re glad he’s sleeping peacefully, god knows he needs it. You carefully extract yourself from him, needing to get up and use the bathroom, tossing on a pair of shorts and a tank top. As you pad across the plush carpeting and out to the hallway your mind spins a hundred different directions as you think about yesterday, about last night. You were both highly emotional but truth be told you’ve felt off for weeks. More tired. Bitchy. And you know you’ve been taking it out on Frankie even when he’s the last person that deserves it and who knows, maybe he thought you’ve been trying to push away from him and last night he just tried to do it himself before you got the chance to and he let his insecurities get the better of him. Of course that wasn’t your intention, you’ve never felt for anyone the way you feel about him and you meant every word last night when you told him you can’t lose him. You’ve just been a mess lately and you can’t really explain it other than you know it’s nothing to do with Frankie and certainly not his fault, he just takes the brunt of your ‘crazy’ because he’s the closest person to you. You don’t know what the fuck has been going on with you unless…

Shit.

You practically sprint the rest of the way to the bathroom down the hall, tossing open drawers and cupboards and medicine cabinets in a flurry as you look for that precious little white stick that might explain a whole hell of a lot that’s been going on with you.

“Hey” you softly call out from the doorway of the bedroom, leaning up against it with a large glass of water in hand. Frankie slowly stirs. He’s on his stomach now and raises his head to look at you through sleep-bleared eyes, wayward curls falling across his forehead.

“Hey” he rasps out, voice no doubt shot from all the talking and yelling and crying from last night.

This is what the water was for.

You cross the room and he immediately throws the blanket open, inviting you into his warm cocoon as he slightly sits up against the headboard. You hand him the water as you settle in next to his large warm frame and he chugs the entire glass in record time.

“Ah, thank you, I needed that” he says, clearing his throat and then reaching past you to place the glass on the nightstand before he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur into his chest, hand coming up to draw small shapes against his clavicle.

“Like a bit of a first class idiot, if I’m bein’ honest” he sighs and you squeeze your arms around him a little tighter.

“Don’t, babe” you tut, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You were feeling a lot yesterday and it obviously needed to come out. I’m glad it did. We need to be honest with each other, you know?” You tell him, tilting your head to look up at his face. He flashes the tiniest smile at you and leans down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose before you settle back against his chest.

“Some of the things I said last night though, I didn’t even mean. Not really…” he trails off, shaking his head like he’s trying to get his thoughts in order.

You push back from him slightly and up into a sitting position and turn to face him so the two of you can have a real conversation.

“Like what?”

He shrugs shyly and looks away, fingers fidgeting with the blanket around his waist. You hear a mumbled ‘dunno’ fall from his lips. You have a pretty good idea what he’s getting at but know that he’s too embarrassed to say it himself so you help him out, scooting a little closer and placing a hand on his naked chest before you let it slowly drift lower, fingertips dancing across his warm soft flesh and his eyes close and he lets out a content little sigh as he feels your hands on his body again.

“Last night I thought that maybe… I sometimes make you feel uncomfortable when we’re in bed with the attention I give and show you... Was that just insecure Frankie talking?” You ask softly. His eyes are still closed but he nods his head. Your hand rests on his stomach and you slide it upwards again and wrap it around his neck, your thumb brushing back and forth behind his ear.

“Sorry I basically called you a liar last night. That wasn’t fair of me” He tells you sincerely, finally opening his eyes to look back at yours. “I know you love me. All of me. God knows why, but you do” he finishes with a teasing smirk.

“I do love all of you. Every inch. And sometimes I just love showing you how much I do” you shrug.

“I know. And if I’m bein’ honest… I do… y’know, like it. I really like it. I just, yesterday, I don’t know what came over me. Just feeling sorry for myself I guess and wasn’t feeling… up to par, for you, and I guess I got a little too much in my own head. Shit I don’t know, guys teasing me all night, I probably had too much to drink and looking at those stupid pictures of me from when I was much younger and took better care of myself just had me feeling not very good about myself”

“Frankie, baby,” you begin, shifting your position so you can swing one knee over to the other side of his hips so you’re sitting on his lap on your knees facing him while he rests against the headboard. His hands immediately go to your hips and rest there, just holding you, while yours go to his shoulders.

“You never have to doubt for a moment how I feel about you. How I desire you. I need you to hear me on that” you tell him, staring into his eyes in hopes he doesn’t get too embarrassed and turn away from you again. To your delight, he doesn’t. He holds your gaze and his thumbs absently draw small circles on your hips. “I am in love with this Frankie, the one right in front of me. To me he’s sweet and perfect and yeah, he turns me on. Like, a fucking lot. So sorry, but you’re just gonna have to face facts, and thems the facts” you conclude teasingly and he lets out a little chuckle.

“Understood” he nods once before he pushes forward slightly and his mouth latches on to the side of your throat, gently kissing at your inviting flesh. Your head falls back and your hands travel up to hold the back of his head, fingers running through soft chestnut curls.

“There’s something else you said last night…” you begin, trailing off slightly as Frankie’s hot mouth on your skin attempts to distract you.

“Mmm?” He mumbles into your neck, not letting up from what he’s doing as he licks and nips and sucks at the supple flesh of your throat.

Despite wanting nothing more than for him to continue, your hands go to his chest and you gently push him back. He falls back against the headboard with a quiet thud and looks at you with a hint of confusion and worry in his gaze.

“You said you haven’t accomplished anything since leaving the military and well… I just wanted you to know that I am currently in possession of evidence that you have accomplished something very special. Might even be the most important thing you’ve done in your life” you shrug and he raises a curious eyebrow at you.

“Possess… what? What do you mean?”

Rather than spell it out for him, you take his large hand in two of yours and bring it to rest on your stomach, his palm flat across the span of your belly. It’s probably too early for a ‘bump’ just yet but you hold his hand there all the same and within seconds you watch as the realization dawns across his face. At first his brow furrows like he’s confused but then they perk up and his face splits into a giant grin that reaches his eyes and causes them to crinkle at the corners.

“Baby are you… are you serious?” He asks for confirmation and you simply nod your head.

“I mean, I think so. I’ve been feeling kinda off for a while and you my dear boyfriend were too sweet to call me out on any of my crazy shit” you add teasingly and huffs a little laugh but shakes his head. “Then it all kinda clicked into place when I woke up so I took a test this morning and it was positive” you shrug. “I’ll have to make a doctors appointment to be su-“

You don’t get the rest of the words out before Frankie is on you. He surges forward pressing his mouth to yours in a firm kiss before he moves to start peppering tiny little kisses all over your face and neck until you’re bubbling over with laughter as his facial scruff tickles your throat with his frantic movements.

“We’re having a baby?” He asks, eyes welled up with tears as he pushes back from you to stare into yours. He needs to hear you say it, make sure he’s not dreaming this moment. You had a close call together once before, hence the left over pregnancy tests in your bathroom cupboard but nothing came of it. Neither of you expressed disappointment or relief over the false alarm several months back, just kept on with your lives but now it felt different. At least for you. You felt… ready. Excited, even.

“We’re having a baby” you confirm, wide grin across your lips, ecstatic that Frankie is happy with this news.

“Oh my god” he breathes out, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you tightly against his chest so he can bury his nose in your hair. “I'm gonna be a dad?”

“You’re gonna be a great dad” you clarify.

“Oh my god” he breathes out again, pulling you back tightly against him one last time.

“I’m so glad you’re happy about this” you blubber through a few tears, squeezing him back just as tightly. You really weren’t sure how this news would go over, especially given the events of last night and how Frankie currently felt about his position in life but you are incredibly relieved at how happy this news has made him. You weren’t planning this, like at all, but you suppose when you have as much sex as you and Frankie do, no matter how careful you are, it’s bound to happen.

“Of course I'm happy” Frankie murmurs into your shoulder. “I’m so fucking happy” you can feel a few stray tears fall against your skin and you smile, holding him impossibly tighter.

You stay there for several long moments, just letting everything sink in before Frankie speaks and breaks the silence. It’s quiet, muffled into the warmth of your skin as his face stays buried in your neck, but you hear it.

“Will you marry me?”

“What?” You breathe out in shock. You heard him, you know you heard exactly what he said, but… is this really happening?

“Will you-”

“I heard you” you quickly interrupt, gently pulling back from him enough so you can look at each other again. You put both hands on his face, searching for any traces of regret like maybe he just blurted that out because of the endorphins coursing through his body but he looks back at you only with pure love in those giant brown irises of his.

All the same, you need to be sure he’s absolutely sure and not just doing this because he thinks it’s ‘the right thing to do’. You want him to marry you because he wants to marry you, not because of any obligation he might feel. To be honest you’ve been waiting for a while for him to pop the question, you figured you’ve been together long enough, living together even for a while now but it hadn’t happened yet. You try not to feel too over excited that he’s asked you now, in case it’s for the wrong reasons, but you can’t help but feel how your heart practically soared the moment the words fell from his lips.

“And?...” Frankie asks hopefully and you realize it’s been several long seconds without you actually giving him an answer.

“Baby,” You sigh, your gaze glancing down for a moment and you feel his shoulders drop a little, like he’s already anticipating you saying no to him. “I would marry you in a damn heartbeat but… I just don’t want you to ask me now because you think you have to. This is a lot, I just don’t want to put any more pressure on you. I don’t expect you to suddenly feel ready to marry me because of this”

You try desperately to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. If he agrees with you and takes it back you won’t be mad with him but you know your heart will be just a little bit broken.

“Wait right here” he suddenly pipes up, taking your hands and pressing them into your lap before he extracts himself from the bed and runs over to the closet. You watch him closely, not exactly sure what he’s up to as he scavenges around at the top of the closet for a moment, rooting through a box you recognize that holds some of his military achievements that he said he didn’t want to hang up or have on display, a chapter of his life he had closed.

He seems to find what he’s been after and scurries back over to the bed, crawling across it on his knees until he’s back in front of you again and presses a small blue velvet box into your hands. You flip the lid open and a soft gasp leaves your lungs.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to do this” he shrugs. “I bought it weeks ago and I wanted to, you know, plan something big for you and then ask you but, I mean, what’s a bigger moment than this, right?”

Your eyes well up again (happy tears this time) as you stare down at the beautifully crafted diamond engagement ring that sparkles brightly despite the low lighting of your bedroom. The band is a beautiful rose gold, your favourite, and the cut of the diamond and style of the ring is one you’ve been dreaming about since you were a little girl. Clearly Frankie paid attention all those times you happened to pass by a jewelry store together.

“You’ve had this for weeks?” You ask through your tears, still not believing it, your dream actually coming true. Not only was Frankie asking you to marry him, but it was his idea and something he’d decided on long before he knew you were pregnant.

“Yeah I guess I’ll have to call off the marching band and the flash-mob dancers now though” he teases with a smirk. “Unless you want me to take it back and-” he goes to reach for the ring but you snatch the box out of reach, clutching it to your chest.

“Not on your life pal” you playfully threaten.

“Can I at least put it on you then?” he laughs. “That is, if you’re saying yes? Wait, let me…” he trails off and scoots off the bed again only to kneel down on one bent knee beside it. He reaches up and turns you so you’re facing him and a huge dopey smile spreads across your lips as you watch him want to do this at least somewhat properly. If anyone asks later you’ll leave out the part where he’s half naked when he popped the question.

“May I have that back, just for a second?” He asks and you oblige him, handing back the box.

He begins with saying your full name and your heart practically flutters in your chest as you take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure and get through this without being a weeping, blubbering mess.

“Would you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife?” he asks, slight tremble in his voice from his nerves and all you can do is give him a face splitting smile before you frantically nod your head and yank him up from the floor, crushing your mouth to his.

“Yes I’ll marry you Francisco Morales” you murmur against his lips between hungry kisses. “About damn time” you tease and he laughs at that as well. He knows he probably should have done this sooner but he’d been waiting to save up enough money to get you the perfect ring he knew you deserved.

Frankie regretfully pulls away from your mouth to carefully pull the ring from the box and place it on your finger before he holds both your hands in his and lets out a big sigh of relief.

“You make me so happy” he confesses, leaning down so his forehead rests against yours. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you any reason to doubt that, but you’re the best thing in my life. Best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making sure that you and this little one feel the same way about me”

“I will always feel the same way about you Frankie” you promise, eyes slipping shut as another tear escapes which Frankie gently brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

“You’re sure you’re still gonna love me when I’m even more of a pain in the ass in a few months than I am now?” You ask playfully and Frankie huffs a laugh but nods his head affirmatively.

“We’re locked in now baby” Frankie affirms, gently twisting the ring around your finger. “It’s you and me”

“Plus one” you add, looking down to your tummy and Frankie laughs.

“Plus one” he confirms. “And maybe down the line… more than one?” he asks playfully, moving a little closer and nuzzling into your throat before he begins to plant hot little open-mouthed kisses there. You laugh wholeheartedly, your head tossing backwards. Leave it to Frankie to learn five minutes ago that you’re barely pregnant and already asking you if you want another. You really did love him with all your heart and you don’t think you’ve ever been happier than in this moment.

And it turns out that was the truth, that was your happiest moment, until about seven months later a new one replaces it as you hold your beautiful daughter in your arms for the first time. Frankie is at your side with his forehead resting against yours as a tiny hand clutches around one of his large fingers, the one that happens to have a shiny gold band around it now, and tears flow freely down his cheeks. He’d barely gotten there in time for your unexpectedly two-week-early delivery, but he’d made it. Thankfully he was well enough known around the hospital by this point that they allowed him to land his bird on the helipad on the roof before he jumped out and let his co-pilot take over for him as he rushed inside to find you.

It turned out Frankie had found his calling not long after your little unexpected surprise all those months ago. His reflections on the direction his life was going, coupled with your exciting news of having an addition to your family, gave him the push he needed to have his career together in a way that was both rewarding and challenging to him and after a few months of long days and intense training he was accepted into the local Red Cross chapter’s Search and Rescue Program as a Lead Pilot. He loved his job again. He was proud of what he did and most importantly knew that his family could be proud of him too. It allowed him to give back and to serve his community and country the way he always felt he was meant for, except now he could do it and still be home in time for dinner most nights, not shipping out to god knows where for months at a time as he had done in the service.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Morales” the doctor beamed at the two of you, though neither of you could take your gaze off the tiny bundle in your arms long enough to look back at her. Frankie mumbled a polite ‘thank you’ towards her before pressing a kiss into your temple.

“You did it baby” he murmurs against your skin and you can feel the smile spread across his lips.

“We did it baby” you correct him, turning your head just slightly to press a kiss to the underside of his chin. “We made this beautiful, perfect angel” you sigh, nuzzling back in towards your daughter, inhaling that euphoric ‘new baby smell’ you’d up until now only read about but now completely understood.

“My girls” Frankie sighs, heart swelling with content at how goddamn lucky he got in his life.

“Thank you for loving me” he confesses, lips pressed to your temple.

Taglist: @nerdieforpedro @suzdin @iamasaddie @boliv-jenta @chronically-ghosted @vabeachazn @anotherpedrolover @axshadows @pedroshotwifey @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings

#frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales #triple frontier #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction

[romanoffsbish]

In Your Corner

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request | WC: 3,885

It had been supposed to be another great year that had come to a close for you. Every year, without fail Tony would throw you a party, but this year he was preoccupied with his family. He hadn't even had the time to send you a text.

That hurt, but you new infants were a lot of work so you gave him and Pepper that pass, but as you entered the communal kitchen you found yourself disappointed again. You'd been used to waking up to the smell of a homemade breakfast made by your best friend, but this year Wanda was off to Cannes with Vis for an impromptu trip, she too had forgotten to text.

The remainder of the team had seemingly also forgotten, each one just hanging around the compound and your lover was off on a mission so you couldn't fault her for the lack of text.

——

So, there you sat, on your shared floor with a pint of whatever frostbitten ice cream was left in your freezer as you watched Friends reruns and cried into your couch cushions as Rachel and Ross fought over the terms of a "break".

The show continued on, laugh tracks sounding off, even when it wasn't really that funny but your focus had since shifted to your dry phone. When you realized no one would remember now as it'd already reached noon you settled into the loneliness and slipped off into a nap.

—

Natasha was stressed to the max on a quinjet, pacing back and forth as Clint flew them home. She'd been gone for two weeks now, and she told Fury that there was no way she'd miss your birthday. It was too important to her that the two of you at least have time to celebrate.

Your life was the most important thing to her, so of course the day of your birth was as well.

So he sent in some agents to replace them as the bulk of the work had been completed and all that was really left was the clean up. There was no reason to extend what had already been extended from a weekend away to two weeks.

When they landed she rushed off the jet and went straight to the common area. She was softly panting from the exertion, but her breathing slowed to nothing as she surveyed the room. Steve and Bucky sat on opposite ends of the couches reading, while Sam and Peter were on the ground, the former one cursing as they played a round of Mario Kart.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Clint's eyes widened as he walked in as Natasha growled. The men in the room looked to her confused, the youngest of them all was the first to speak. "We're having a chill day Mrs. Romanoff."

"Wrong answer," Clint tossed out before rushing out of the room to debrief with Hill as he promised Natasha he'd do for her sake.

"Now why would you be doing that Parker?"

"Natasha, we don't have the energy for your riddles, so speak your peace," Bruce boldly piped up from the corner he'd been sat in.

"Banner, I suggest you leave now," she gritted, her fists bunched up, and the scientist lost all of his bite when he remembered the Hulk wasn't going to be on his side. He soon left with his head down and metaphorical tail tucked.

Which was the best gift your wife could honestly offer: his disappearance. He'd been nothing but bitter since you two got together.

"What's wrong Nat?" Bucky asked, much softer and genuine. Of all people here he'd be granted a pass as he'd not been here in the years prior.

"I'm just wondering where the decorations are, and why my wife isn't here surrounded by the people who she celebrates joyously every year."

Expressions of guilt, and trepidation overtook the entirety of the limited team members faces.

"Friday, where's Y/N?" Natasha asked, only adding salt to the wounded men as she replied: "Asleep upstairs on your couch, it appears she had cried herself to sleep about a half hour ago. Shall I wake her for you Agent Romanoff?"

"No, please do let me know if she wakes up." Friday agreed, and she shifted her attention back to the men who'd all stood to their feet.

Natasha's heart had sank at the notion of you feeling the way you did, as if you were easily overlooked, and not valued, so she knew she needed to fix the mess everyone had made.

"Peter, swing to the bakery at once and return with a tray of those cupcakes." The young boy looked defeated, your wife didn’t hold this against him, on account that he was a kid, but she didn’t waver with her glare and that got him to scramble to activate his suit and leave.

“Wilson, Rogers, and Barnes, go decorate the garden, leave behind your generous gifts, then stay out of sight for the rest of the day."

The redhead then shot off texts to everyone else to scold them just in case they too forgot. Then she took off to the gym lockers so she could freshen up without having to enter your shared floor and risk waking you up just yet.

After she changed from her suit into a pair of shorts and a muscle tee she set off to collect you for a day of last minute, but proper plans. The guys had just finished their part, and left to Wilson's apartment so she could fix the day.

As she entered your shared space she was greeted by an obnoxious laugh track, your melted ice cream and your sleeping form.

Natasha took a minute to survey the scene, and after a moment of admiring you her heart effectively broke as she eventually saw the dampened fabric of your couch. If not for her desire to celebrate your birth she'd be stealthily bringing an end to all that made you this sad.

With a quiet, determined step she moved about your shared floor, cleaning up the mess you'd been accumulating ever since she left. Then she settled a kiss to your cheek as she shut off the TV before venturing off down the hallway to run you a warm tub full of water. After she set the place up with a sprinkling of gifts, and a whole lot of love she’d set off to collect you.

To her luck you'd just groggily sat up, she found it funny that the silence is what woke you up as you'd just been snoring through Friends only a half an hour prior. "Natty?"

"Good morning sleepy head," she teased as she moved out of the hallway and into your sight. There was a dullness to your gaze as you tiredly surveyed her, not subtle at all as you looked her over for wounds, then again to check her out.

Natasha smirked, and began to approach you, she settled down beside you and cupped your cheek. There was a glimmer of hope in your gaze, and she spoke fast, making sure not to crush it. "Happy Birthday moya lyubov'."

"You remembered?" You sobbed, a bit dramatic you'd realize later, because of course she did, but in the moment you felt relieved. "Oh detka, how could I ever forget such an important day, hm? It's my most treasured."

Her lips pressed to your cheeks, catching the tears that slipped through your lashes, then they traversed the expanse of your face until they finally landed on your own as she pulled your body into her lap in one swift motion.

"Why's my pretty girl up here alone on her most special of days, hm?" Natasha knew, but she wanted to try and get your perspective and see the best possible way to change it. "Because everybody forgot Natty," you hiccuped as you burrowed into her neck. "Except for Friday."

Natasha hummed, her body slowly rocked yours in an attempt to hopefully soothe you as her own blood boiled with pure contempt.

"My sources say there was a cosmic fluke on Wanda's behalf, because she adores you so."

Natasha prayed for her sake this was true, because though she'd lose in a fight with the unfair advantage of powers, she wouldn't refrain from smacking her around anyways.

"The rest were simply forgetful idiots, but they felt terrible and have started the apology train," she decided to be honest, forgoing her initial plan to lie to protect your feelings. The men didn't deserve such shielding, they instead deserved to stew in their guilt for eternity.

"I-I don't mean to be dramatic Natty," you sniffled, "But I never forget anyone, why would they forget me? I just want the same in return."

"I understand detka, it's fair to expect," she agreed with a soft tone, "I just want you to know I would never forget, I only didn't text because I was racing home to surprise you."

"I know you would never forget honey, some years it's you who has to remind me," you giggled, and it instantly brought a smile to your lovers face to see you already perking up.

"Well, in the spirit of such a monumental occasion I have ran a tub for you, and set out a new outfit for you to slip into for our plans."

Your head whipped back from its place on her shoulder, face instantly lighting up, "Plans?"

Natasha shook her head with a fond smile, her fingers then raised up to her lips to imitate a zipper and so you whined: "Natty please?"

"Detka, I want it to be exciting, so go get ready and meet me in the garden when you're done."

The two of you stood to your feet, reluctantly moving apart, but before you fully separated your wife pulled you in for a passionate kiss.

"Take your time, and relax your mind Y/N." She pecked your lips a final time, then left.

As you entered your room your heart swelled at the sight of the outfit she'd bought, you'd been eyeing the fit for awhile, and of course she had been watching you just the same. Nothing was ever going to get by your super spy of a wife.

Once you finished your soak, with a new set of body products, you slid out and into the new royal green cropped sweater vest, and skirt. Then after handling your skincare routine you skipped all the way to the garden where you found your wife stood there patiently waiting.

Natasha subtly gulped at the sight of you, and for a moment the both of you remained silent as you looked the other over. She had changed from her casual locker attire into a loose fit black button up polo, with a pair of grey slacks. It was a simple choice, but still deeply alluring as her arms managed to bulge out the stretchy fabric, and her pants were form fitting enough that you could admire her toned behind.

Once you reeled in your devious gaze you were reduced to a woman on the verge of another breakdown. There stood your wife with a bouquet of black roses, and honeysuckles. It had become her goal to pick you meaningful flowers, and the contrast in bright colors meant to symbolize eternal love, intermixed between the more dark, morbid version of the classic rose was for an that leads to a beginning.

In the moment your curiosity was peaked, but you settled on letting the day play out before you sought out clarity. Your wife was cunning, and never moved without a plan, and you were never one to doubt her so you'd easily wait.

Natasha's free hand hung in the air, beckoning you to approach her, and as you accepted she swiftly pulled you into her body. She lowered the bouquet, allowing you the chance to smell the unique combination before she set them in a vase on the center of the decorated table.

“You look gorgeous love.” Natasha blushed, and softly huffed, “That was my line detka.”

As you giggled mischievously into her chest she gave the nervous spider-teen who was lingering on the side of the compound a thumbs up from behind your back. Peter lowered the pink box, and white bags onto the table with his webs, then as previously instructed he vanished.

“He’s just a kid Natty,” you called your wife out as you tried to pull away from her, but she kept your bodies connected with a hand on your lower back, as her lips sought your warmth.

Once satisfied she let you go, eyes admiring the way that yours stayed shut an extra beat, you always took a moment to recover, even when it was just a peck on the lips. You swore you’d never get used to the feeling of hers against yours. It was electrifying, and no matter how brief there was never a lack of love to be found.

Once you shakily breathed out through your nose, and your eyes fluttered open you were met with your wife who was patiently waiting. Natasha pursed her lips, then doubled down. “That’s true Y/N, that’s why I still let him see you, but he also has a phone with a calendar.”

You knew not to push it, because in the end she wasn’t wrong. Instead you thanked the boy via text, and put your phone in dnd, no longer caring about the sudden influx of well wishes, as your greatest one to be was sat before you.

Natasha handed you a sandwich, and then after listening to you animatedly tell her stories of the guy’s stupidity, she reflected back and told you all about Clint’s on their mission. Then as if having the power to summon him, the man was beside you with a candle and a lighter.

“Happy Birthday Y/N/N,” he greeted with a grin and a stubbly kiss to your temple. “The kids made you this,” he passed you a paper with the whole Barton family on it, and right to the side of them was you in Nat’s arms with Liho on your shoulder. Then he passed you an envelope, “And Laura purchased you this.”

While Natasha pulled out a gorgeous cupcake decorated to look like a peony you tore it open.

“Oh my gosh, no way!” You shrieked, “We’re going with them to Disneyland Natty!” She met your enthusiasm with a nervous chuckle, then seamlessly blew passed her anxieties as she lit the solo candle and began to sing. Clint joined her in the celebratory tune, but fortunately for you your wife’s melodic voice carried the tune.

Clint slipped off a moment later, with a to go container of various flower inspired cupcakes, then Natasha guided you to her sports car. It never ceased to make your heart flutter when she naturally moved to buckle you in. There was never a time in your whole entire time knowing her that she didn’t do this. It was actually how you realized she liked you in the way you did her. Because once you actually saw how she unbuckled Tony’s for him in contrast.

“Where are we going?” Natasha shook her head and chuckled softly, “Stop asking baby girl, you know I’m a steel fortress with this stuff.”

You grumbled all the way, until you saw the arcade, with Yelena and Kate grinning outside. Natasha couldn’t contain her laughter as you raced from the car and into her sisters arms. The blonde spun you around, then after you were back on the ground Kate pulled you in.

“Come on Y/N,” Yelena shrieked, “We must play as many games as possible. The final winner gets the crown in Kate Bishop’s hand.

You raced off with a shout of: “Game on!”

“Thanks for coming so last minute, I know you just got home from an undercover mission,” Natasha genuinely said, and the archer turned to her with a tired smile. “It was the least we could do, plus, look at how happy they are.”

Natasha did look, her eyes hardly ever left you to begin with, but in moments like these, where you were in the middle of unbridled joy, she especially wanted to be a spectator. Seeing you and Yelena playing like little kids always made her heart soar, and her mind run with dreams.

Of a future similar to this moment, but with house parties and summer barbecues. It was all she wanted, and she reckoned it was time you two got started on the rest of your journey. So, after about an hour of free fun, where you beat Lena in the final game, reigning you champ she called out to you both to say it was time to go.

“You’re welcome for letting you win,” Yelena angrily said, making you giggle as you realized she most certainly did no such thing. Her eyes narrowed, but a grin soon overtook her face as you yanked her into a goodbye hug. “Thank you for coming out to celebrate my birthday.”

“I will never miss a chance to beat you at air hockey Y/N Romanoff.” Her arms tightened, and she softly whispered: “Happy Birthday.”

“Okay, let’s wife swap now.” Natasha’s tone was playful, but a spark of jealousy was easily detected. “Hold your panties Natalia. Y/N is all yours. Also Kate Bishop is my fiancé, not wife.”

“She’ll be your was with that attitude,” you teased as you shifted to say goodbye to the archer. Who, as was her job, coronated you the ‘Arcade Supreme’ just before slipping you a gift bag then taking off with her grumbling fiancé.

“We’ve got a few more stops detka.” Natasha escorted you back to the car, then the rest of the adventure unfolded as she took you to all of your favorite places. Including the cat cafe where she surprised you with an adoption.

You’d been begging for months to get Liho a girlfriend, but then you ended up getting a male orange tabby, with a missing eye. “He looks kinda like Fury, let’s take him to shield!”

“Detka, I want to live a long life with you,” she teased as you held the cat up. “Stop tempting your fate with the doppelgänger of our boss.”

“At least you agree with me,” you huffed, then set the cat back down before letting your wife take you out of the cafe with the promise of returning in the morning for the little fella.

“You think Liho will mind that his girlfriend is a boy?” You shrugged, smirking around the straw of your frappe. “Love is love Natty.”

It was encroaching evening now, so you’d figured that the night was coming to a close, but when your wife passed the exit for the compound you realized her plan was ongoing.

With the windows rolled down, and your hand interlocked with your wife’s as she drove you across city lined you began to realize the burden of your depressing start had dissipated. The tension in your body melted away, and in a show of direct appreciation you brought her knuckles up to your lips and kissed them.

“What was that for?” You were looking out the window at the vast greenery of New York, but you could hear her smirking and had to fight off the urge to roll your eyes. “Do I need a reason to show you, my dear wife, affection?”

Natasha hummed thoughtfully, “I suppose not, but if you were saying thanks, I’d also like the same gesture deposited upon my lips please.”

Just as much as you were left a total mess after each kiss, she was left with an insatiable need for more. If she had it her way you’d never part. Her lips would be against yours all day, and if not there, at least somewhere on you.

Before you could even consider her proposal the redhead had pulled over abruptly, the blur of greenery was now more clear to you, and a feeling of serenity washed over you at the view.

“Where are we love?”

Your wife was nervous, something she rarely ever felt, and never let anyone see. Today is going to change the trajectory of your life for good, and she just hopes you’re happy with it.

“Home.” You furrowed your brows as you whipped your head around to meet her gaze after processing the word she’d just blurted. Seeing her nervous smile upon doing so made you lose the frown of confusion. A much softer crease overtook your face as you matched her smile as best you could. “What do you mean?”

“Here.” Natasha unbuckled herself, then she hopped out and gently pulled you from the car. “I, well actually, Tony and I have been working together on this for awhile now.” You cut her off with a gasp of genuine surprise, “You and Stark have been working together and he gets to live to tell others about it?” Natasha rolled her eyes, but before she could clarify you gasped again, this time with a horrified look.

“Oh my gosh Natty, did you kill him?” Her face fell into one of pure mortification. “What? No!”

You cast her an unbelieving glance, but then you lost your edge, tone obviously teasing, “Maybe that’s why he didn’t text me today…”

Natasha glared at the notion, and vowed to trip the wires in his suit for such a slight. Then she remembered his hologram that was waiting for you with birthday wishes beyond the hedges.

“Detka, please focus,” she chided, then pulled on your hand until you were just beyond the greenery, and stood before a gorgeous home. The walls were painted a blue tinted grey, with black trimmings, and it was two stories tall.

“This is,” she began, but you cut her off with a squeal, “Our home? Are we finally…” Natasha cut you off next, “Yes, we only have one final mission detka. To settle down for good now.”

“I love you so much Natasha!” She gladly took you into her arms for a hug, then before you could protest she scooped you up like she did on your wedding day, and ran the both of you beyond the threshold of the home. Her lips slammed to yours in the heat of the moment, but the kiss was weak as neither of you could refrain from smiling like idiots. “I love you too Y/N, more than I ever dreamed possible.”

When the night came to a close a few hours later, you heard your phone ding just as your eyes had shut. You begrudgingly peeked an eye back open. "Happy Birthday Y/N/N, I had no service, but I promise you a stack of chocolate chip pancake's when I return on Monday. ❤️"

You smiled, grateful for Wanda's gesture, albeit late it was much better than never at all. All you ever wanted was to have a group of people to love you the same way you'd loved them.

With Natasha pressed into you from behind, an arm wrapped tightly around you as she snored softly you knew without a doubt that you were at the very least loved with reciprocity by her.

—

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x wife!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x you #gxg

[gummydummy19]

Not now (male reader version)

Summary: You and Natasha are major enemies with benefits. You can hardly be in the same room together, let alone an elevator...

Content Warnings: smut (blowjob), angst, fluffy ending (you know me), LANGUAGE!

A/N: This fic is one of my favorites out of everything i've ever written, so I decided to make a male reader version :)) hope you like it! feedback is always welcomed

Word Count: 3.4K+

It had been a long, exhausting day. You weren't even supposed to go on any more missions until next week, but Fury decided to wreck your Friday and send you on your hardest mission yet. Your body ached and you just wanted to crawl into your bed as soon as possible. So when you saw Nat approaching the elevator, you silently prayed the doors would close before she got in. You just couldn't deal with her right now. Not now.

Of course, luck wasn't on your side today. Natasha slipped her slender body in between the doors just as they were about to close, joining you in the space that suddenly felt too small.

She smirked widely when you noticeably rolled your eyes.

"In a hurry?" she asked.

"Just tired." You dryly stated.

"Yeah, I can tell. You look like shit" She teased.

To be quite honest, you were fairly sure Nat hated you way more than you actually hated her, but you weren't about to let her know that.

You and Natasha started this whole enemies-with-benefits thing a while ago, and somewhere along the way, you started finding it harder and harder to keep up the hating game.

Sometimes you just wanted someone to talk to, to watch a movie with, to hold you after you'd a long day like this.

Admittedly, hating each other's guts resulted in some mind-blowing sex. Nat might be an arrogant bitch most of the time, but she was still the best fuck you've ever had, and you didn't wanna throw that away just because you were getting a little needy. So you decided to just suck it up and stick with what you did best, annoying her until she let you fuck her stupid.

And it had been working out just fine, but today you were so exhausted and she looked so good in her big comfy sweater and her tight black yoga pants. She had been growing out her hair lately and it was currently tied up in a messy bun.

You could barely look her in the eye, desperately trying to come up with a snarky response, but your brain failed you as the only thing you could think of was how good it would feel her nails rake through your hair right now.

She frowned, clearly confused and quite frankly annoyed at your lack of attitude.

She let out an annoyed huff and in one quick movement, her hand hit the emergency button, making the elevator halt.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You snapped

"ME? What the hell is wrong with YOU? Did I fuck you stupid last time? What's going on?" She yelled.

Natasha had noticed the change in your behavior lately, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

Her words made a blush creep up your neck and you silently cursed your body for betraying you.

You knew Nat thrived off your attitude. You were the only one who ever questioned her authority, it kept her on her toes.

She took a step closer to you and you immediately took a step back, not knowing if you could do this much longer.

Desperately trying to match her stern energy, you snapped back at her.

"Why the fuck do you even care?? Talk about being fucking cock drunk, Romanoff."

"That's what you'd like, huh, big boy? To get me cock drunk on that big dick of yours?" Natasha inched closer to you as you tried your best to ignore how hard you were getting from her voice alone.

"In your dreams, you fucking bitch" You turned around and hit the button again, making the elevator restart.

You felt her boobs push against your back and all you could do was stare at your shoes and pray to whatever was good and holy that this stupid elevator would just hurry the fuck up already.

Soft hands with perfectly manicured nails crept up the sides of your arms, while her plush lips left teasing kisses on your clothed back. The body heat radiating off her made it hard to think straight.

Gathering all your willpower, you softly shoved your elbow against her side, shaky arm pushing against her torso, trying to get her to move.

"Get off me, Natasha." Your tone almost had her believing you actually didn't want this.

Almost.

"Not until you tell me who shoved a stick up your ass." her voice was soft and teasing, tingling against the shell of your ear as she stood on her tippy toes.

She stopped the elevator for a second time.

"Natasha, I'm serious, cut it out!" You groaned, before pushing the button again.

"So am I?" she continued and her hand moved towards the button yet again.

"Would you stop?! You're acting like a child!" you yelled, trying to get the upper hand as the small metal cage rumbled.

The poor emergency stop must have been hit damn near a dozen times as you and Nat continued your pointless bickering.

Suddenly, the entire elevator shook and came to an abrupt stop, making her cling to your side for balance.

The lights flickered out and the buzzing noise that usually lingered around was gone.

You pushed Natasha off you and desperately tried hitting a couple buttons.

Nothing.

"Look what you fucking did!" you screamed at her.

"Me?" she yelled.

If looks could kill, Natasha Romanoff would be dead on the floor of that elevator right now.

A thick, deafening silence settled in between the two of you, and you let out a breath you didn't know you had been holding. Dropping your gaze to the floor, you let your shoulders hang, rubbing your hands over your face in exhaustion.

You turned around, staring at the buttons.

Fed up and extremely done with this stupid situation, tears started welling in your eyes. Fuck.

The emergency lights had gone on. You checked your phone. Of course there was no reception and it was late already, everyone else had gone to bed on their own floor and there was no way they'd hear you all the way from here.

"Perfect. Just perfect." You muttered.

Fresh out of fucks to give, you finally let the numb feeling you had been trying to push away all day take over your body. You slid down the wall, sitting with your knees drawn up and your fingers tangled in your hair as Nat just stood there and watched.

"Should have taken the fucking stairs," she mumbled.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath.

You were utterly exhausted, every muscle in your body ached. All you wanted was a hot shower and some sleep, and now you were trapped in this stupid elevator and you had to look at Natasha's stupid cranky face all night. Any other day you would have given her her crap right back, but not today. Not now.

Simply lacking the energy to be your usual witty and confident self, you let out an annoyed sigh.

"I'm so fucking tired." You finally muttered. If it wasn't for the deafening silence surrounding you, she probably wouldn't even have heard it.

Making eye contact with her was impossible at this point. And even if you had it in you to look her in the eye right now, the thick tears that started welling blurred your sight.

"Oh great, now he's fucking crying." Nat groaned, more to herself than to you.

You rolled your teary eyes at her typical arrogance. But when she took an awkward step closer, you pointed your finger at her.

"Don't even think about coming near me right now, Romanoff." You warned.

She smirked at the remark, finally catching a glimpse of the snarky man she was secretly so crazy about.

To your surprise, she moved closer and sat down beside you.

You glared down at her.

"You don't have to prete-"

"Oh, shut up." she cut you off as she cuddled closer to your side, dropping her head on your arm.

The smell of her hair brought you a weird sense of peace, which you welcomed nonetheless. There was something about her, about being this close to her. You couldn't put your finger on it, but it melted away your anxiety like snow in the sun.

A comfortable silence settled in between the two of you as you sniffled quietly, wiping away a couple of stray tears that had escaped your eyes.

She sat back up to look at you. You felt her eyes burning against your face but you couldn't bring yourself to return her stare. In all honestly, this was probably the most embarrassing moment of your life.

Clearing your throat, you pulled away from her.

"Alright, thanks," you said, before scooting a few inches to the other side.

As much as you hated to acknowledge it, being away from her even a few inches filled you with a slight cold, empty feeling. And you had to go against every fiber in your body not to scoot closer and ask her to snuggle up against you again.

"You don't always need to be such a tough guy," she spoke, making you scoff

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you."

To your surprise, she didn't say anything after that. She just cuddled closer to you again, clinging to your arm and she nuzzled her face comfortably against your shoulder.

A weird sense of comfort took over your body. That urge you had to be held and taken care of bubbled up again and you let Natasha fill that void. You knew it wasn't real. She didn't want to be here. But she was. And you were going to enjoy her warmth for as long as you could.

The intoxicating smell of his perfume and her body wash mixed with her natural sweet scent invaded your nostrils and made a heat run through you, warming you from the inside out.

You must have dosed off after that, because the next thing you know you felt your body being shoved aside, abruptly waking you from your slumber.

"Finally you guys got here! Her was starting to drool on my shirt." Natasha's arrogant voice spoke to Sam and Bucky, who had apparently found you in the elevator.

You knew it was too good to last. At least now you could go to your room and get some rest. Alone.

You slowly sat up, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you gaped at the three men in front of you. The smell of Nat was still heavy on you. Before any of them could say anything you scrambled out of the elevator. Running through the hallway to your room, wanting nothing more than for this day to just be over with already.

"Hey, wait!" Nat's voice sounded through the hallway as you looked for your keys, rolling your eyes.

"Oh for fucks sake, does she ever take a break?" you mumbled to yourself.

"Looking for these?" she asked, dangling your keys in front of you with a smug look on her face.

You groaned, reaching for the keys only to have them pulled away at the last second. It was quiet between the two of you for a beat, before you lunged for the keys again, failing miserably.

Okay. now you were pissed.

Natasha looked at you with a shit-eating grin.

"Come on, pretty boy." she teased, "come and get them"

Okay. Now you were pissed.

There was no way in hell you were faster than her. You knew it. She knew it. She just wanted to see you try. See you emberrass yourself even further.

And you actually debated it. For a split second, you debated it.

Nope.

Not today, Romanoff.

You were done. Done with this day. Done with these games. Done with her.

You scraped together every ounce of dignity you had left and turned around, walking away from her.

You got halfway through the hall before you heard her chuckle.

"And where are you going now, huh?" she questioned, obviously very amused.

"To sleep in Wanda's room." you simply said, not even bothering to turn around. You didn't need to see her face to know the grin had fallen.

"The hell you are." you heard her say, suddenly way closer to you as you heard her footsteps approach.

Before you could even comprehend what was happening Natasha yanked your arm back and walked you back down the hallway.

“What the-…HEY STOP” you tried to wriggle your arm out of her grasp but your already exhausted body just wouldn’t work with you. And perhaps your needy brain didn’t mind being held by Natasha...

Before you knew it you were being pushed into a room as she slammed the door behind her. You quickly realized you had entered a bedroom, but it wasn’t yours…oh no this was Natasha's room. You could recognize it from the scent alone…

She walked over to the bed and sat down at the foot of it, looking you straight in the eyes.

You stared at her from across the room, arms crossed, trying your best to appear stern despite the fact that the entire room smelled of her and it was making you want to crawl up in a ball on the floor, like a cat waiting to be cuddled.

"come here," she said, voice calm yet commanding.

"Bite me "

"I said come here."

"And I said bite me."

"If you come here then maybe I will."

You rolled your eyes but did as she said.

"Now what?" You asked in the most pissed-off voice you could muster.

Natasha saw right passed your macho behavior, knowing exactly what you needed from her. She grabbed your wrist and pulled you down onto her bed next to her before getting on your lap and wrapping her arms around your neck

"Now you let me make you feel good, sweetheart." her warm breath caressed the shell of your ear, making the hair at the back of your neck stand up as goosebumps started to spread all the way down to your spine.

She slowly pulled off her sweater and you groaned when you realized she wasn't wearing anything underneath, immediately sitting up to suck on her nipples.

A groan tumbled over your lips when her nails raked through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. Your hands touched every inch of flesh they could find, trailing up and down over her back, making her whimper.

Thoroughly enjoying each other's embrace, her impatient fingers moved down your torso and tugged at your shirt. Your lips curled into a smile against her to let her know he got the message. Within the blink of an eye, your shirt was gone and her lips were back on yours, devouring you as if you were her very last meal.

Your hands played with her tits as she started pressing kisses against your neck and down to your chest, pushing you back down on the bed.

"Stay down for me, handsome," she whispered in that low, sultry voice of hers.

She peppered your entire chest with soft, warm kisses, not leaving an inch of your body untouched. You laid back comfortably in her fluffy pillows and you felt your entire body relax. You enjoyed the view of her crawling down your body and unbuckling your belt. Natasha's plump lips moved down to your stomach and started kissing along the trail of hair growing down to your pubic bone as she pulled down your pants and boxers, revealing your growing cock. Her nails trailed over your skin sporadically, leaving goosebumps wherever they touched. Just as you noticed you had begun to smile to yourself, you got pulled from the cloud you were happily floating on by a sharp pain on your hip.

"AH!! Did you just bite me?!"

"'I'm a lady of my word."

Before you could scramble away from her, she licked a ferm stripe up your cock, all the way from your balls to your tip. You let out a low groan that quickly turned into a steam of moans as Natasha started bobbing her head up and down. She wasted no time, hollowing out her cheeks and swirling his soft tongue over your leaking cockhead, absolutely devouring you with all she had.

One of her hands reached down to play with your balls. Gently squeezing the soft flesh blindly while her eyes stayed focused on yours. She moved her hand to yours, guiding it to her head and throwing a wink at you. Your fingers quickly tangled in her hair as you pushed her down a little to take your cock deeper.

"Oh fucckkk...." you moaned, feeling your balls draw up as you got closer and closet to your peak.

Natasha kept sucking you off like her life depended on it as she moved her free hand down between her legs to play with her sopping pussy, messily rubbing her clit she started moaning on your cock. God she loved the taste of you, she simply couldn't get enough, it was making drip.

Both of your moans got louder and your hips started bucking up in her throat. Every square inch of your body was on fire.

Nat took her mouth off you for a second and stroked your spit-covered dick as fast as she could.

"Please, cum for me...m'so close..." she whined, making you realize she's been touching herself while sucking your cock.

"shit....please...gonna cum..." you moaned desperately

"Yeah? Cum down my throat while I cum on my fingers....shit..." she whined before taking you back in her mouth, immediately letting your cock slide deep down her throat as she choked on it.

"Fuck Nat I'm gonna cum!" you yelled, "You're gonna make me cum! You're gonna...I'm gonna...Oh fuck..fuck, please! Don't fucking stop...ah!"

And she didn't, she kept sucking your cock as she touched herself, and when her body started trembling from her own orgasm you finally couldn't take it anymore.

You came down her throat while she came all over her own fingers. You trembled and whined as she gently suckled on your cock, swallowing every last drop of your cum.

You tried to blink away your tears until they finally rolled down your cheeks, you tried to calm down your breathing as you layed there, trembling on her bed.

"What do you need, baby?" Natasha finally spoke, sitting up between your legs and softly stroking your thighs.

It took a while for your breathing to calm down, you didn't even know why you were crying to be honest. You just felt like you were experiencing a lot of emotions at once, and it was pretty intense.

"A fucking hug." you finally spoke.

Nat giggled at your reply before scooting over to sit next to you, leaning against the headboard.

"Come here."

Slowly, you crawled into her open arms, curling up against her into a ball with your head right against her bare tits.

Surprisingly, Natasha was very soft and sweet, not at all what she was usually like with you.

She rubbed your back and just laid there with you, enjoying each other's warmth and the comfortable silence that had settled in the room.

You couldn't help but let out more tears, softly sniffling into her chest as you clung to her.

"shhh" he whispered comfortingly, pressing a few kisses to the top of your head. "It's okay, l'm here. And you did so so good."

For the next few minutes, Natasha just held you, until you were ready to talk to him about what exactly it was that got you so overwhelmed.

After some time, you sat up and just looked at Nat. At her eyes, her nose, her mouth.

You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against her lips.

"Thanks," you said.

"For letting you cum down my throat?" she joked, trying to get rid of some of the tension.

"For the care," you replied, meaning what you said.

She just smiled at you.

You didn't even know what to say. Never in your life have you expected Natasha to be so caring, especially not for you.

"Wanna shower together?" she suggested, leaving you even more stunned.

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Natasha Romanoff?"

At first, she giggled at your reaction, but then her face grew a little more serious.

"I wanna be here for you for more than just fucking. The whole cat and mouse game was fun while it lasted, but seeing you the way I saw you today, so exhausted you could barely stand up straight. I never wanna see you like that again, baby. Unless of course, it's my doing." she added smugly before pressing another kiss to your lips.

"There she is again." you chuckled against her lips.

After some more kisses and giggles, you decided to accept Nat's offer and you took a long hot shower together, followed by some much-deserved cuddles and a movie you never saw the end of because you drifted off, with Natasha happily snuggled against your chest.

#gummydummy19 #fanfiction #fluff #smut #marvel #smutty thoughts #natasha x male reader #natasha romanoff #male reader #male reader fics

[dottores]

SKINNY LOVE | IL DOTTORE

summary: a failed mission sets dottore off, just not in the way you might’ve expected--the doctor cares for no one but himself and his research, not even his own segments, so why was he so incensed at the fact that you were hurt?

warnings: no warnings, really, reader a bit anxious over just failing a mission and a small wound. just some hurt/comfort (??) with dottore. not rlly sure what to label it.

notes: man ik dottore isn't rlly the hurt/comfort man but i think i kept this rlly well in character im lowkey proud i even had tee n eris double check 4 me <3 i wrote this during my breakdown friday adfijaiosdfjia LMAO @tweris @dxlucs @7rkx @mxnjiros @hanmas @albedophoria @tokyometronetwork @manjiroscum @dynalite @niicevibe

wordcount: 1.5k

“You’re upset.”

You looked away at the statement--there was no sort of empathy or worry behind his words, it was a simple observation, a fact, nothing more, nothing less. He barely bothered to look at you as he spoke, engrossed with the vial in his hands. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he didn’t care at all. 

If you didn’t know any better.

He wouldn’t have acknowledged it at all if that were the case.

“I’m not,” you said after a moment, clearing your throat and smoothing your palms over your pants twice before picking at your cuticles, a nervous habit that you couldn’t seem to break. 

“... and now you are lying.”

You grit your teeth together, ignoring Dottore’s words as you became frustrated with one cuticle that would just not peel off. You let out a shaky breath, bringing your finger to your mouth, going to rip it off with your teeth instead, but a hand curled around your wrist before you could--grip firm and unmoving even as you tried to pull your hand away. 

Reluctantly, your gaze drew upward to where Dottore was now standing in front of you, staring down at you unamused and unimpressed. “What happened?” he asked again, and you noticed that he had placed the vial down, averting all of his attention to you as he waited for you to explain. 

And you wanted to explain, you really did, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit that you had failed the one mission that you had been given, not to Dottore. You were already trying to brace yourself for the punishment that would come from Pantalone at your failure. So you kept your mouth shut, turning your face away from him as you waited for him to lose interest and go back to his research.

You should have known better.

You felt two fingers grab your chin, not hard enough to bruise by any means but also not gently. Dottore turned your head back toward him, tilting your face up and forcing you to look at him. You kept your gaze averted but you could feel the way he was searching your face for answers, trying to piece together on his own what happened. Sometimes you really hated how smart he was. 

“Your mission went poorly,” Dottore finally spoke up--it was a statement but also a question, he was waiting for your reaction to see if he had deduced it correctly. And you couldn’t help the way your throat spasmed as you tried to swallow back the sob--you had never been one to handle failure well, ever since you were a kid. “I see.”

Dottore let go of your face and you snapped your head to the side, turning away as you tried to blink back the tears that were building too rapidly for you to control. He didn’t speak again as he moved back to his lab table, picking the vial back up and watching it absently before placing it on a burner. 

“What happened?” he questioned as he put away some of his tools, walking to the other side of the room where he had several other vials displayed.

Breathe in, breathe out.

“Pantalone sent me to the Natlan border--to Apavny--to pick up some materials for Sandrone. It was, um, supposed to be a simple mission, not even leaving the homeland-” your voice cracked, your hand went to your side as pain shot through your abdomen at the reminder. You noticed how Dottore was now looking at you sharply from the corner of his eye, waiting for you to continue--you tried to hide the way you were holding your side, “Natlan has been getting more aggressive, we knew that, I just didn’t think-”

“They attacked you,” there was an odd tone to his voice, tight and unfriendly, as he placed the final vial back in the burner and turned to look at you. You weren’t sure you had ever heard him take a tone other than the low drawl he usually spoke in. 

“They got the materials-” you tried to continue, confirming his suspicions that you had failed the mission, but apparently that hadn’t been what he was leading to.

“You’re hurt.”

You faltered as you forced yourself to look back up at him, catching the way his jaw was taut and the way his eyes were trained solely on you, waiting for you to speak but you weren’t sure what he wanted you to say. Instead, you only shook your head.

“It’s only a flesh wound,” you said quietly. “It’ll be-”

Your voice hung off when you noticed the livid expression that had crossed Dottore’s face, it was only for half a second but you had caught it and you couldn’t help the way you hesitated. He was angry? But why?

Dottore didn’t speak again, returning his attention to the lab table, and you noted that instead of moving to continue his research, he was now putting the vials and materials away. His movements were still as smooth and graceful as usual, but each time he shut one of his drawers, it was a bit harder than necessary, the bang nearly making you flinch.

Was he mad at you? You couldn’t tell and any question you might’ve had to ask him died on the tip of your tongue as soon as you opened your mouth to ask him. The moments he spent putting away his tools and materials were long and agonizing, an anxiety building in you that you had never felt before. Dottore wouldn’t hurt you, you knew that--he might not care for anybody but himself but he had always favored you the most of everyone within the Fatui, even above the other Harbingers and his own segments.

What if your failure ruined it? The disappointment enough reason for him to cast you aside? You had never understood why he favored you, you figured it was because he saw potential in you and now, with your failure, you-

You hadn’t even realized he had come to stand in front of you, lifting one hand to your jaw again to tilt your face up toward his. Your cheeks were wet, you hadn’t even realized you were crying and Dottore hated weakness, any sign or mention of it had him mocking and cruel. “I’m sor-” you tried to say, voice cracking despite your strongest attempts to keep it steady.

“You said this happened in Apavny?” he asked, voice low and quiet and tense, but the grip he had on your jaw was gentle this time--he was never gentle with you, not while he was training you, now while he was trying to teach you about his research, he was always cold and sharp and unforgiving.

You nodded as best you could with the grip on his jaw. 

“You did the best you could,” he said after a moment. “I’ll take care of it from here.”

You were at a loss for words as you stared up at him but Dottore didn’t linger. His hand dropped from your face, the cold expression returning as he turned to grab his cloak from where it was hanging several feet away, shrugging it on before fastening his mask on. 

“Dottore, they’re probably long gone,” you tried to tell him, taking a few steps toward him but you froze when he turned his head over his shoulder to look at you--you couldn’t see his eyes from behind his mask and it had always unnerved you because you could never how he was feeling.

He didn’t even bother to respond to you, pushing the doors to the lab open and leaving without another word, leaving you standing there reeling, trying to figure out what had just happened.

---

Hours later, he returned, blood still splattered on his cloak and face, the box of materials you had failed to retrieve snug in his arms. His lips were tight and flat, and his eyes were still covered by the mask, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. 

He didn’t speak as he pushed the box into your own arms, not until he had already passed by you. “Bring it to Pantalone, tell him you retrieved it.”

Your mouth was dry as you stared down at the box, confused and trying to push away the rising emotions. You spun around to look at him but he didn’t even bother to look back as he walked back down the hall toward his lab.

“Dottore,” you called, watching as he paused midstep, waiting for you to continue. “Why?”

He didn’t answer, and you supposed you should have expected that. Instead, he waited for a moment before continuing down the hall, leaving your question hanging heavy in the air between the two of you as you stared down at the box with an oddly warm feeling in your chest, wondering what this all meant.

#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #dottore fluff #genshin fluff #idk if its fluff #i don’t think so #wtv #i tried my best idk how to tag

[just-jordie-things]

[part one] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 4.3k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them.  the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great.  keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist

[part one] : "Cigarettes And Other Things That Kill You" ___

Toji Fushiguro had children.

(y/n) tapped her fingers on her thigh in a steady motion, staring out the window in her dorm at nothing in particular.  She had been doing homework, an assignment that was due first thing Monday morning.  

He was a monster.  And he had children.

But it was Friday afternoon, and all that occupied her mind was her near- encounter with the Sorcerer Killer.

The mission had failed, but somehow another viable vessel had been brought to Tengen, and the merger had been completed.  This provided no comfort to (y/n), knowing that Riko’s death had been for nothing.  

She’d barely spoken to Satoru and Suguru since they’d returned to the school.  She wasn’t sure who was avoiding who, but she knew it was smart to keep her distance until they came to her.  Besides, she was still trying to figure out how to conceal what she’d been up to the past three days.

But it was only because she couldn’t be sure that the man she’d seen was Toji.  She didn’t know what he looked like, and since she hadn’t even spoken to him, she had nothing close to proof that it was him.  At least, that’s what she told herself when she told her friends that she followed a dead lead.  After three days the man she’d been closely following seemed to vanish into thin air, leaving her to feel useless.

At the end of it all, all she’d really done was follow an assassin- whether it was Toji or not- who had a vendetta against Tengen’s merger, and who had children he’d only mentioned once, and briefly.

If it wasn’t Toji, is this where her involvement ends?

Her eyes re-reads the prompt on her homework for what seemed like the hundredth time, but still, her brain wasn’t processing a single word on the page.

Would she be able to live with herself if she gave up on her suspicions now?

Her door swinging open jolted her from her thoughts, her posture straightening as she assessed the intruder.

But just as quickly, (y/n) smiles, as she watches Shoko Ieri invite herself in.  She shuts the door behind her and plops down onto (y/n’s) bed as if it were a shared space.  (y/n) turns in her desk chair, ignoring her long abandoned homework to entertain whatever reason Shoko had for barging in without notice.  She was still adorned in her white lab coat, so she must have just gotten off of a shift at the morgue

“What have you been stewing about in here, hm?”

She wasn’t expecting that.

“I’m not stewing,” She replied calmly.  “I’m doing homework”

Shoko scoffs.

“Alright.  Sure,” She says, unconvinced.  “Is this cause of last week’s assignment?”

(y/n) doesn’t say anything.  Instead, she turns her back to her friend to go back to her work.

“We can talk about it,” Shoko continues.  A cold shoulder never did stop her.  “We should talk about it,” She corrects.  “You were gone for days, (y/n)”

(y/n) lowers her head, a bit ashamed for worrying her friend so greatly.  Shoko had already been nervous about her taking on the assignment alone.  The least she could have done was send a few texts to let her know she was safe.

“Satoru told me that they didn’t even know you were going”

“He’s right, for once” (y/n) replied, but didn’t give her any more information.

“But… you knew that they’d be there?” Shoko continues.

There’s a pause of silence.

“Yes,” (y/n) replies, letting out a short sigh.  “Yaga wanted me to practice my technique on the field.  I didn’t get the chance.  They got to Riko before I could, and that was that.  Turns out, it was all a waste”

Her last comment comes off her tongue with bitterness.

Giving up on getting her homework done early, (y/n) tucks it away into a folder, and turns back around to face her friend again.

“I’m sorry,” Shoko says with a frown.  “That probably was a good time for you to take a crack at it, huh?”

“Yeah,” (y/n) sighs.  “But something else will come up”

Shoko nods in agreement, and gives her a small smile.

Good, (y/n) thinks to herself.  She thinks I’m disappointed about how the assignment went, and that’s not even a lie.  Everyone is disappointed.

She didn’t mind lying to Satoru.  But she doesn’t think she has the ability to lie to Shoko.  It wouldn’t feel right.

“Want to go for a smoke?” Shoko asks, revealing with a grin the real reason why she dropped in.

She presents a pack of cigarettes that she’d kept hidden in the pocket of her jacket.

(y/n’s) grin is enough of an answer for the girl to spring up from the bed and take (y/n’s) arm as they head out of her dorm. ___

(y/n) never thought she’d be one to partake in a nicotine addiction, but she’d found that sitting on the rooftop of the dormitory building and sharing a cigarette with her best friend was therapeutic enough that it was worth it.

“So how did the mission go anyways?” Shoko asked, leaning back against the tile on her elbows to better enjoy the beginning of the sunset.  “Suguru was too stressed to talk about it,when he came by, and Satoru was too tired.  I think he might have been dodging me, though.  What happened there?”

“I don’t know much either,” (y/n) replied. “I haven’t seen either of them since they got back,” With a deep breath, she decides to give Shoko a little more honesty.  “But… I haven’t exactly been trying to see them” She admits.

Shoko chuckled, taking a drag from the cigarette in her fingers before passing it over.

“Too worried to see how beat up they are?” She muses.  “Or are you more worried about them chewing your ear off for disappearing on them?”

“Tch,” (y/n) shakes her head as she takes the cigarette.  “They don’t need anyone worried about them,” She says.  “And they’re not my parents.  They can scold me all they want.  I don’t care”

Shoko quietly laughs to herself, amused with her response.  It was just like (y/n) to brush off any concern that anyone felt for her, not thinking twice about the danger she was in.  As long as she came home safe, Shoko didn’t mind.  But even she had to admit that three days of nearly no-contact was too much for her mental health.

“You know Satoru was worried,” She says, changing the focus of the subject.  “But you wouldn’t want him thinking you care about him or anything”

“It’s not that I don’t care about him,” (y/n) says, blowing smoke out of her lungs.  “I do.  But he doesn’t need me to.  He can handle himself just fine.  And so can I”

Shoko is quiet for a minute, thinking over her words carefully as she admires the soft oranges of the sky.  (y/n) always did have an odd friendship with Gojo.  She wasn’t sure why, because the pair got along pretty well.  It was like she told herself that Gojo didn’t need friends, so she didn’t put herself out there anymore than she had to.  Shoko didn’t question it often, because at the end of the day it didn’t put too much strain on the group’s dynamic.  But sometimes she wondered why it was (y/n) kept him at arm’s length.

Tonight, she decided to leave it be.  There were better things to discuss.

“We’re third years now,” She hums thoughtfully.  “Soon we’ll have to decide what to do with our lives”

(y/n) nods, her eyes distant as she passes the cigarette back.

“You say that like you don’t know what you’re going to do” She comments.

Shoko shrugs, and then takes a drag.

“Maybe I don’t,” She admits.  “A year is a long time.  Things can change.  My mind can change”

“My mind’s made up,” (y/n) says decidedly.  “Nothing could keep me from being a professional sorcerer”

Her mind wanders to the voice that had been rambling in the back of her head, pushing her to investigate further, dig deeper, something is off about that man you followed, and you know it.

“That’s because you were born with a gift to be a professional sorcerer,” Shoko says, drawing (y/n) out of her spiraling thoughts.  Her tone isn't as bitter as her words make her sound.  It’s endearing.  She admires that (y/n) knows exactly what she wants in her life.  “Some of us aren’t so lucky”

(y/n) looks over at her friend, trying to make out her expression.  But Shoko was a master at keeping a blank face, it’s where (y/n) learned it from, after all.  Despite this, even she couldn’t penetrate her mind.

“You can stay with me,” She jokes, leaning back on the roof with her hands tucked under her head.  “I’ll be the best.  And I’ll support both of us”

Shoko chuckles to herself at the idea, peeking over at (y/n) from the corner of her eye.

“You’re such a smartass,” She mutters lovingly.  “You sound more like Satoru every day”

“Take that back” (y/n) remarks.

Shoko laughs again, facing forward to enjoy the view again.

“Really though,” Her tone turns serious again.  “What would you do if we weren’t sorcerers? If you were born a non-curse user?”

(y/n) blinks, her mind drawing a blank.  She’d never thought about what her life would look like if she wasn’t born with the ability to see curses.  Would it be easier? Or would the stressors of the mundane world flood her life just the same?

“I don’t know,” She answers honestly.  “I’ve never thought about it before,”

She tries to come up with an answer, even a simple one, like being a lawyer, or a teacher.  But nothing sounds right.  If she wasn’t doing everything in her power to protect people, then she’s not sure what her purpose would be.

“But even regular people need someone to operate a funeral home.  Or a hospital.  You could still find a decent profession out there, make good money,”

She looks over at Shoko, hoping her deflection wasn’t too noticeable.   The brunette was still staring at the sky.

“If that’s what you wanted” (y/n) finishes quietly.

“I dunno,” Shoko shrugs.  “I wonder if I’d have a husband”

“Of course you would!” (y/n) says, beaming brightly.  “You’d have a line of men offering you proposals.  I bet it’d take weeks to sift through them all”

Shoko laughs at the confidence she had in her, and at the image of so many men begging for her hand.

“What about you, then?” She asks, an eyebrow raised in amusement.  “You gonna settle down after all this?”

“Of course not,” (y/n) shakes her head, letting out a scoff at the mere thought of having a husband.  “I’ll never have the time.  And I’d never put the prospect of marriage come before exorcizing curses”

Figured, Shoko thinks, shaking her head.

“But what if he comes to you first?” Shoko asks.

“He who?”

“Your husband!” She laughs.  “What if he finds you first? Ya’know, falls in love, dotes on you hand and foot… what if he proposes it first?”

“Well, I’ll never put myself in such a situation then,” (y/n) shrugs.  “It’s not like it’s hard.  I’ll be busy with work anyways”

“Right, right” Shoko mumbles as she nods in agreement.

They sit in a comfortable silence together while the sun sets before them. ___

Days passed, until it had been a week to the day that Riko Amanai had been murdered before she could merge with Tengen.  

And the more she’d thought about the man she presumed to be Toji Fushiguro, the more (y/n) thought about his children.

There was no way she could get involved, not without anyone noticing.  But she knew that whatever these kids’ situation was, it wasn’t a good one.  Their father seemed like a violent deadbeat that had no care for them, and whoever their mother was, she could only assume couldn’t be any better.

Where were they? And wherever they were, were they left alone? Were they safe? Were they curse users? Did they go to school?

There was no way that she could get involved.

But still she found herself sneaking quietly through the halls of the dormitory at midnight, a binder of records open in her arms as she flipped quickly through the pages under Z.

School records weren’t bound to get her far, but it was a good start to figuring out how to find this Toji Fushiguro, and hopefully his children.

“What’re you doing up this late?”

She jumped, not having heard Satoru before he spoke, and there he was in front of her.

“Satoru” She gasps, surprised to see him standing there.

She hadn’t seen him since that day in the streets of Tokyo.  He looked… different.  Thinner, maybe paler, too.  Maybe a stranger wouldn’t notice, seeing as his demeanor was ever the same, but (y/n) had spent enough time around him to know when something was eating at him.

He looked from her, to the large book in her hands.

“What, you reading the fuckin’ bible?” He asks, reaching for the book to see what it was.  

(y/n) held it closer to her chest.

He raised a brow at her defensive action.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” She says matter-of-factly, “But I couldn’t sleep.  Homework helps me sleep”

“That’s for your homework?” He asks in disbelief.

(y/n) nods, swallowing thickly.  The longer he stares at her, the harder she finds it to keep her composure.  She supposed he had that effect sometimes, on all people.  He could be intimidating when he wanted to be.

“Whatever,” He mumbles with a shake of his head, no longer caring about whatever it was she was up to that was clearly not homework.  “Look I wanted to apologize for the mission with Riko”

Apologize? She wondered, trying to quickly dissect what his ploy was here.  Surely he was going to interrogate her for disappearing on him, right?

“You?” (y/n) scoffs.  “Apologize?”

“Yeah yeah,” He waves a dismissive hand at her attitude.  “Suguru said something about me being overbearing, or something.  So.  Sorry if I was”

(y/n) blinks, trying to figure out what it was that made him bring this up to her now.  Sure, he had been overbearing, but he always was, and this particular time, she sort of deserved it.  However, he was always texting her to figure out where she was, sticking his nose in her business was second nature to him, and he’d never apologized for it.  She’d grown pretty used to it by now.

“Well, you’re forgiven,” She says.  “Not like I was able to accomplish what I needed to anyways” She adds in a smaller voice.

“Yeah,” Satoru agrees in a small voice.  His head lowers for a moment, as though he suddenly needed to study the floor.  “Look…” He speaks after a few seconds of silence.  “I wanted to ask… what were you doing there in the first place?”

It’s not the question she’s expecting, but (y/n) hesitates on telling him why Yaga wanted her there.  She’s not sure why, but it made her feel a bit embarrassed to admit to someone like him.  He’s the most powerful person in the whole world.  Surely he wouldn’t understand her struggle with her cursed technique.

She wished they could just forget the last week, and go back to normal.

She understands why they can’t.

“Yaga just wanted me to practice some stuff on the field,” She finally admits.  “Thought it might be good for me, in the heat of the moment, or something”

“Oh.  Well don’t worry about that so much.  You’ll get it soon enough,” He speaks so casually that her eyes dart up to his, hidden behind his dark sunglasses.  “You’ll master it in a heartbeat.  That was kind of a crazy assignment to send you on to do that,”

Her face feels warm at the thought of him believing in her so much.

“But look, you don’t need to go missing for days for that shit, okay?” His words are harsh, and she finds herself nodding her head rapidly, hoping if she accepted his scolding, he’d move on from the whole thing.

“Yeah, I know” She mumbles back.

(y/n) hopes that it’s dark enough in the hall to cover the blush that was certainly covering her cheeks.  She hated that he made her feel like such a child.

“We actually ran into the sorcerer killer,”

Her eyes went wider than a deer’s caught in headlights.  A million questions race through her mind, but he’s speaking before she can find her voice to ask any of them.

“It got messy.  Glad you weren’t around to see it all.  That guy’s… a dick”

“R-really?” She stammered.  “What was he like?” It’s all she can think to ask at the moment, too nervous to overstep and raise suspicion.

“A dick,” Gojo  repeated with a scoff.  “He put up a fight, but not good enough to beat me” He added proudly.

His hand rubs at his throat absentmindedly.

(y/n) tried to smile at his abundance of confidence, but she could feel her lips wavering at the fake expression.

“Do you…” She trails off, clutching her binder tighter in her hands.  “Do you want to get something to eat? A snack might help me go back to bed”

A small smile graces his face, before he nods, and turns to lead the way down the hall.

___

(y/n) knows it’s not right to pry like this.

As Satoru recalls the events of his run-in with Toji Fushiguro, she feels her stomach twisting into knots.  Tighter and tighter with every word.  He’s left his sunglasses on the top of his head, and having his eyes exposed to her only makes her feel sicker.

Had he stabbed him with the blade I saw him carrying? She wondered, her eyes staring at the place on his throat where he’d shown her the man had sliced clean through.  If I had approached him that day, could I have stopped this?

She’s quickly losing confidence in her abilities, both as a sorcerer and a decent person.  She couldn’t even follow a lead to the end, and as a result Satoru had been hurt, Geto had been hurt, and the Star Plasma Vessel had been killed.

Rage boils hot in her veins as she clenches her fists.

“(y/n),” Satoru calls, having noticed her fixed gaze for some time now.

She hadn’t torn her eyes off of his neck since he had told her about it.

Her eyes snap to his as he says her name.

“I’m alright, you know” He tells her gently.

She swallows thickly, and wills her heart to slow it’s rapid beating.

“I know,” She states, putting up a front before he could be any more genuine.  “You’re you”

He knows she’s deflecting, but his lips quirk up at the comment anyways.

“That’s right,” He hums.  “You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about him”

(y/n) fights to keep her eyes on his, and not let them wander back to the spot on his throat.  She knows that if she showed her worry, it would make him worry.  That’s just who Satoru was.  He wanted everyone around him to be at ease at all times.  He was the strongest after all, it was only natural for him to want the people closest to him to feel safe, to feel protected.  He might not have voiced this, but (y/n) just knew.

My fault, my fault, my fault.  The cruel voice in her head rears it’s ugly head.  He got hurt because of me.  Because I wasn’t capable of approaching Toji, because I wasn’t confident in my abilities, again.  I did this.

Unease and regret claws its way up her throat, leaving her mouth with a bitter taste.  The guilt of this whole thing was going to eat her alive.  And there was only one thing she could do to make it right.

Kill Toji Fushiguro.

“Besides, he’s dead now anyways”

Her demeanor shifts so quickly she pales before him, her glazed over eyes suddenly fixated on him again.

“What?”

The word comes out small, shocked.  Her brows stitch together as she tries to piece together what that means for her now, while still remaining composed before the nosy sorcerer in front of her.

“He died,” Satoru repeats.  “I killed him”

Normally he’d sound proud, but at this moment, he’s simply being honest with her.  Recalling last week’s events as though recalling the weather.

(y/n’s) mouth goes dry.  Quickly, she turns her back to him, reaching for a glass in the cabinet behind her to fill with water.  She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t know what to say.  All she can do is succumb to her thoughts.

What of his children?

Her hands are shaking.  She sets down her glass of water to hold them to her chest, keeping them from Satoru’s view.

Everything that happened last week, every step she took and every mistake she made,

She latches her trembling hands together, squeezing them so tight they pale.  She wills them to relax, so that she can turn around and stop hiding herself while right in front of him.

It was all for nothing.  Riko was dead.  Satoru was hurt.  Suguru was hurt.  Toji was dead, the mystery of his children now a tragedy.  And she could have prevented it all.  Had she just gone after him-!

“Hey,”

A gentle hand lays on her back, and she closes her eyes tight, hoping that he would just give her one more minute to collect herself.  All she needed was one minute, and she could present herself to him again, unfazed.

“(y/n), look at me” Satoru’s hand takes a hold of her shoulder, making her turn around.

There’s tears in her eyes, and her hands continue to ruthlessly shake against her chest, before she covers her face, wiping away the wetness in her eyes roughly.

“Sorry- I’m sorry,” She sputters, shaking her head once she’s sure she’s stopped the tears from falling from her eyes.  “I just- I can’t help but feel like it was all my fault,”

Satoru’s eyes widened at the admission.

“I wasn’t able to help at all, and then you got hurt and-”

“Woah, hey,” He cut her off before she could continue, seeing how hard she was beating herself up.  “That’s not fair, that’s not what happened,” He tells her, both of his hands wrapping around her shoulders firmly.  His eyes didn’t leave hers once, so that she knew he was being serious.  “You didn’t cause any of this,” He says.  “You didn’t do anything wrong.  And we’re all okay,”

Her brows drew together, knowing that she didn’t believe him, because he didn’t know that she could have protected him.  She feels like her heart is being set ablaze.

“We’re okay,” He repeats, eyes wandering her worried features.

Satoru’s not sure he could recall the last time he’d seen (y/n) so worked up.  He suddenly feels guilty for telling her everything that happened, as clearly it made her uneasy.  But he hadn’t known she would react so emotionally- especially when he was okay and alive before her.  The traumatic experience was over, and as awful as last week was, everyone had come out of it unscathed.  Physically, at least.

A part of him is surprised she’s this worried about him, that she’s reduced to trembling hands and teary eyes.  His heart sinks as his hand raises to her jaw, cupping her face with a featherlight touch.

Gojo Satoru was a loud mouth who loved to use pet names and flirt to no end, but he’d never been physically affectionate with her before, and the feeling of his warm hand against her face has her resolve crumbling.  Just a little bit.

“What’re you so worried about, (y/n/n)?” His voice is low as his eyes search hers for some sort of answer.  “Did something happen?”

Yes! She wants to shout.  She wants to cry and fall into his arms and beg for his forgiveness.  It’s my fault! It’s all my fault, and you’re treating me too well.  You’re being too nice when because of my mistake, you could be dead.  I could have killed you.

Her eyes shut for a moment, taking in a deep breath, and trying once and for all to collect herself.

If she told him about Toji now, he would never allow her to find his children.  Surely he wouldn’t trust them.  He’d likely tell her to leave them be, let them be sold back to the Zen’in Clan or thrown into the system.

But she couldn’t let that happen.

She needed to keep them in mind first.

With her decision made, her eyes flutter open again.  Her fingers wrap around his wrist, and she carefully pulls his hand away from her face.

“No,” She finally answers.  “Nothing happened”

As genuine as she sounded, and as firm as her eyes were on his, something tells Satoru she’s not being honest with him.  But he doesn’t raise his disbelief.  He could get to the bottom of that another time.

So he nods, and gives her a small smile.

“Okay,” He hums.  “Good.  I don’t want you to worry yourself with all this”

She nods back at him, eyes briefly flickering to his throat.

If I can’t kill Toji Fushiguro I’ll do the next best thing I can.

No matter how long it takes, I’ll make things right.

___

taglist: @whats-humanity-lol @malinq-ashida @mor-pheus @bekahtaylorgriggs @pookiea @megumimind​ @thealchemical @pearlstiare​ @niallerhere​ (if you want to be tagged the quickest way for me to see would be messaging me!! dm or inbox)

xoxo - jordie <3

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru fanfiction #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo imagine #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo #gojo x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Home (Is Wherever I'm With You)

Summary: You aren’t supposed to be in California for another week, but managed to tie up all your loose ends and arrive early. You get some unwanted attention when you try to surprise your husband at his favorite bar, and after he comes to your rescue, Bradley shows you just how much he missed you right there in the Hard Deck bathroom. 

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: unwanted flirting and advancements from men, language, fluff, smut. 

Word Count: 3.7K

Notes: In Part 7 of RYEWID, Bradley remembers how he and Pumpkin have hooked up in the Hard Deck bathroom before. Here’s the first time that happened.

Part of The Forgotten Moments collection I have going for them, though this can be read completely independently and still make sense. 

_____

You weren’t supposed to be in California for another week. The Navy hadn’t given Bradley much time at all before he was to report for permanent assignment at Top Gun. He had helped you as much as he could, but packing up and arranging for all of your belongings to be shipped across the country fell mostly on you. You didn’t mind; you had more loose ends to tie up than he did, anyway. But what you thought would take three weeks you managed to get done in two, and instead of telling your husband you’d be arriving early, you decided to surprise him. You weren’t quite sure how you managed to pull it off, but you did. 

It was a Friday evening and you knew he’d be coming to the Hard Deck. Nat was the only one in on your plans and had confirmed when you texted her earlier after your flight landed. You were nearly buzzing with excitement. You had only been married for four months, and between the deployment he was on prior to being called back to Top Gun and the mission that resulted in a permanent station here, you had barely seen each other for half of it. You couldn’t wait to be back in his arms. 

You sipped on your beer, perched on a stool at one of the high top tables near the bar that had a good view of the front door, but was far enough away that he wouldn’t spot you right away if he looked in this direction. You were so focused on looking for your husband that you failed to notice the man approaching until he was standing right in front of you, effectively blocking your view of the door. You startled slightly at the sudden appearance.

He was tall, blonde, and perhaps a little too pretty. He had a smirk on his face that you were sure was meant to be dazzling. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing sitting by herself?” 

There was a hint of a southern drawl in his voice that you were sure charmed women on a daily basis, but only made you raise your eyebrows. “Enjoying my drink.” 

“All alone?” he asked, “I bet it would taste better with someone here to keep you company.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the line, but you shook your head and held up your left hand without a word. Your rings sparkled from their spot snug on your finger. 

“Damn,” he sighed, his smirk falling slightly but never leaving. He put his hands up in mock surrender. “You can’t blame me for trying, right?” 

“Thank you, I think?” you laughed. 

“Definitely a compliment.” 

The blonde stranger winked at you, but to his credit, he didn’t push it any further. He bid you a good night and made his way over to the bar, presumingly ordering himself a drink. You watched him converse with another guy there for a moment, who cast a look at you, but you didn’t pay it any mind as your eyes turned back to the door. In the short time you had been distracted a large crowd had come in and you scanned the room for Bradley again. You bit your lip when you couldn’t find him anywhere, deflating slightly. You were so, so ready to see him. 

You were reaching for your phone to text a simple “where are you guys?” to Natasha when you were interrupted again. This time it’s from the darker haired man who the blonde from earlier had talked to at the bar. You glanced over quickly to see him shaking his head as he walked back toward the crowded pool tables. 

“Hi,” the newcomer said with a bright smile, leaning against the small round table. The stool you were sitting on had you just about even with his height. 

“Hello,” you responded, trying your best to be polite. “Didn’t your friend tell you I’m married?”

He looked momentarily surprised by your bluntness but recovered quickly, laughing lightly. “He did. But I see a ring, not a husband. Thought it might be worth shooting my shot anyway.”

“No,” you said with a forced smile, “it’s not. I’m actually waiting here for him, so.”

To your annoyance, he didn’t seem the slightest bit dettered. “Well how about I keep you company while you wait? My name is Neil.” 

“I’m good on my own, actually. He should be here any minute.” 

“Come on. At least give me your name.” He goes so far as to set his hand over yours on the table. You pulled it back quickly, feeling yourself getting angry at his persistence. You opened your mouth to tell him off, no longer interested in being polite, when you caught a flash of Hawaiian print in your peripheral vision. You gasped in surprised delight at the sight of your husband. You scrambled off the chair, pushing past the unwelcome suitor without a second thought as you raced to close the short remaining distance between the two of you. 

“Bradley!”

You launched yourself into his arms and he caught you easily, holding you tightly against him. You relished the feeling of being in his embrace again, laughing happily into his neck when he lifted you off the ground and spun you around. You only pulled back far enough to press your lips against his. He kissed you back eagerly, setting you down so he could cup your cheek with one hand, the other still firmly on your lower back, pressing your body into his. 

“Pumpkin,” he rasped, “what are you doing here, sweetheart?”

His voice sent shivers down your spine, even as you beamed against his lips. “I wanted to surprise you.”

He hums, kissing you again. He tastes just the same and you chase it, wanting to refamiliarize yourself with it all over again. His body is warm against yours and the anxiety you had felt the last few weeks finally settled inside you. 

“I missed you,” he murmured, nudging your nose with his and causing another giggle to escape. 

“I missed you too, baby.”

You were grinning broadly when you pulled away, and Bradley was too, until his eyes strayed behind you. You watched them narrow and he stood a little straighter, his hand falling from your face. You looked over your shoulder; you had completely forgotten about the man standing by your table. He was still there, looking gobsmacked as he stared at your husband. 

You resisted the urge to comment on how you had told him he would be there any minute. Instead you looked back up at Bradley. He had an intense look on his face, one you had only seen a few times before. Despite yourself, you shivered lightly. 

“You trying to hit on my wife, Omaha?” 

Your eyebrows raised at the name. It wasn’t as familiar to you as others, but it was one you had heard before nonetheless. Another Top Gun graduate who had been called back and then restationed. 

“I…didn’t know she was your wife,” he stuttered. 

“But you knew she was married.”

The other aviator looked a little panicked now, his eyes widening even further. “Rooster, I swear, if I would have known-“

“It doesn’t matter whose wife she is. If she tells you she’s married or not interested, you take that as your cue to leave.” 

Omaha looked like he was contemplating saying something, but instead, he gave a single nod. He met your eyes briefly, offering a quick apology under his breath. You felt Bradley’s grip on you tighten when he walked around you, even if he made a point to not get close. 

You looked up at him when Omaha was gone. His jaw ticked in annoyance, but when you settled a hand over his heart and murmured his name, you could feel how his body relaxed. He met your eyes again. He opened his mouth, you were sure to apologize for something he had no reason to be sorry for, so you cut him off with another kiss. The last of the tension left him and he wrapped both arms around you. 

You stand there with him for a long moment, kissing and enjoying his body against yours. You never felt as good as you did when you were with him, especially when you were in his arms. 

When you finally pulled away, you were both a little breathless, but the soft smile that was always just for you was back on his face. 

“Come on,” he said, “let me introduce you to everyone.” 

“That sounds great,” you said back, grabbing your abandoned purse and drink from where you had left them at your table. You raised up on your toes and pressed another kiss to his cheek. You speak directly into his ear, enjoying the tremor that went through him this time.  “The quicker you introduce me, the quicker you can take me to bed.” 

You smacked his ass playfully as you skipped ahead of him. You laughed when you heard his exaggerated groan. He caught up with you quickly, grabbing your hand in his. He leaned down to whisper, “Since when do we need a bed, Pumpkin?” 

You gasped and he smirked, tugging you forward to the group who had been eyeing you curiously. 

Phoenix is the first to greet you, wrapping you in a quick hug. You hadn’t seen her in over a month, and you were so glad you would have her here permanently, too. He introduced you to everyone gathered around the pool table, and it’s nice finally putting names to faces. When you get to the last person, you can’t help but snort at the familiar face. 

“I think you already met Hangman,” Bradley introduced him with a roll of his eyes. The man in question didn’t look the least bit ashamed, smirking as he held out his hand to you. Instead of shaking it like everyone else had done, he brought it to his lips and kissed your knuckles. You laughed at the sheer audacity he had, but you could tell he was harmless. From what you know of him from the stories you’ve heard lately, it was purely a move to get under your husband’s skin. You heard the man in question let out an annoyed huff and knew it was working, too. 

“Pleasure to formally meet you. If I would have known Rooster was the bird in question who put that ring on your finger, I would have introduced myself sooner.” 

“Instead you came over here and complained about the bombshell at the bar being married,” your husband muttered, pulling you tighter into his side. 

“Got your attention that someone else didn’t care about that little fact though, didn’t I?” Hangman quipped back. Bradley rolled his eyes again, but tipped the beer he had been handed in his direction anyway. You giggled at the interaction, prompting him to look down at you. You stood on your toes to kiss his mouth before turning back to the group with a smile. 

“So,” you said, “who has good stories about my husband that he’d never tell me himself?” 

Bradley groaned as the others laughed, and it wasn’t long before you were drawn into conversation with the people you knew he considered his friends, whether he’d admit it or not. You already felt more comfortable with them than you had any of the coworkers of his that you had met in DC, which made some of your nerves dissipate. As you were regaled with story after story, some more embarrassing than others, Bradley was a constant presence at your back. You relished being able to lean back into his chest after weeks of not being able to do so. His hands settled on your hips, toying with the waistband of your skirt. It was one of his favorites and you had put it on with that in mind. 

You spent close to an hour swapping stories and getting to know everyone. They seemed genuinely interested in you as well, not just because of your status of “Rooster’s wife”, but of who you were on your own. You had been nervous about moving to San Diego, though you hadn’t hesitated for a second the minute he brought it up to you; being around all of these people already had you feeling more confident. 

So, of course, did the man behind you. 

Bradley hadn’t strayed from you since he had first laid eyes on you that night. You felt a thrill knowing that he missed you as much as you had missed him. His love and dedication would never be something you would get tired of. Titling your head back once Javy and Bob wandered over to join the game of pool happening, leaving you and Bradley as alone as you had been that night, you smiled up at him. His lips quirked into that soft smile that you adored and when you pucker your lips, he was capturing them with his in an instant.

“I missed you,” you whispered, fingers toying with the buttons on his open shirt. 

“I missed you,” Bradley returned easily. His fingertips dipped under the waistband of your skirt for the faintest moments and you shivered. You simply stared at one another for several long moments, saying so much without saying anything at all. You felt heat spreading through your body the longer your eyes remained locked and when you drew your bottom lip between your teeth, Bradley groaned lowly before leaning down and pressing a featherlight kiss against your cheek. 

“Do you trust me?” he whispered in your ear. Goosebumps broke out all over your skin because you knew what those words meant when he had that look in his eye and the electricity between you was sparking like it was now. 

“Yes,” you breathed, no hesitation in your decision. With a quick look to make sure his friends were all still distracted, he was taking your hand and leading you away and toward the other side of the bar. You could see the sign for the bathroom hanging overhead and your heart started to race even faster. 

You stumbled into the single stall restroom, hands already at his belt. Bradley pressed you up against the door as soon as he locked it, rucking your skirt up and his mouth against yours. 

“Fucking so glad you’re here,” he mumbled into the kiss. “God, Pumpkin.” 

You gasped out his name as he trailed kisses to your neck, sucking at the skin harshly. You fumbled with the button and zip of his jeans, fighting to keep focused on getting them undone as Bradley pressed down on your clit through your underwear. You knew he could feel how wet you were for him; the material had to be soaked through by now. His hips thrusted forward at their own accord when you finally freed him from the confines of the denim that had been keeping him from you. He moaned into your neck as you stroked him. 

Bradley spun the two of you away from the door and hoisted you up onto the counter by the sink.  Your skirt was pushed up above your waist and he nearly ripped your panties in his haste to get them off of you. You barely felt the cool breeze of the bar’s AC hit your exposed pussy before he was pulling you to the very edge of the counter and rubbing his hard cock through your folds, coating himself. You steadied yourself with a hand behind you as the other fisted into the curls at the back of his head.

“I need you inside of me,” you moaned. “Please, baby. Please, please, please.” 

“So desperate for me,” he rasped. He didn’t give you a chance to confirm or deny before he was sliding into you. He muffled your scream of pleasure with a hand over your mouth. His dark eyes were trained on yours and you gave a jerky nod to his silent question. He pulled out of you almost completely before roughly thrusting back in. You moaned against his palm. He repeated the sequence twice more before he let his hand fall. The bar was loud outside the locked bathroom and he was trusting you not to draw attention that would give the two of you away, even though anyone who saw you coming back here had to know what was happening. 

“Gonna be quick,” he warned, voice deeper than it had been all night. You felt a whole new wave of arousal flood through you at the tone and clenched around him. 

“I don’t care,” you assured, whimpering when he slammed back into you again. “Take me, Bradley.” 

He growled out your name, and with a firm grip on your hips, truly started fucking you. 

He drove into you over and over again and the sound of your wet pussy sucking him in was echoing throughout the small bathroom. Your body shook with every thrust and from your position on the edge of the counter, you couldn’t do much more than sit there and let him have his way with you.

“Feel so good,” he grunted, “always so damn good.” 

The vein in his neck was throbbing below his skin. You couldn’t resist leaning forward and licking it. His hips jerked at the sensation and you cried out as he hit that spot inside of you that had you tightening your grip in his hair. 

“Bradley!” 

“Touch yourself for me, baby. Come on.” 

You knew he wouldn’t let you fall, so with the hand that had been braced on the counter, you fumbled past the bunched material of your skirt to get to your pussy. Your fingers brushed over him as he thrusted into you and you nearly cried at how good it felt. 

You rubbed quick, rough circles into your clit as your orgasm rapidly approached. It didn’t take long for you to get there. Between the feel of him inside of you and the dirty words he was whispering into your ear, you broke. This time, Bradley swallowed your scream by pressing his mouth against yours. It was a clash of teeth and tongue and desperation. You arched your back, a desperate attempt to bring him even closer. 

It only took a handful more powerful thrusts before Bradley’s own release was triggered. His hips slammed flush against yours and he grunted into your mouth. His cock twitched deliciously inside of you as his cum painted your walls and filled you up. You clenched around him to try and milk as much of it as you could. 

You broke the kiss when breathing became an issue. Both of you were panting as he laid his forehead against yours. Your chests heaved as you caught your breaths. 

You couldn’t allow yourselves too much time in the afterglow, mindful of the fact you were in a locked bar bathroom, so after too short of a moment, Bradley kissed your forehead and slowly withdrew from you. You instantly felt so empty, even with his cum still inside of you. You were both quiet as he pulled paper towels from the dispenser and gently cleaned you up. Your panties were on the bathroom floor and you scrunched your nose at the thought of putting them back on. Bradley scooped them up, stuffing them in his pocket before you could even voice your distaste. 

You should have known he would have done that regardless. 

He gripped your hips once again to lift you off of the counter and onto your feet. Your skirt fell back into place, albeit more wrinkled than it was before you entered the bathroom. You couldn’t bring yourself to care too much. 

You let your arms come up to wrap around his neck as his settled on your lower back. 

“I was planning on taking my time with you when you got here, to show how much I missed you,” he said. You chuckled lightly. 

“Who says you can’t still do that later?” 

Bradley’s groan was playful and full of affection. “How about we get on that now? I think we’ve stayed long enough.” 

“Baby,” you laughed, squealing quietly when he purposefully rubbed his mustache against your cheek. 

“C’mon, Pumpk. Let me take you home,” he begged. 

“Don’t you mean the temporary lodgings the US Navy is providing us until we close on a house?” 

“Semantics,” he whispered before pecking your lips once, and then twice. You hummed against your lips, smiling happily. It didn’t matter if you were in base housing, a hotel room, or even the backseat of the Bronco. Anywhere with Bradley felt like home to you. 

“One more drink,” you conceded, holding up a finger for emphasis. “Then I’m all yours.” 

“Deal,” he said immediately, sealing it with one more kiss. He made sure both of your clothing was back in order before he laced his fingers with yours and unlocked the bathroom door. The two of you were still laughing together, but it cut off abruptly once he opened it. Jake and Nat were both leaning against the wall across from the door, arms folded over their chests and eyebrows raised. 

“So,” Jake drawled out, “is it the honeymoon phase, or can we expect this all the time?” 

Nat snickered quietly as a blush crept its way up Bradley’s neck. He fumbled for a response, but you cleared your throat, giving the two of them an easy smile. “Only time will tell, I suppose.” 

Nat’s snicker turned into a full on laugh, and Jake looked at you impressed before letting out a chuckle himself as the two of them walked back down the hallway toward the noise of the bar. You followed behind them at a slower pace. When Bradley squeezed your hand and pressed a kiss into your hair, you looked up at him. His eyes twinkled and he had that soft, soft smile on his face again. 

“I love you, Pumpkin. I’m so happy you’re here.” 

“I love you, too, Bradley. I’m so happy to be home.” 

-------

End Notes: I hope you enjoyed it, and would love to hear your feedback. Likes/comments/reblogs mean the world and are so encouraging💚

Special thanks to @mak-32 for spurring the idea and for her and @roosterforme for everything, as always.

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[delulu-with-wandanat]

Fatal Attraction

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: Mentions of sexual stuff.

Summary: Natasha gets hurt during a mission with Wanda, and Wanda for some reason found herself more attracted to Nat. Yes, in her state on injury. (Featuring Y/n, Natasha's dumbass little brother and Wanda's wingman)

"Incoming!" The young super soldier yelled as he jumped into the Quinjet with his best friend. Wanda groaned at his antics, wanting nothing more than to go home and continue watching her shows.

Y/n had insisted Wanda that they flew into the back of the Quinjet instead of entering like a normal person. It's not that Wanda didn't have the heart to say no, Y/n simply doesn't take no for an answer. "So long fuckers!" He gave the middle finger as the door closes.

"Will you stop using my powers for your little attractions?" Wanda asked.

"Gosh you train with Nat too much you're starting to sound like her." Y/n rolled his eyes.

"That's not a bad thing! She get things done."

"I get shit done too! But, I make it fun."

"Not when we're-"

"Ugh quiet you two, you're being too loud." They heard Natasha complained. The two young Avengers glanced at her and their face twisted into concern when they finally noticed her injury.

Before Y/n could approach his sister, Wanda was quick to be at her side. "Natasha! What happened?"

Natasha shook it off with a faint smirk, "Don't worry about it Wanda. It's just a scratch."

"This is not just a scratch."

"I've had worse."

"You need to go to the med bay."

The former Russian spy rolled her eyes, "No doctors."

"Wands, there's no point. One time she got a broken rib and she still wouldn't go." Y/n snickered, he was concerned for Nat, but he knew she had went through worse. A flesh wound on the side of her stomach was nothing... To the Black Widow I mean.

Meanwhile Wanda's eyes grew wide at the new information. "Just take a seat, little witch. I'll handle this." Natasha said gently. Natasha was normally sarcastic to everyone, yet she had a soft spot for the young witch. Wanda blushed slightly at the nickname.

Wanda took a seat across from Natasha, Y/n approached his sister and handed her a medkit. "You good?"

"Just a normal flesh-wound-Friday, I'm good." She responded with a flat face. Her little brother rolled his eyes and took a seat next to her.

"You're always so mean to me. Wanda doesn't get this kind of treatment." He grumbled.

"Because she's kind and cute, meanwhile you're a pain in my ass." Wanda's heart skipped a beat, she thinks I'm cute? She heard her best friend groaned again.

Wanda and Natasha had been growing closer each day, especially now that Natasha was mentoring her. Wanda was close to Y/n first, as they were closer to age and not to mention he was the first to welcome her into the Avengers. Natasha took a little while longer, not that she had any resentment towards the young girl, she just wasn't exactly a people person.

Now that Steve had assigned Natasha to mentor Wanda in hand-to-hand combat, the two women are now closer than they were before. And also caused Wanda's itty bitty tiny crush on Natasha to grew. Y/n knew of course, Wanda was not subtle, at ALL.

The way her gaze would follow Nat at the gym, or how Wanda would blush whenever Natasha gave her compliments. Honestly, he might've been the one who gave Steve the idea to assign them to train together. You'll never know.

It seems like Wanda was too deep in thought as she failed to notice that Natasha had unzipped her suit in order to stitch the flesh wound on her stomach. She only looked up when she heard Natasha saying, "Keep it steady Steve."

Holyfuck, Wanda turned as red as her powers. The widow had her suit partially unzipped from the waist up, she had the sleeves of her suit take off as well to give her more flexibility. Showing off her toned bicep and of fuck her rock hard abs. Wanda let in a sharp breath.

Natasha, who has ears like a hawk, looks up at Wanda and gave her a wink. "Like what you see?"

Wanda knows Natasha is a flirt, but damn you don't gotta do her like that. Wanda quickly averted her gaze. She swore she tried to maintain her eyes elsewhere but with Natasha grunting as she tended her wounds, it's pretty fucking difficult.

She used alcohol to clean up the wound, and winced. "Agh shit-" Natasha cursed. Well that twisted something in Wanda's stomach. Y/n who had been playing on his phone, internally scoffed at his sister. She was doing this on purpose. He decided to pull out his earbuds, I'm hearin none of that.

The widow was more than capable of not making any sounds when her injuries are being cleaned. Y/n knew damn well Natasha was just teasing Wanda.

"Do you uh... need any help?" Wanda asked timidly.

"It's alright, little witch. It's nothing I can't handle." Natasha winked again. Christ, Wanda is a mess right now.

Natasha grunted again, "Ugh fuck-" she rested her head back and purposely tightened her abs. Wanda's mind raced again at the thought of hearing Natasha curse while they're in bed as she rides her abs-

No- nooope no no no

Wanda quickly shook to the thought again. The whole ride to the compound felt excruciatingly long. Natasha had opted to wear a tank top that she kept hidden somewhere in the Quinjet. (Don't question her-)

When the quinjet door flew open Y/n was the first to dart out, Steve followed after him. He look back at the two women, "Wanda, make sure she goes to the med bay. The wound still needs a proper cleaning."

"Leave it, fossil." Natasha said flatly as the two walked beside each other. Steve merely gave them a kind smile and continue his way inside the compound.

"Do you need any assistance?" Wanda asked.

"In what terms?" The widow teasingly asked. Wanda turned bright red again.

"I- you know what I mean." Natasha let out a soft laugh, she sounds so beautiful. Wanda could listen to Natasha laughing all day.

"It's alright, little witch. I can walk to my own room."

"Nu uh! Steve said-"

"Wands, I've had wounds like these many times in my life. I can handle it." Natasha said gently with a smile.

Wanda huffed slightly like a little child, shit she's so adorable. "At least let me walk you back to your room then?"

Natasha chuckles, "Alright, lead the way." The two women made their way in a comfortable silence. They reached their shared floor and soon enough they reached Natasha's room. "Well, here we are."

Natasha opened the door to her room and look back at Wanda who was standing outside awkwardly, "Are you sure you don't need to get to the med bay?" Wanda asked again. Her face showed concerns for the other woman.

Natasha gave her a gentle smile again, fuck her smile she's absolutely gorgeous. "I'm sure." Natasha retreats further back into her room. "I'll see you around, Wanda." She closes the door. Wanda lets out the breath she had been holding.

Fuck everything about this woman drives her crazy. Even as simple as Natasha saying her name. She wonders how her name sound if Natasha moaned it-

"I swear how many seasons do I have to wait til you guys get together." Wanda heard a voice beside her and yelped in surprise. She turned to find her best friend standing in the hallway leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. He had a shit-eating grin on his face.

"What are you talking about?" She asked Y/n.

"You like her, she likes you. Seriously, stop with the tension and just kiss already-" Wanda quickly shut his mouth with her hand.

"SHHHHH-"

Y/n's face cringes in confusion, "Hmpf?!"

"You can't just say things like that!"

"Like what??" He asked as Wanda let go of her hand over his mouth. "That you like her?"

Wanda glared and shut his mouth again. Y/n being the dumb best friend decided to stick their tongue out causing Wanda to pull her hand back and wipe it on his face. "EW!"

"Noo!!! I'll get a breakout-"

"Then don't lick my fucking hand!" She yelled in hushed whisper.

"Wanda, as your friend, and her brother, I'm telling you just ask her out or something."

"What if she says no?" Wanda asked, "Beside I don't want to ask her out until I'm sure she's into women."

With that Y/n gave a very, very, extremely, disappointed look. "You really did not just say that." Did she not hear the part where I said, 'she likes you'?

"What?"

"I-" Y/n shook his head. "Never mind." He turned on his heel and walked away.

"Y/n? What does that mean?!!" She chased after her friend.

These dumb lesbians I swear.

I just wanted an excuse to use that pic of Nat, teheeeeee. Hope you guys liked this! I'm still not sure whether or not to make this into a series or nah, butt i love me sum Nat x Sibling!reader shenanigans.

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha #wanda x natasha #wlw #natasha x brother!reader #wanda #moffnoff #wantasha #wandanat fanfic #wandanat fanfiction #marvel #mcu #mcu sapphic #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfic #wanda x platonic!reader #natasha x sibling!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha x wanda #wandanat x platonic!reader #wandanat fluff

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Like You Were Never Gone (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) *PARENTAL *MINOR TRIGGER WARNING

Characters: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Mention of death, implied suicide, mourning

ANGST/FLUFF

Request: Hello could you do tony x daughter genius reader wherein she loves solving crime kinda sherlock Holmes and she mostly solve it. The avengers are trying to recruit her but she refused because she love solving crime and it wear off the boredom. The avengers especially her father are worried at reader whenever the reader didn't eat nor sleep or even in the tower for couple of days and thinking something is wrong but sure the reader is solving hard cases. Anyway something happened while solving the crime, the reader (kinda like sherlock) was face to choose between her life or her loves and so she fake her death and the avwngers are devastated. No one knows she's alive till three or four years later. Hehehehhe

The mood of everyone since the morning started had been off, and no one was addressing it. Everyone went on with their days, doing their jobs, meetings, training, planning for future missions, but there was a tension in the air, and Tony was a lot quiter than usual. More passive, off in a daydream, but no one asked if he was alright. They didn’t have to. 

They knew he wasn’t alright. Why would he be? It was the third anniversary of the death of you, his daughter. It wasn’t a natural death- something anyone saw coming and could prepare for. It was sudden, coming out of nowhere, surprising everyone. And the worst part? It wasn’t even an accident. 

No one knew the exact details about what happened that day. You were acting strange- but that was just you everyday, being secretive, getting into trouble that Tony didn’t know the full extent of until days or weeks or months after it was all over, usually you putting yourself in insane amounts of danger to solve a criminal case, each time never failing to driving your poor father insane with worry. But in hindsight, the team couldn’t deny you were being even more secretive, more paranoid, more shut off then usual. The last time any of them saw you asleep in the tower before your death was 3 days prior, and none had seen you ate for at least a day before, being consumed in your work and thoughts, but they never got the chance to ask what was happening to offer help because you left the tower the night prior to your death, and the last time anyone heard from you, was when you called your dad to tell him you were sorry, and goodbye. 

Tony had spent the last 3 years trying to figure out what the case you were working on was. There was no doubt that your death was linked to it in some way. However, you hadn’t told him much, and no matter how many times he flipped your old room upside down or had FRIDAY scan your electronics for anything, or keep track of every single contact in your phone and friend on social media for any suspicious behaviour, there wasn’t many leads,  and those leads dried up in a year. You told no one what you were investigating, you covered your tracks thoroughly, and if you had taken any notes about your findings, you hid them so well not even a genius, and more importantly your father, could find out where you had put them. No traces. No leads. No idea on what led you to the decision to die that day, and so seemingly out of nowhere. The end result was nothing but questions, and your dad who was trying to act like nothing happened- somewhere between you’re still alive and just somewhere living such a normal quiet life- totally not your style- to the point where he had nothing to tell the others about and so didn’t speak about you, and acting like you never existed in the first place, but spending every night looking for anything to give him answers.

Despite the clear discomfort and tension amongst everyone in the room, everyone tried to act like it was a normal day. Everyone consciously tried to not look at Tony more often than they usually would, stayed on track with their conversations, and Tony kept his head down and was quieter than he usually was as Maria was briefing the group about some leads they got from their last mission. However, after Maria paused to switch slides, the quiet but identifiable buzzing of a vibrating phone was heard, and everyone stopped and looked amongst each other before Tony felt his pocket, and eyes went to him. “Sorry.” He apologised with a fake smile as he dug into his pocket, retrieving the phone and looked at who he was, then froze, the smile fading immediately. Everyone tensed as Tony stared at the screen of his phone. Bruce, who was sat closest to Tony, peaked over his shoulder, before his eyes widened and he looked at everyone in a panicked rush before turning back to Tony. 

“T-Tony-” Was all he was able to get out before Tony stood abruptly, leaving the room, and putting the phone to his ear. Everyone looked at Bruce in stunned silence, knowing he was was the only one in the room to give answers to what just happened. Bruce gulped, before he opened his mouth again. “It was Y/N. Y/N was calling him.”

“Who the hell is this and how did you get my daughter’s phone?” Tony stopped in the empty hallway, but his voice, while a growl, was still a whisper. He could feel his hands shaking, pumping with adrenaline. Despite the fact that you were long gone, Tony kept your phone. He paid the bill for it to remain active, kept it tucked in a drawer in your room between clothes where he couldn’t hear the vibration so he could call your number and hear your voicemail and for a moment believe you’d pick up, and just to hear your voice so he couldn’t forget. He couldn’t forget. At this point the words ‘Hi this is Y/N, if you’re hearing this, I’m busy. Don’t call again, I’ll call you maybe’ were the crispest words he could recall in your voice. He only got the phone out once a week to charge it back up. 

“Dad, it’s me. It’s Y/N.” The voice on the phone responded to him. You. It was you. Even the tone in your voice was the same- somewhere between tired and annoyed, but Tony long knew you usually didn’t actually feel the way your voice sounded. Despite this, Tony couldn’t help but doubt. This had to be a trap. Someone pretending to mess with him. “Sorry for… what I did. I really wish I could have done it differently, given you some piece of mind, but trust me, it was the only way.” You told him, and Tony couldn’t help the small scoff escaping him. This had to be a trick, unless he was somehow talking to your ghost? As if. 

“Prove it’s you.” He said simply, and he heard you chuckle. 

“I knew you’d say that. I’m coming into the tower now. FRIDAY is about to alert you. Let me in.” You told him and hung up. Tony dropped the phone to his side, and waited. Waited for FRIDAY to activate, to speak. After a second, nothing happened, and Tony sighed, closing his eyes. It was a trick. A sick trick of some sort-

“Mr Stark?” The voice of the AI made Tony’s eyes snap open. “I don’t know how to explain this, but your daughter is downstairs and wants access to the elevator to meet with you. Shall I activate security and lockdown?” She asked him. 

“No. Let her come up.” Tony answered, turning and starting to head back down the hallway, using the wall to stabilise himself. Ahead of him, the door to the meeting room opened, everyone stepping out and seeing him, Steve stepped forward, putting a hand on Tony’s arm. They were expecting an angry Tony, one who would snap at Cap, tell him to get his hands off of him, that some sick individual had called him as a joke, or that someone else had gotten your phone number and somehow called him on accident or something- not Tony, so pale they thought he was dying, seemingly in deep shock and not fully aware of his surroundings. 

“Tony what happened?” Steve asked, holding the man up.

“It was her. She… she’s in the elevator now, she’s going to be here any second-” He told them. 

“It’s probably a trap, everyone be ready.” Natasha spoke up, and everyone moved out of the hallway to the large open lounge area where the elevator’s opened to, and they waited. Tony forced Steve to take him as well, not sure who to believe. It sounded just like you. But you’re dead. Who else could be in the elevator? But you’ve been gone for three years. 

After a short period of time, the elevator was heard reaching the floor, and everyone tensed as the door opened. Everyone stared as you stepped out. Completely fine. Your eyes scanned each of the avengers, before they landed on your dad. Your head tilted, your shoulders slumping, and you sighed. “Hi dad.” 

Tony carefully pulled Steve off of him, walking slowly over to you until he stood over you, taking in all your features- making sure they were all correct. Little features only a parent would notice about their child, things that even a clone would fail to adopt. They were all there. Tony raised his arm and put it on your shoulder, and when his hand didn’t go straight through you like a hallucination or a hologram, he pulled you towards him into a hug. It was only when you wrapped your arms around him did he finally digest that you were actually here, and he lost his breath. “How? How are you here?” He asked as he clung to you. 

“Where the hell have you been, kid?” Clint asked. “We all thought you were dead. You faked your own death for three years- why are you back now?” He asked. You pulled away from your dad to look at everyone again, before looking at your dad, who also very clearly wanted answers. 

“It was related to your case, right?” Tony asked, and you nodded. “What happened?” 

“Something unexpected happened. Someone, somehow, had the upper hand on me, and they made a very clear and very real threat that I had to take seriously and act quickly to get control of the situation back.” 

“Y/N, stop being vague. You’ve been gone 3 years, I want answers, not another riddle to decipher.” Tony scorned at you, getting an annoyed look from you, before you responded. 

“I thought I was up against a singular person, but I quickly realised it was multiple people, and then I found out that was an entire organisation, and the head of it all made it clear that they had the man power to make the threat to kill you and anyone I care about.” You explained, looking directly at Tony, before you turned to the others. “And you all too. They sent evidence to me that they had people tracking your every move and at any point if I didn’t do as they said, they could kill you immediately. I had to do as they say.” 

“What did they want you to do?” Tony asked, this time his voice a lot calmer, though there was some veiled anger- not at you- in his voice. 

“To die.” You answered, shortly, and quickly everyone realised exactly what had happened. “So I did. I had to make it look as real as possible, and also make sure no one could trace what I had been doing so they wouldn’t go after you for knowing things and making everything I did be for nothing. So, I died, they thought they had nothing to worry about anymore, and they went on with their ventures, and I got to work on getting under their skin without them realising. As of 2 hours ago, that case is officially closed. News reports will be rolling in soon, but I don’t know when or even if I can ‘come back to life’. But… I had to let you know as soon as it was safe to do so, that I’m alive and okay. And I’m sorry.” You explained. 

“You were… undercover, this entire time? Did you do it alone?” Tony asked. You shook your head. 

“I had a small group of people who knew bits and pieces of what I was doing but no one knew the full image, so even if they were compromised, I’d still have an upper hand, luckily it never got to that point, but other than them, yes, I was alone 95% of the time.” You explained to him.

“Anyone we know?” Natasha asked, clearly hinting to Maria or Fury, but you shook your head. 

“None of the people I worked with have any ties back to any of you. Like I said, I covered all traces. None of the people I worked with even knew of me being a Stark.” You told her. 

“So you solved the case. What now?” Thor asked. Your eyes moved to look back at your dad.

“I need to continue to lay low for a while, might need a bit of the help of SHIELD to expose the information I have as to why the actions I did were the right course, and I can’t just come back- I’ve been dead three years, that’ll be breaking news and easy to tie back to the case if it’s found out too early. So I’m going to lay low, keep my head down… no cases for quite a while. Consider it a holiday.” 

“How about that vacation house I used to take you to all the time when you were little? In the middle of nowhere. Also means I can come say hi for a few weeks and we can catch up.” Tony offered, and you smiled and nodded. 

“That sounds good. When we get there I can tell you all about the look on that idiot’s face when he realised I wasn’t dead and I was about to make him the dead one.” 

“Alright maybe don’t admit to murder until we can get you cleared of charges.” Tony said, pushing you back to the elevator to take you home to gather what you needed, the dynamic of you oversharing or saying something inappropriate and him having to draw you back in or reprimand falling back into place so easily. Like you were never gone. 

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in! 

*Not my gif

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