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sugrhigh · 2 months

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BOY NEXT DOOR 4 - ( c.s )

part three

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- cursing, slightly suggestive MEOW

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART FOUR! i promise u guys are not ready for what’s coming next 🫨 thank u to everyone who’s been reading along i love u all so very much!! my inbox is always open and i hope ur having a wonderful day (also doesn’t that first pic look so much like chris i screamed)

@cutenote @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @l9vesick @bb-1s-blog @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @annamcdonalds67 @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @rainyenthusiastdaze @cupidsword @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @mattswrld @yoursopretty15 @poopydroopt @latinasforchrizz @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @hearts4chris @rubyjaneaxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs

“wow, someone looks extra hot tonight.” cassidy comments as she walks into your room, which is laughable coming from her.

she’s an angel, literally glowing in her multi-colored halter. you swear you shop at the same places, and yet she somehow always finds the gems.

“god, says you.” you joke, unable to keep a straight face as you stand up from your desk.

but you’re all done up too, dressed in a red tube top and some black jeans that flare out a little, hugging your hips just right. and yeah, you’re a bit smug knowing that you’re going to chris’s party looking extra great, but you embrace the post-pregame confidence.

“are you sure you want to go? we really don’t have to.” cass asks as you pass by her into the upstairs hallway.

“i mean, why not? i can never turn down free alcohol.” you shrug, and it’s part of the truth.

paying for yourself at the bar is never as fun, and the chances of somebody buying your drinks is usually slim. plus it’s on shithead’s tab tonight, which makes it that much sweeter.

“i totally agree. i just…” her smile falters a little, and she sighs, “i just don’t want you to get hurt or anything.”

it makes you pause, hearing her say that. you’d ended up talking to both of your roommates after chris came knocking on your bedroom door, and they’d been rightfully wary of his excuse.

but her words kind of confirm your worries; that chris is someone to be feared, someone to keep at a distance. like you won’t be able to resist the charm.

like you’ll fall.

“he can’t hurt me if i don’t let him.” you reply, and you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince her or yourself.

“okay, i won’t push it. i know you’re tough, but i can’t help but check in.” cass nods at you before you head down the stairs.

“i appreciate it, but i’m good, so let’s go get bombed.” you’re grinning again, still buzzing from the two drinks you’d finished while doing your makeup.

ramona is already downstairs, bopping along to the beat of the music she has playing on the tv. she’s midway through a shot of tequila as you round the corner to the kitchen, swallowing so she can bite down on a slice of lime with her free hand.

you and cassidy both chuckle at the grimace that passes over her face.

“you ready party animal?” cass teases.

“always.” she replies once she’s calm, placing the tiny glass into the sink before screwing the cap back onto the bottle of alcohol.

each of you shove your old beat up shoes onto your feet, and mona turns off the television seconds after. you can still feel the bass vibrating, but you know it’s coming from the house beside you, which makes your heart jump into your throat.

you walk out the door, one behind the other like a row of ducks as you trample through the thin layer of snow from a few days prior.

tonight, you can tell chris has his own mix on, because you recognize the yeat song that’s currently playing. you’ve always liked his taste more than the others.

you’ll never admit that to him, though.

it’s way louder now that you’re up close, and you can literally feel the party raging. ramona leads the pack, stepping inside and swinging the door open for the rest of you.

the darkness swallows you once you step inside, but your eyes adjust quickly. you recognize some people as you shift through the crowd, regulars who are usually here and a couple of guys on the team.

you try not to look for chris, instead choosing to focus on the back of ramona’s head while you guys shuffle to the kitchen for drinks. there’s a few people chatting as you step through the archway, one of them being ben. his sandy blonde hair is pushed away from his face, and he smiles at your arrival.

“hey there neighbors!” he greets each of you guys with a side hug, clearly already drunk even though it’s only eleven.

you just thank god he set his cup down, because you know he would have spilled it all over.

“benjamin, always a pleasure.” cassidy laughs at his slightly sloppy demeanor.

“chris is gonna be really happy.” ben shoots a smirk your direction, and you roll your eyes, opting to move to the bottles of cheap vodka on the counter.

“i really don’t care.” you snark, pouring a hefty bit of alcohol into your cup before setting the handle back down.

“feisty tonight, woah!” he holds his hands up in surrender.

your friends follow close behind, making their own drinks and pouring them equally as strong.

“where’s your girl, benny? haven’t seen her around in a minute.” ramona asks with a small smile, clearly trying to change the subject.

“she’s out at the bar. girls night or something.” ben shrugs as you add some sprite to your drink and take a sip.

it’s extremely bitter even with the mixer, but you choke it down and deal with the burn. you’re still not tipsy enough, so you’re playing catch-up to try and reach the level you want to be at.

mona nods at this as she slides back up next to you, cassidy joining moments later when she’s done making her drink.

“well, tell her to come around soon, i miss her.” she requests.

“i miss her too, i’ll pass the message along.” ben points a finger at her like he’s locking in a promise, loopy grin morphing his features.

“alright, we’re going to dance, but i’m sure we’ll see you later.” cass waves her free hand goodbye before you all make your way back into the masses, shoving your way into the living room.

it’s pretty packed tonight, as usual, and a sheen layer of sweat already covers your skin. you run a hand through your hair while cassidy meshes into the crowd, making enough room for you guys to move around.

bodies bump against yours as you all dance to the music together, sipping your drinks and laughing at each other’s silly moves. you swear you’ve seen connor now too, and yet you still haven’t spotted chris.

you suppose this is a good thing, because the sensation of being inebriated is only just beginning to wash over your body, and you don’t want to deal with him sober.

so you dance, and drink, and dance and drink some more, letting the hazy lights illuminate you as you bop around with your friends.

you’re knocking back the last of your fifth beverage of the night when you feel someone come up behind you, hand snaking to hold your waist gently. your first assumption is chris, and your heart leaps into your throat, but you’re wrong.

it’s a guy you don’t recognize. his black tapered hair is a mess on his head as he gazes at you hungrily.

“dance with me?” he asks over the music.

cassidy and ramona are seconds away from stepping in, but you shake your head at them to indicate you’re fine. for once, you don’t really mind being hit on, especially because he’s kind of cute and you’re definitely drunk.

it’s not like it means anything anyways.

so you back up slightly, his front flush against your spine as you move your hips, rolling them into his own.

your friends grin devilishly as the two of you sway together, so close it almost feels like you’re one person. his hand presses flat against your stomach, holding you so he can feel the friction of your ass grinding against him.

you swear it’s only been a second before the crowd parts slightly, revealing a pissed-off looking chris as he barrels his way past the other people in the living room. his eyes are ablaze, and he yanks you away from the mystery man the second he’s close enough.

“get lost, jamie.” he snaps at the boy you were with, whose eyes are wide in fear now.

he must be an underclassman then, because he scurries away instantly, too scared to stand his ground against the captain of the team and the host of the party.

“what the fuck, chris? i was having fun.” you cross your arms over your chest, slurring ever so slightly as you glare at him.

he doesn’t respond to this; instead, his chest heaves like he just ran a marathon, and his dark gaze trails up and down your body. he grabs your wrist and tugs you toward the staircase without a reply.

your friends watch in awe as he drags you away, though neither of them bother to interfere. they’re swallowed by the swarm moments later, and your stomach flips at the fact that they’re gone.

it’s just you and him now.

the foyer blurs by as you reach the stairs, and you nearly stumble trying to keep up with his pace. you’ve only just made it to the privacy of the upstairs hall when chris drops your arm, whirling around to face you.

“what is wrong with you?”

your mouth falls open slightly at his tone, at how animalistic he looks standing before you, blocking you against the wall. his white shirt is unbuttoned slightly, and you can smell that fucking dior on him.

“what the hell does that mean?” you retaliate, already flushed in anger.

“i didn’t even know you could dance like that, let alone with my teammate.” chris snarls.

“everyone can dance, and i had no idea he was on the team. it’s not like you were talking to me anyways.” you stand your ground, meeting his judgmental gaze head on.

“did you want me to?”

“i mean, you’re the one who invited me to this stupid party, so i kind of expected to at least see you.” you tell him truthfully, and you know it’s the alcohol talking now.

“one second you hate me and the next you’re angry i’m not giving you attention. i can’t figure you out, and it drives me fucking crazy.” he continues to stare down at you in frustration, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

you hate how fast your heart is slamming against your ribcage. every time he’s this close to you it’s like the air is sucked out of the room. you can’t even breathe.

“why did you really pull me away, chris?” you ask quietly.

you already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it out loud for once.

“because you should only be moving that pretty ass of yours against me.” his voice is low, and he takes a step forward.

you cancel out his movement, completely backed up against the wall now. he can’t help but let his eyes roam down to your chest, to your exposed cleavage.

you’ve been taunting him all night, though you weren’t even aware. chris has just been watching you in your element, staying to himself and letting you do your thing with your friends for a bit.

after his last conversation with you he felt like maybe he should back off, but then seeing you with somebody else was even worse. it shouldn’t be this way, he shouldn’t be so fucking obsessed so soon.

but you’re looking at him with those wide eyes, soft lips parted, and there’s no way to resist. one hand travels to the back of your neck and the other grabs at your waist, pulling you into his own hips as he smashes his mouth to yours.

it’s somehow even more passionate than the first time, messy and rough, how you both like it most. chris bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away a minute later, kissing your cheek and jaw, then down your neck.

his cold fingers make their way underneath the hem of your shirt as you feel his teeth close down on the sensitive skin. a strangled moan escapes your mouth before you can bite it back.

“i like that sound a lot, princess.” he says into your ear before his lips focus on that hollow sweet spot you love so much.

you know he’s going to leave a mark, but it feels so good you don’t care. yet you choke down the whimper you feel crawling up, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing how much you like it.

“c’mon, i know you want to.” he mumbles against your throat, and you can literally feel him smirking.

arrogant bastard. two can play at this game.

you put your hands on his chest so you can drive him backwards into the opposite wall. he’s surprised by you taking the lead, and you press your body flat against his, connecting your mouths roughly once more.

chris’s hands roam to grip your ass, a delicious pressure that you shouldn’t enjoy so much. your fingers nimbly travel to the waist of his jeans, and you feel his body tense under your touch.

you can’t help but grin into his lips as you move your hand lower, underneath the band of his boxers, grazing the warm skin of his hip tantalizingly slow.

you shift your focus to his own neck, sucking harshly and running your tongue over his skin until you finally hear him groan, a noise that you relish. his fingers dig into your flesh harder, and you can feel him grind against your thigh.

but you already got what you wanted, so you break away and take a step backwards. the shock on chris’s face after your abrupt departure is clear, his lips raw and hair tousled.

“and you had the nerve to imply that i’m the one who wanted this.” you smile and shake your head, making a move toward the stairs.

“you’re seriously just going to leave?” he asks in disbelief, which makes you turn.

“what did you think was going to happen, chris?” you smirk, tucking a stray hair behind your ear before swiping your thumb along your bottom lip.

his own mouth slowly turns up as he stares at you with a certain kind of ferocity in his eyes, adjusting his shirt and running a hand through his messy hair.

“nothing, i guess. but whatever we didn’t get to will happen eventually, you know.”

“no, it won’t.” you reply, a bit too quickly to be convincing.

“i think it will. who knows, maybe next time you’ll let me use my mouth somewhere else.” chris says lowly, hand ghosting across your hip as he passes by you, looking over his shoulder at you with an expression of self-satisfaction.

then he heads back down the stairs, vanishing around the corner like nothing had even happened.

days ago you were swearing up and down that you’d never kiss him again, that nothing would happen. and now you’re standing alone in his house while the music thumps, knees weak and breathing heavy with a hickey on your neck.

the scariest part of all is that you’re still craving more, even though you don’t want to.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #hockey!chris #hockey au #neighbor au #new series #fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets smut

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sporadicthingcollection · 2 months

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The Unskinny Bop (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: You're a really good cook and that's most of the problem. The rest of it is that he's too weak-willed to resist a treat right in front of him. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: 🌶 Explicit 🌶 Word Count: ~6.1k Warnings: Body insecurity (male and female), cunnilingus, masturbation, PiV sex A/N: Dad Bod Buggy my beloved

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She's playing all night And the music's all right Mama's got a squeeze box And Daddy never sleeps at night

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It's his own damn fault, really.

He's the one who charmed the pretty diner cook — that’d be you — into joining his crew. It was an easy sell. You get off of the little podunk island you’re stuck on and he gets those delicious little puffy pastry things every morning.

What he didn’t expect was how well you made everything else. He's had to let his pants out three times in two months because of it.

Fluffy pancakes, perfectly slung hash, and a pie-looking thing with eggs and vegetables and cheese you called a “keesh” for breakfast. Sandwiches stuffed with veggies and meat, piles of pasta tossed in rich sauce, and thick slabs of juicy steak for dinner. Not to mention the mountains of snacks and treats in between.

He came to realize that food is a key aspect of your personality. It's just what you do. A dog chases its tail, Richie pushes things off of tables, and you flit around the deck like a pastry pixie, abducting people into the galley for taste-testing.

Like right now.

His only warning that you're coming is a chirped “Captain!” before he's yanked through the door. He doesn't even have time to react before you've shoved a spoonful of something into his mouth.

He's not surprised. You do it to everyone who walks in. Food is how you show affection.

“Whaddya think?” you ask.

He swallows it too quickly to make a judgment, but it's sweet and that's all he needs to know. “Tasty.”

Every time you smile, he swears a flashbulb goes off somewhere. “Good,” you say. “It'll be even better tomorrow.”

He doesn't even bother to hide the whine. “What?”

“They're icebox pies, silly goose,” you say. “You gotta let ‘em chill.”

Another thing about you is that you're a tease. Form-fitting blouses done up just a button too short and your hair pulled back to show off your soft shoulders. A sweet little wink and a touch of the shoulder as you place a plate in front of him. And now feeding him something delicious only to tell him he has to wait until tomorrow to have more.

Your fingers snapping in front of his face jolt him back to the present. “Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to lick the spoon,” you say.

Does he wanna lick the spoon? What kind of question is that? He plucks it from your hands. “Is the sky blue? Do bears shit in the woods? Am I the captain?”

You roll your eyes, but you smile. “Gonna stick these in the big cooler and I'll be right back for the other,” you say.

Carefully, you pick up two of the three foil-covered pie tins resting on the counter and turn on your heel.

He watches you closely as you round the corner and out of sight. Such a nice soft ass you've got. He desperately wants to grab it, but the one time you got goosed, you slugged the guy so hard he was out cold for the rest of the day.

Something pink, creamy, and flecked with seeds coats the wooden spoon. He drags his tongue along the back of it and--

Oh. Oh, that is good.

His taste buds scream in ecstasy. The slightest little moan escapes his lips. For the briefest of moments, he thinks it's better than sex and his cock twitches, but he regains his sense of self before going completely mad.

He licks and licks and licks until every little drop of pink, sweet, creamy filling is gone.

Frustration bubbles in his chest. Waiting all night for this is gonna suck. Especially since you probably won't be whipping it out for breakfast.

He is captain, though. He could order you to give it to him. But you'd almost certainly laugh in his face and he really, really doesn't want that.

The shimmer of foil catches his eye. The third pie sits on the counter. Untouched. Uneaten. Mocking him in its creamy deliciousness.

He looks around. You're nowhere to be seen.

...maybe just a little bit.

He scrapes barely half a spoonful from the top. Not enough to be noticeable, just enough to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Mmm. Smooth. Thick. Sweet. Fruity. Delicious.

...a little bit more can't hurt. Then he can wait until tomorrow.

He gets a piece of the fruit itself this time and the squirt of juice on his tongue is enough to make him spoon up another dollop. And then another. And then another.

This is why your pants are so tight, his inner monologue chides. This is why you need a new belt. This is why you wear that thing around your waist. Goddamn hedonist.

They're not that tight, he retorts. And they wouldn't be at all if you weren't such a damn good cook. It's all your fault for putting delicious food in front of him and looking so pretty while doing it.

He turns to lean against the counter, only to stop dead.

You're standing there, eyes wide and brows raised. You point at him, then at the pie tin, then back at him. “Are you... Eating the...?”

“No,” he says quickly. He realizes he's holding the pie tin. “No.”

Something odd glints in your eyes as you approach him. Gingerly, you take the pie and the spoon from his hands. He lets you. You step even closer.

You're so close to him, close enough for him to feel the rise and fall of your breasts. Hell, you're so short compared to him that he can see straight down your shirt.

His heart races. What are you going to do? Throw it out? Throw him out? Punch his lights out? Never speak of this again?

To his amazement, you do none of those things. Instead, you spoon up a bit more of the pie filling and raise it to his lips. You blink up at him with big doe eyes.

He looks between you and the spoon a few times. This can't be right. You should be furious. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's forgotten as you shove the spoon in his mouth.

Why are strawberries so delicious? Why is he so weak? Why are your breasts so warm and squishy against him?

He swallows it and, as he opens his mouth to breath, you shove another spoonful in. It's just as good the twentieth time.

You offer him another. And another. And another. He accepts them all.

Until he goes to take another and you pull it away. He frowns at you. You pull it back farther and farther. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand closer. You resist, but he's spent every day of his life trimming sails and hauling cargo.

He gets the spoon into his mouth and claims his prize with a smirk.

That glint in your eyes turns into a blaze. You drop the pie tin and spoon and they hit the floor with a clatter. Pulling your wrist from his grip, you grab him by the cheeks and yank him into a kiss.

He yelps against your lips and you take the opportunity to shove your tongue between them. Licking, lapping, pressing your soft, warm body right up against his.

Only a eunuch could resist this.

He kisses you back with the same fervor, grabbing your ass to lift you up a bit and it's so soft and pliant and perfect that he can't help but dig his fingers in.

Oh, it's everything he dreamed it would be. Your warm lips moving against his, your slick tongue dancing in his mouth, your soft palms gripping his jaw.

You've lapped up all the lingering sweetness in his mouth by the time he runs out of breath. He pushes you away and you whimper, your eyes wide and your shoulders heaving up and down.

Deprived of oxygen, he says something completely, absolutely, utterly brain dead. “Can I touch your tits?”

Instead of slapping him, you nod so hard your updo shakes loose. Curly strands fall in your face.

He blinks. “Wait, really?” You nod harder. “You sure?”

Something in you snaps. He can see it in your eyes. You grab him by the hand and damn near drag him out the door.

A quick trip up the stairs and across the main deck and he's pushing open the door to his quarters. You bustle past him and, once the click of the lock sounds, you grab him by the collar and yank him into another kiss, just as wet and desperate as the last.

He barely has enough time to shuck his coat about you throw him onto the bed, clambering atop him. You're a bit heavier than he expects. Not that he says that to your face, but you’re so light on your feet that he was starting to think you were filled with cotton candy. You're certainly sweet enough.

You yank his hat from his head and toss it aside. His bandana follows and his hair falls around his shoulders.

You suck in a breath. “So pretty.”

He shrugs. “Thanks-- mmph.”

He’s silenced by you standing on your knees to pull his hair out of its pigtails. This requires you to stick your tits in his face and oh my god they're like big marshmallows you smell like cinnamon.

He can't help himself. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in closer, breathing deeply. So warm, so soft.

You giggle and the vibration makes his face tingle. You pull away to fiddle with your blouse buttons. “Wanna know a secret?” you whisper.

“Is the secret boobs?” Wow, what the hell was that? He needs to stop talking.

Lucky for him, you grin. You open your blouse and a whole lot more than he was expecting spills out. You toss the blouse to the side and plant your hands on your hips. “Va-va-voom.”

He's speechless. Shaken. Struck utterly dumb by the sight before him. All he can do is pull off his gloves and take them in his hands, pushing them, weighing them, squeezing them. There’s just… so much. Round, squishy, bouncy, threatening to surge right out of your lacy bra.

“I am but one man,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle and that makes them jiggle. Like two sacks of...like a pair of...

...he can't think of a metaphor that isn't unpleasant, so he just sticks his face in there again before something else stupid comes out of his mouth. You laugh even more and it vibrates against his cheeks and his -- that... -- and if God struck him down at this very second he would die a happy man.

You let him linger a moment before throwing your weight forward to push him onto the bed. He whimpers like a kicked puppy as you pull away.

You nibble your lip and knit your brow up as you fumble with his belt. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

He's flattered, but it's the only thing keeping his stomach in check. That can't come off yet.

He takes your hands in his own. “What's the rush, beautiful?” he says. He brings them to his lips, first one, then the other. He gently kisses your knuckles, your palms, your wrists. “This is your show. We got all night.”

You're cute when you huff. You're even cuter when your face screws up into a pout. You yank your hands away and plant them on your soft hips. “Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?” you whine.

That throws him for a loop and a half. You've wanted him too? Someone as clever and cute and talented as you wanted... him? He's not used to that. Not used to that at all.

He's stunned just long enough for you to get his belt open. You move on to his vest straps next, making quick work of those. He sucks his stomach in just as you pull it open.

Your eyes widen, and you break into a grin as they sweep up and down his torso. “Oh, hell-o,” you say, voice breathless.

He's bright red, he just knows it. “Hi,” he replies dumbly. He hopes the strain in his voice isn't too obvious.

You grin even wider. Your fingers ghost up his sides -- thank God it's his feet that are ticklish -- right up to his pecs. You give them a squeeze, not unlike how he palmed your breasts a few moments ago. The slightest of squeaks escapes him.

“I knew you were hiding something good,” you say. You give his nipples a tweak -- he squeaks louder -- and trail your fingers down to his waistband. “Let's see what else you've been keeping from me.”

He knows you're talking about his dick. He panics all the same.

He shoots a hand out to kill the light -- that should buy him some time -- and throws his weight into flipping you over. You squeal as he pins you to the bed and yanks your pants off.

And then he realizes. Your breasts? They're proportional.

Beneath him is the most lovely expanse of body he's ever seen. Soft and warm and squishy and made of convex curves that flow from gentle arms and smooth shoulders right into a pair of plump hips and shapely thighs.

He can't form words. He can't form thoughts. All he can do is stare with his mouth dropped open. What else can you do when you're in the presence of the divine?

And then he sees your face. Your eyes wide and unsure as they dart around the room. Your lips pressed together into a terse line.

“What?” he asks.

The line scrunches to the side. “I'm bigger than I ought to be, I know,” you say. You sound as if you've said it a thousand times.

He gets mad. He can't help it. It's what he does. “Are you shitting me?”

You flinch a little, though more out of surprise than fear. “N-No, I don't--”

He wants to say so many things. About how this is perfection. About how you are the most gorgeous human being he's ever laid eyes on. About how this is everything he's ever wanted in life. How you're everything and you shouldn't be so damn sheepish.

But he can't get it out. All that comes out is a raspy, rude, “Shut the fuck up.”

You stare at him in shock. And not the fun shock. It's the kind where you're not sure if you've stepped on eggshells or not.

Fuck it. No time for words. He grabs your thighs and pulls you forward, yanking your panties off and sweet holy shit you don't shave down there how could you possibly be any more perfect?

His mouth waters. His cock throbs. He dives in. He drags his tongue up your inner thighs, soft and smooth and sweet as that pie.

“Captain--!” A nip to the tender flesh turns the exclamation into a squeak.

“I said shut up,” he says between kisses.

Finally, you stop talking. You only pant and moan as he shoves his face into your pussy, lapping at your already sopping cunt. Did he do this? Are you this wet because of him?

He can't help it. He stuffs his hand down the front of his pants to fondle himself. Like the desperate bastard he is, his cock’s hard and leaking already.

He grinds against his palm as he gorges himself on you. Licking, sucking, swirling, punctuating with a few nips for good measure. It's all harmonized by the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard flowing from your lips, high-pitched and whiny.

He's not sure how long has passed when you grab his head and push him away. Time flows strangely between your thighs.

You've got a crazed look in your eyes again. “I want you inside me.”

He wants to say something clever, something cool and on brand for him, like it's not time for the finale yet or but my leading lady isn't satisfied.

But that would delay being inside you and he's too addled to think of anything. He jumps to his feet and wriggles out of his trousers and shorts. If he were more aware of himself, he'd be humiliated by just how much he has to shimmy and dance around to get them off his hips, but there's not enough blood in his brain to be self-conscious.

He kicks them away in whatever direction. Something crashes to the floor and he doesn't care. He looks back to your beautiful face--

You're wide-eyed as you look at him. He follows your gaze, right down to his--

In all the excitement, he's not sucking it in anymore.

Now it's his turn to be sheepish. He sucks it in again. But he can't hold it. Too much blood in his cock. He tries again with the same result.

Unfortunately for him, it's drawn your attention even more. Off comes your bra, and you don't take your eyes off his stomach the whole time.

Now he really can't think anymore. They're just so pretty and perfect. You're so pretty and perfect. He doesn't deserve this. This is a hell of a mismatch if ever there was one. You, divinity in the flesh. Him, a fat, dirty old clown.

This is a joke. It has to be. Someone put you up to this and now you're gonna back out and he's gonna let you because you deserve better so he better just rip the bandage off now and--

“Out,” he spits. “Get out.”

You blink at him in shock, then your face hardens. You speak with the firmness of a queen who's sick of her courtiers’ bullshit. “Get over here and get on top of me.”

You're mocking him. You gotta be. There’s no other explanation. “I said--”

You look him in the eyes. Something dangerous glitters there. “Buggy, get the fuck on top of me.”

It comes out at a hoarse yell. “Stop mocking me!”

You spring upwards and, with that wild strength that surprises him every time, you throw him on the bed. It squeaks as he bounces -- actually, that might have come from him.

You've got a look on your face he can only describe as murderous. “I did not wait two months for you to chicken out,” you say. You clamber onto him. “I did not wait two fucking months for you to finally man up and say something only for you to get self-conscious!”

Fear, anger, and arousal battle for control of his body. Arousal wins. You are hot as a griddle when you're mad.

You sit yourself on his belly, just above his cock. It twitches against your ass and he's sure it's made of clouds and he groans.

“Look at me,” you say.

He doesn't. He can't. He doesn't want to see the scorn that's surely in your eyes.

You learn forward and grab his chin, squeezing his cheeks and forcing him to look. Even in the dim light, he can see the sheen of sweat on your face and the rise and fall of your chest as you pant.

“If you want me to leave, I will,” you say, “but you will never get this chance again.”

No. No no no no. He wants you. He wants you so bad. He's never had perfection this close and it's never wanted him as much as you seem to.

“Do you want me to leave?” you ask firmly.

He shakes his head so hard it hurts.

You don't grin. You simply release his chin and lift yourself up. You lower yourself on his cock and, as he watches it disappear, inch by slick inch into your hot, wet pussy, the battle is over.

He doesn't care if this is a trick anymore. He's going to get his.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto him, fingers sinking into the smooth flesh. You gasp as he bottoms out, gripping the swell of his hips. He doesn't care. They're called love handles for a reason.

And then you start to bounce.

It starts in your legs. Pumping your thighs to lift yourself up and drop down onto his cock. The jolt ripples through your whole body, from your thighs to your belly to your breasts.

He's transfixed. So transfixed that he doesn't even notice you grabbing his pecs, squishing and squashing them between your gentle fingers. You tweak his nipples and he damn near howls.

He can't let you have all the fun. He pops his hand off to swirl his fingers around your clit.

But you don't cry out or moan. You start babbling. Something about eating and how hot he is and how much you love that he loves your cooking and it's all interspersed with pleasant-sounding gibberish. But he doesn't hear a word of it. You're too warm and slick and it goes in one ear and it the other.

But the sounds. God, the sounds of him sliding in and out of you. Wet and disgusting and it makes his mouth water and his cock leak and that just makes it wetter--

The slap of skin on skin and wet on wet and his moans and your chattering all mingle into a delicious symphony.

But it stops all too soon. Your breath hitches and you bend at the waist, singing his name like a songbird, the same little melody over and over. “Buggy, Buggy, Buggy...!”

His name dissolves into little yips and gasps as your cunt flutters around his cock. It's so good. Better than treasure. Better than adrenaline. Better than a full belly after a hard day's work--

He realizes he's not wearing a condom. Fuck. “Where ya want it?” he grunts.

You don't hesitate. “In me,” you say between gasps.

In you? Inside you? Spilling his hot, wet cum into your hot, wet cunt? Your cunt? Soaking it? Seeding it? Making it even messier and sloppier and filling you up so much that--

He almost pops right then and there, but he bites his lip. “Nuh-uh. Where?”

“In me!” you spit.

He whines the most unmanly of whines. He will. He won't. He wants to. He can't. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Captain,” you whimper, “Buggy, please...”

He looks up at you. Your hands on his chest, your breasts heaving with each breath, your little belly rising and falling, your luscious thighs on either side of his hips, your lips dropped open as you pant, your bush surrounding his fingers--

God damn it.

He throws you to the side as he pops like a champagne cork. A few drops end up on you, but most of it splatters onto the underside of his belly, where it's started obeying gravity.

One hand grips the sheets and the other grips something warm and his hips buck and his head swims and his mouth makes utterly pathetic noises. Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

He crashes back to earth like a meteor strike. All he can see is white as he flops back onto the mattress, gasping for breath.

He has no idea how long it takes for him to recover. But something soft tickles the knuckles of his detached hand. A shudder racks him as he turns his head towards you.

Post-orgasm haze still clouds your eyes, but they're big and round as a doe’s as you cradle his hand close to his face. You press your lips to his knuckles.

He gives a weak smile. “Hi.”

You giggle. God, he loves that giggle. He wishes he could hear it every day. He'd put it in a sea shell if he could, carry it around in his pocket and press it to his ear whenever he feels lonely. Or spin it into cotton candy. It's certainly light and sweet enough. Or whip it up onto a foam and fold it into batter like he watched you do that one time for cake...

His stomach growls. He needs to stop thinking about food.

You kiss his knuckles again, still smiling so very sweetly. “Are you alright?”

“Fuckin’ amazing,” he mumbles. It's the truth.

Detaching his other hand, he feels around on the floor. There's a towel here somewhere... Unless he threw it on the chair... Or over the folding screen...

He finds it slung over the door of his wardrobe. He offers it to you, but you shake your head. “After you.”

Suit yourself. He mops his belly up as you watch. Shit, this was a big one.

Satisfied, he tosses the towel away. He rolls over to take you in his arms, but he finds nothing. You're standing up, pulling his coat on and closing it around your front.

“Get over here,” he says. “That's an order.”

“I gotta clean up,” you say.

He panics. He can't help it. His voice quivers like a child's. “Don’t leave. Please.”

You give him a kind look that almost makes him cry. “I’ll be right back,” you coo. “I promise.”

He doesn't want to be alone. Not now. Tears prick at his eyes and his lip quivers. But you're out the door before he can stop you.

You're not coming back. He knows it. He disappointed you. How could he not? You're beautiful. You're divine. You're perfect.

And what is he? A fat old clown.

He lays there, shivering in the cold air, too afraid to move. Too aware of his shortcomings. Too aware of every flaw, every defect, every deficiency. His temper. His teeth. His nose. His appetite. His everything.

The door opens. The moonlight frames your silhouette for a moment before you close the door behind you.

He nearly sobs with relief. You don't notice, thankfully, as you shuck his coat.

He launches his arms at you as he sits upright, pulling you into an embrace as he falls back down. He lays you to the side, slipping under your arm and tucking his head in the crook between your chin and chest.

You thread your fingers through his hair. “Don't tell me you thought I wasn't coming back.”

He murmurs something he forgets as soon as it leaves his lips. You're so soft. So warm. So comfortable. And he's so exhausted.

You giggle. You kiss his forehead and slide your fingers through his hair. “Bonwee, sha.”

He has no idea what that means, but you say it with such warmth that it must be something good. He snuggles up close to you.

Rocked by the sea and calmed by your heartbeat, he drifts off.

---

He sleeps well, but he stirs a few times.

The first is when you shift out from under him, mumbling something in a language he can't place. You roll onto your side, your back to him. He doesn't like that at all and pulls you in to be the little spoon. You squeak. It's cute. He doesn't care that his belly presses against your back.

He stirs again when his arm falls asleep and he rolls onto his side. You follow him this time. You press yourself right up against his back, breasts and belly and thighs squishing against him. You're so warm.

The final time is as the gray light of dawn slips through the windows. He's shaken from a dream and he grumbles.

“I gotta go get started on breakfast,” you whisper. “Just wanted to let you know I wasn't lovin’ and leavin’.”

That's so sweet of you. “You're so sweet,” he mumbles sweetly.

You giggle. “See you in a few hours.”

You kiss the tip of his nose and he's not even upset.

===

You had a lovely night, but you're walking a bit funny and it's making your usual bustling around the galley just difficult enough to be annoying. And the visions of your stark naked captain filling your head are making it even harder.

You're a very simple woman, like your mother before you. You like men. You like food. You like men who like food. You especially like men who like your food.

Captain Buggy's a man. Captain Buggy likes food. And he loves your food, if his constant hovering in the galley is anything to go on. And he loves it a lot and it's showing.

The memory of him lying beneath you, his warm hips against your thighs, his belly wobbling as you bounce atop him, his head thrown back in bliss, surprises you just as you're tossing a flapjack. It slams into the ceiling and stays there.

Your fellow cook, a swarthy fellow going by Bloomer, casts the new ceiling decor an odd look. He turns it on you. “You alright, girl?”

You know what? Screw this. Everyone else can handle breakfast. “I'm gonna go wake up the captain,” you say. “How's he like his coffee?”

Milk and two cubes of sugar, he tells you. You put in cream and three cubes. Man's gotta get his strength back from last night, you tell yourself as you set off across the deck.

You knock three times on the door. No answer. You knock harder. Still nothing. You take that as a sign he may be dead and enter just in case.

Captain Buggy is, in fact, quite alive, if not also naked. He's in front of the mirror... or his face is, anyways. His body is turned completely around as he examines the reflection of his rear. He grabs a handful, thick fingers sinking into the squish. He gives it a jiggle and it wobbles.

You don't blame him. It's a great ass. Perfect for grabbing and digging your nails into. Next time, you're making him get on top so you can do just that.

But you prefer his front. That's where all the good shit is. Soft, muscular pecs, perfect for grabbing and groping, covered in a dusting of hair that trails down to his soft belly.

His hands go there next, pinching his sides. He gives them a shake and his belly bounces.

That little zing shoots up your gut and into your throat, that one you always get around men like him. That same one as when you first saw him from across the diner, draining a pitcher of beer. The same one you had last night when you walked in on him eating pie filling. And now, watching him preening after a wild romp.

...or you thought he was preening. He turns his body around and as his hands go to his face -- he's got a stronger jawline than you'd expected when he's barefaced -- you notice his laugh lines deepen. He lets out a grunt of disgust as his lips curl.

You frown. He's saying ugh as if you couldn't keep your hands off of him last night. Coaxing him in closer with pie filling just so you could feel his body molding against yours. Grabbing his cheeks and yanking him in for a kiss you'd been craving for months. Dragging him to his cabin and fucking yourself on him while you dug your nails into whatever soft flesh you could grab.

You close the door with a firm check of the hips. The slam startles him, but he calms as he sees you. Somewhat. There's still an uneasy look in his eye.

“G’morning,” he says. A little blush blooms across his cheeks. He avoids eye contact.

He'd be cute if he wasn't pathetic. You set the coffee down on the nearest surface and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your hands on the swell just above his hips and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you for finally taking the hint,” you say into his skin.

He chuckles, a low, vibrating thrum. “I never miss a cue, baby.”

Lies. You've been trying everything. Flirting. Making his favorite food. You even went braless one day on a supply run with him and he didn't even blink. Idiot.

“Then why'd it take you so damn long?”

He scoffs. “Had to make sure I wasn't seeing things,” he mumbles.

He's so pathetic. Like a wet cat. You can't help but squeeze his sides--

He jumps away from you like you gave him an electric shock. “Stop it!” he spits.

You blink. “Stop what?”

“Stop-- Stop mocking me!”

You blink a few more times. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The flush deepens along with his scowl. “Quit touching me like that.”

Not what he was saying last night. “Like what?”

“Stop grabbing my--” He huffs. “I know I’m fat. Quit rubbing it in.”

Pardon? Did you hear that correctly? Does he know who he's talking to? You try to keep your tone even, but you were never good at that. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

He blanches. “...No.”

Too bad. You grab him by the waist and throw him onto the bed. He yelps as he bounces, then once again as you straddle his waist.

“Buggy. Darling. Cher,” you say. “Do you really think I would have fucked you if I didn't think you were hot shit?”

He simmers like a boiling pot with the lid still on. “Maybe!”

Pour l’amour de Dieu, c’est un contraieuse et un tête de cabri et pourquoi ce clown so fucking stupid?

You scoot backwards, kissing your way down his chest. Each one gets a tiny grunt from him until you get to his belly. He growls and tries to roll away, but you hold fast. You gently kiss just above his navel, then the tuft of blue hair right below it.

You peer up at him. He peers back, brow knit up, questioning you.

You press your face into his navel and blow a raspberry against his skin.

Buggy squeal-laughs. You've never heard him make that noise before and it's very cute. You do it again and he devolves into laughter.

“Sto-o-op!” he cackles.

You do not. You do it again and again until he's wheezing and not scowling any more. You stare up at him, fingering the tuft of hair below his navel.

He comes down slowly, cackles turning to giggles to breathless gasps. He finally sees you staring. “What?”

“Feeling better?” you ask. He huffs, but he does nod. “Good. Now stop being mean to my favorite captain.”

He frowns a bit at that. “Who’s that? Alvida? When'd she come up?” You keep staring at him. He blinks. “Wait, you mean--?”

Gros couillion. “No, the other guy I fucked last night,” you say. He bristles. Fuck’s sake. “Yes, you!”

He blinks again. The flush returns. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn't be on top of your naked-ass body if I didn't.” You place lean in close, the tip of your nose bumping his. “And you have a very nice body, Captain.”

Just for emphasis, you grab his side, right at the fleshiest part, and give a hard squeeze. He jumps, but nods.

He tries to dive in for a kiss, but you pull away. If you do that, you'll be here all morning. You stand up, offering him your hands. “C’mon, breakfast is ready,” you say.

“I'm not hungry.” His stomach growls. He glares at it. “Shut up.”

Trump card time. “Guess I'll just have to feed all those beignets to Richie, then.”

His eyes go wide. “...you made bin-yays?”

He still can't pronounce it right, but he's getting there. “Sure did,” you say coolly. You examine your nails. “Won't be good for much longer.”

His stomach growls again. “And that pie?”

“Should be good to go, but you better be quick. They'll go fast.”

He jumps to his feet and licks his lips. “Well, keep some for me! Lemme-- Lemme get dressed and I'll be right down.”

“Don't take too long,” you say.

You turn to leave, but he grabs your hand. With a yank and a twirl, he pulls you flush against him and into a kiss.

You melt right into it. Rough lips move against yours, his warm body molds against you, strong arms holding you tight, belly pressing against yours... his nose squishing into your cheek. Wonderful, all of it.

You separate with a pop. He grins at you and wipes his wrist along his lips. “Didn’t think I was gonna let you leave without that?”

You blush. Now he decides to be slick. “Just get dressed.”

You twirl him around and, with a flat hand, you swat his ass. Just to see it quiver. The slap echoes in the small room and he jumps, but you can't stick around to see the look on his face.

You've got work to do.

---

Special thanks to my bf, Meg, and Ollie for beta-ing!

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#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece live action #fan fiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #emberly writes #dad bod buggy

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zepskies · 2 months

Text

The Miracle Man

Pairing: Boaz Priestly x F. Reader

Summary: The first time you met Priestly was both the worst and best night of your life. He gave you a Miracle.

AN: Here’s the prequel to Code Red! (But this can also be read as stand alone.) I hope you enjoy. And just a note, remember this was circa 2007, still the era of flip phones and iPods, despite the advent of the iPhone.

Word Count: 3,500

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for mature talk. A kind of meet cute, insecurities, angst, breakups, hurt/comfort, sandwiches, fluff and feels.

He was a lone ranger in the Wild West. His weapon of choice?

A dirty mop.

Priestly bopped his head to the music playing from his earbuds. His iPod was tucked in his right jean pocket while he speared the mop across the floor of the sandwich shop. It was three minutes to closing time on a Saturday night, and it was his turn to clean up and lock up.

He was looking forward to getting home, taking a shower, and diving face-first into his bed. But first, he just needed to kill three minutes.

Come on, come on, come oooon, he sang in his mind as the hands on his watch ticked on. While glancing down at said watch, he remembered it had been a gift from Tish for his birthday…

Three months ago. When they were still together.

Priestly heaved a sigh. What were you supposed to do with gifts from your ex that you actually liked? The gifts that made it into your everyday life, not just because they were from the person you thought you loved, but because it was actually hella practical and a nice accessory to keep on your person?

It’s just a damn watch. Don’t make it a big deal, he reminded himself. What was he supposed to do, have a ritual burning of everything Tish had ever touched?

That would take all damn night. And he definitely drew a line at his dick.

“Hello?”

The front door of the shop opened, the little bell Trucker installed chiming with too much cheer and startling Priestly out of his thoughts.

“We’re closed,” he said. But that was before he looked up, and had to pause in his mopping.

You were standing there, holding yourself in the open doorway with the cold breeze hitting your back. You were wearing a red cocktail dress and the highest black heels he’d ever seen, with your styled hair falling around your shoulders.

You were entirely too beautiful to be in this old sandwich shop, he thought. It had Priestly swallowing, frozen in time.

“Really? The sign says 10,” you pointed out. There was a level of desperation in your eyes. “Please, you’re the only place with the lights still on and I’ve been all up and down the block.”

Blinking out of his idiotic state, Priestly looked down at his watch again. It was exactly 9:59 p.m.

Well, damn. Got me on a technicality.

He held in a sigh.

“Okay, come on in,” he waved you over. Setting down his mop, he rounded the counter and went to man the register. He gave you a minute to peruse the menu. He noted that aside from your stunning attire, you had a cell phone in your hand that clearly couldn’t fit in that little purse hanging off your shoulder, bumping along your hip.

He couldn’t help but visually trace the curves of your hips and waist, back up to the sweetheart neckline of the dress, the deeper shade of your lipstick and up to your face.

But then he felt bad for staring, so he looked up heavenward before you caught him.

Meanwhile, your eyes drifted from the menu and dipped to his chest for a moment.

“Too bad I’m not gay,” you said.

What? Priestly frowned in confusion. But following your gaze, he realized you were staring at his yellow shirt, which read in big, 70s-style letters: Be Gay & Proud, Get a Free Drink.

His lips twitched at a grin, and he looked up at you. “D’you know what you want?”

You had a smile starting to play on your lips as well. You went back to considering your choices.

“Not sure, but I’m starving. What do you recommend?” you asked.

Priestly’s lips puckered as he considered the menu he knew by heart.

“Well, if you wanna go classic, I’d do a Spicy Italian on white bread. If you wanna be adventurous, we just added the Jalapeño Buffalo Chicken Club," he said. "But, if you wanna get crazy awesome, I can put on some Zeppelin and make you something special of my own design.”

He colored that last option with a gesture of his hand, a flourish, if you will. You tilted your head at him and smiled.

“Okay. Surprise me, Sandwich Man.”

Priestly snorted while he washed his hands again. “Sounds like the lamest superhero ever.”

“With his death-defying salami summoning powers,” you quipped, with a giggle that had him smiling as well.

“Nice alliteration,” he said. And he made a show of tying his apron back on. “Don’t worry, ma’am. Your late-night hoagie is safe with me.”

You tried to stifle another laugh while he worked his magic. From bread to meats and cheeses and toppings, Priestly was a master of his craft. He had that 12” hero wrapped and sliding across the counter towards you in record time.

“I call this the ‘Miracle,’” he winked. “You’ll see why. But that’ll be $10 even.”

You nodded and turned to the purse on your hip. You opened up the little velvety thing, but your face fell when all you found was your keys, not your credit card.

“No.” Your heart dropped into your stomach. You opened your purse wider and flipped through the satin insides, but you saw that it was empty. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I know I had my wallet in here…”

And then it dawned on you.

“That fucking asshole,” you growled.

Priestly’s eyes widened. “Uh…”

Your head snapped up to his. “I had a different purse picked out for tonight. You know, one that actually had my wallet in it? But my know-it-all boyfriend had the nerve to say, ‘That one’s too shiny, looks kinda cheap. This is a restaurant at the Ritz-Carlton, not a hooker hangout.’ Can you believe that?”

Priestly blinked in confusion, but he realized that in your purse shuffling, you had no way to pay for this amazing sandwich he’d just concocted.

And now, you actually had the beginnings of frustrated tears in your eyes as you took in a shuddering breath.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I can’t—I can’t pay for this. I don’t have my wallet… Hold on, let me see if he’ll…”

You held up a finger and started dialing manically on your phone. You held it up to your ear and waited. Your tears sprang forth anew when the line just kept ringing until it sent you to voicemail.

“Figures,” you scoffed. “The one time I actually need this douchebag to answer, he ignores me!”

You slammed the phone down on the counter and covered your face with your hand as you sniffled. Priestly softened with sympathy. You seemed to be having a harder night than he thought.

He slid the sandwich your way, making you raise your head.

“It’s okay. This one’s on the house,” he said. “Looks like you could use a pick-me-up.”

Your watery eyes met his. “Really? You don’t have to…”

“No worries,” he replied, giving you a bit of charm in his grin. “I’ll even throw in a soda. Lady’s choice.”

Your lower lip trembled, but you were able to smile. With a quiet thank you, you wiped under your eyes carefully so your mascara wouldn’t run. Then you grabbed a Coke from the machine along with your sandwich from the counter.

“Do you mind if I eat here?” you asked, gesturing at one of the tables. “I promise I won’t leave a mess. I know you’re trying to close up.”

Priestly waved a dismissive hand. “Sure. Don’t worry about it.”

He went around the counter to take up his mop and continue where he left off in the cleaning process. But he couldn’t help but eye you every now and then. Curiosity was starting to eat him alive.

Had your boyfriend just dumped you here? Had you gone off alone? Somehow, he couldn’t see the first option happening. If you were his girlfriend, he would do his best not to let you walk away angry at him, let alone this late at night, without any money or even your ID.

“Are you coming from a party or something?” he found himself asking. You looked up from your second bite of the sandwich. You’d looked to have been truly enjoying it, uttering a moan that’d caught his attention.

“No,” you chuckled humorlessly around a mouthful of bread. “I was supposed to meet his parents. His rich, very bougie, hyper-critical parents. Somehow it didn’t occur to me that he was just like them.”

Priestly paused and leaned on his mop. He was hesitant, not wanting to disturb you while you were eating, but he was too damn hooked.

“So…what happened?” he asked. You scoffed and took another massive bite of your sandwich.

“Okay, you want to hear this? Fine,” you began. “So, I’m a stress eater by nature. Let’s just start with that.”

“Who isn’t?” Priestly supplied. Pursing your lips, you raised a black olive at him in a thank you gesture.

“But when I tell you I spent three months depriving myself to fit into this dress. No carbs, cheese, chocolate, or happiness.”

He grimaced. “That’s no way to live.”

“Exactly!” you concurred. “But I did all that so my boyfriend would have nothing to say when I finally met his parents for this dinner—to celebrate him graduating from med school.”

Priestly found himself dimming inside. Not only were you spoken for, but you were with a future doctor, no less. The only title Priestly had to his name was Sandwich Man.

“It started with the purse thing when he picked me up. Then when we get there, he keeps telling me how stuffy his dad is and how judge-y and critical his mom can be and how I’m a reflection on him,” you mocked in an impression of his voice.

“Then I find myself second-guessing every word that might come out of my mouth, and I’m too nervous to even eat the $60 plate of Chilean sea bass in front of me, and not to mention, there’s a glass of wine in my hand. I don’t even like wine!”

By now, it was all Priestly could do to keep up with your verbal spitfire. You were also gesticulating wildly with your sandwich the more worked up you got.

“I mean, I’m saying things I don’t say, and suddenly I realize that I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots for this man, I don’t even recognize myself,” you confessed. Your eyes lit up with a gleam of clarity. Your hands lowered down to the table, and after a beat, you continued eating.

“But then my boyfriend of over a year turns to me and says, ‘Why are you being so weird and frigid?’” you said. You met Priestly’s eyes. “I just, I got so mad. I wanted to choke him out with my napkin, you know?”

He bit his lip to stifle a laugh.

“So instead of violence, I grabbed the glass of pinot noir, or chardon-perignon-whatever-the-fuck, and I poured it in his lap,” you concluded. “Then I walked out. And I ignored his calls. And I kept walking. Then a nice guy made me a sandwich.”

Priestly had to smile at that. He knew there was a Ritz-Carlton in the area, but that had to be almost a mile down the street. You’d walked a long way in those crazy-ass heels.

He propped his mop against a nearby table and sat down across from you. He shook his head in wonderment. And inside, your words kind of rattled him.

I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots, I don’t even recognize myself.

“You know, sometimes I really, really wish I was gay,” you said, gesturing at his shirt.

“O-Oh…really?” he asked, raising his brows.

“Yeah, I do,” you answered. “I’m a quick study. I could learn to eat pussy.”

If he had been drinking something, he would’ve spat it out. He mentally fumbled for a moment before he could articulate a response.

“Well, I don’t doubt you, but it can be an acquired taste. Though I happen to like it,” he replied, grinning mostly to himself. He didn’t even think about how it might come out though.

As soon as he realized what he was saying to a perfect stranger, his eyes widened and met yours.

"Uh, sorry," he said.

But you just chortled in amusement. Your blush intensified though, along with your smile as you took a sip of your soda.

“You’re uh…you’re pretty awesome,” he said. And he meant that.

You blinked in surprise. Your lips twitched upwards, a blush rosy in your cheeks.

“Yeah?” you asked. His smile deepened.

“Yeah,” he replied. “And for the record, I know I just met you, but…I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Your face softened with a certain shyness, but you smiled at him through your lashes.

“Well, I appreciate that…” you trailed, realizing you didn’t yet know his name.

“Priestly,” he offered, along with his hand across the table. You slipped your smaller hand in his and gave him your name.

Though you quirked a brow at him. “Priestly? That’s your first name?”

Now it was his turn to get a little embarrassed.

“Uh, no,” he said, his gaze falling from yours. He scratched the back of his head, under the blue mohawk.

“Oh. What is it, then?” you asked.

“You don’t want to know,” he chuckled wryly.

“I think I do, or I wouldn’t be asking,” you countered. Your smile was playful though. Disarming, even.

“It’s um, it’s Boaz,” he admitted. You tilted your head, as if swirling the name around in your head. But you didn’t say it was weird, or stupid, or too biblical. You just smiled.

“Boaz Priestly. Interesting,” you nodded. Then you wrapped up your garbage, having eaten all of your sandwich. You made sure to collect every crumb, even though he’d told you not to worry about the mess. You got up to take it to the trashcan near the door.

“How’re you getting home?” he asked.

You bit your lip. The anxiety in your eyes told him you’d been pondering that same question. You let out a deep breath.

“I guess I’ll have to walk back to the hotel, try to get a ride from my b…my ex-boyfriend. Gotta get used to saying that,” you said. “I promise I’ll pay you back for the sandwich.”

“Didn’t I tell you it was on me? Don’t worry about that,” said Priestly. “But I’ll tell you what, let me give you a ride.”

You shook your head. “Oh, thank you, but we just met, and I—”

Just then, Priestly realized how his offer sounded. He didn’t want to creep you out.

“Ah, or I can get you a cab,” he said. “I doubt you want to see that guy again tonight, do you?”

You bit your lip, smudging some of the scarlet red lipstick there. It distracted him for a moment, but he returned his gaze to your eyes.

You sighed. As much as you didn’t want to impose again, you let Priestly call you a cab. He paid for it in advance after you gave the cabbie your address. Before you got in the car, you turned to Priestly and touched his arm.

“Thank you,” you said. “I promise, I’ll come tomorrow and pay you back.”

He smiled. “You can try.”

He earned your sweet smile back, and he watched you get into the cab. He tried not to raise his hopes up, but he really did hope he’d see you tomorrow.

And yet, he should’ve known it was too good to be true.

“Maybe she got caught up at work or something,” Jen tried to console him the next day at closing, after you didn’t show up.

“It’s Sunday,” he pointed out grumpily. He continued to wipe down Table 4 of some nasty residue of mayo and pickled radish.

“You don’t know what kind of job she has,” Piper interjected. She was making a tuna salad sub on wheat for the last customer, which she then passed on to Tish at the register. “Maybe she’s in retail, or she’s in the restaurant business too—or hey, a lifeguard! This is a beach town after all.”

“Or maybe, she just played you into getting free food and a ride home,” Tish suggested, with her usual brand of cutting sarcasm. It just tended to cut a bit deeper these days, whenever it was leveled at Priestly.

The post-breakup thing had been tense and awkward for everyone, and it still hadn’t normalized just yet in their little sandwich-making ecosystem. Jen shot her friend a look though, one that told her she was being bitchy.

The problem was, she’d only voiced what Priestly was thinking anyway, deep down.

“Amazing, serendipitous things don’t happen to me, Piper,” he said. “Not anymore.”

He continued cleaning.

Three weeks later, it happened on a Friday afternoon.

It was one of their busiest times of the week. Tish was at the register as usual, Jen was sorting through the inventory and bussing tables, and Priestly was making hero after hero like a fiend, alongside Piper. He was definitely living up to his name of Sandwich Man.

He was still able to recognize your voice near the register.

“One 12” Miracle, please,” you requested.

“Um…we don’t have that on the menu,” Tish replied. But Priestly looked over with a grin. He met your gaze, and found you smiling back at him.

Tish followed the exchange with suspicion.

“One Miracle, coming up!” Priestly called out.

He had the order ready within minutes, but he was painstaking about it, not an olive out of place. He wrapped it up nicely and walked it over to the register himself, placing it in front of you on the counter.

“Well, hi there,” he greeted.

A familiar blush spread across your face, just as endearing as he remembered. The only thing different about you so far was your clothes. No longer dressed to the nines, you were more casual in your jeans, ankle boots, and V-necked top.

In every other way, you were the same. It might’ve been making his heart trip up.

“Hi,” you said. “Got a minute, Miracle Man?”

Priestly ducked his head, hiding a more bashful smile. Before he could respond, Tish interrupted, “That’ll be $10.”

You nodded and handed her a $50 bill. She looked at you in confusion.

“The rest is a tip, for the hero makers,” you explained, glancing at both Priestly and Piper. He gave you an incredulous smile.

You little minx, he thought. He couldn’t say no if you were tipping Piper too.

But he did ask Jen to help fill in for him while he made his way around the counter to go to you. Tish just watched the scene unfold with a silent frown, like she was trying to make sense of what was happening. She always thought she’d be the first one to move on.

“Let’s talk outside. Little more privacy from the peanut gallery,” Priestly said to you, tossing a knowing glance over his shoulder. You spotted all the employees now watching you and Priestly closely.

You became a touch more shy as he led you out of the shop with a hand resting on the small of your back. You slipped your sandwich into a larger purse than last time. Then you looked up at him with apologetic eyes.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come back here,” you said. “It got a bit…ugly, after that night.”

Priestly’s brows furrowed in concern. “Ugly?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you assured him. “Lots of shouting and empty threats, then half-assed apologies. But I’m done with all that.”

Priestly considered that with a nod. “Well, good. I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.”

You stared up at his face, and you thought he really seemed to mean that. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach, not three weeks after breaking up from a year-long relationship. Even so, the night you walked out of this shop, you felt free. Like you could breathe again.

You felt like you.

So now, you leaned up and kissed Priestly on the cheek.

His eyes widened a fraction as he stared down at you. You smiled and grasped his hand.

“Would you maybe want to…ask me out sometime?” you asked. A nervous giggle escaped you, making him smile.

“Y-Yeah, I would. If you’re sure you want me to,” he replied. In the past, maybe he would’ve let his excitement get the best of him. He’d be trying to jump at this chance. Experience had taught him not to hope too hard though. Sometimes, getting what you wished for backfired in your face.

You squeezed his hand, earning his attention.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked. Your smile became teasing before you used his words against him. “From what I’ve seen so far, you’re pretty awesome. But mostly pretty.”

He had to laugh at that. Pretty was not something he’d ever been called in life. Weird, freak, try-hard goth—that was all familiar territory. His tattoos and piercings tended to bring that out in people.

But he gathered some courage and squeezed your hand back.

“Well, you’re beautiful,” he said, thumbing at your chin. His eyes met yours and got lost there for a moment. “Uh, really beautiful.”

You blushed further and bit your lower lip out of habit. It drew his gaze, and he gained a little more courage. He tilted your chin upwards, so he could find those lips easier in a kiss. Your fingers curled in the front of his shirt and brought him closer. His hand found your cheek as he angled deeper into the kiss.

Despite the chill on the air, the California sun was warm and beating down on you both.

It was the perfect day for a Miracle.

AN: How I love Priestly lol. If you liked this, let me know! 💜

Priestly Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BP Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @sanscas @kaleldobrev

@waters-2567 @pieandmonsters @akshi8278 @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions @chriszgirl92

#The Miracle Man #Code Red Prequel #10 Inch Hero #Boaz Priestly #Boaz Priestly x reader #Boaz Priestly x female reader #Boaz Priestly x you #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #Priestly x reader #Priestly x you #Priestly #Priestly x female reader #zepskies writes

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ineffablesuffering · 8 months

Text

There Must Be an Angel (Aziraphale x reader)

I'd like to thank @avocado-writing for the inspo for this fic. They recommended I add this song to my 80s playlist (because I totally forgot this song existed) and this fic was born! I think this is classed as a songfic? I'm not too sure, anyway enjoy! <3

Pairing: Aziraphale x Reader

Warnings: unorganised bookshelves

Word count: 948 (short and sweet, might write a part 2?)

Masterlist

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“Aziraphale?” you called as you walked through the door of the bookshop, the familiar comforting scent of dust, tea and incense filled your nostrils.

“Ah, Y/N! I was wondering when you would get here,” he said appearing from the back room. “How are you, my dear?” he asked, embracing you.

You gladly returned his embrace “I’m good thank you, how are you?”

“Much better now that you’re here,” he smiled “Shall we get started?”

You had agreed to help Aziraphale organise his books after Jim/Gabriel (you never were sure what to call him) had attempted to sort them in his own unique way. It had been driving him up the wall as he could never find what he was looking for. You were more than happy to help out a friend in need, besides, you enjoyed his company. You nodded and let him show you where he wanted you to start.

“It’s been so frustrating trying to find anything since,” he stopped and sighed “I’m not even going to mention it because it just annoys me. If you want to start here with whatever this is, I’ll start over there,” he pointed to a bookshelf on the other side of the room.

“Sure!” you said cheerfully, “you don’t mind if I listen to some music while I work, do you? Helps me concentrate.”

“Not at all my dear,” he said with a smile, “whatever helps you.” He gave your shoulder a pat before walking off to where he would be working.

You smiled at him as he walked off, pulling your headphones out of your bag and connecting them to your phone. You selected a playlist and got started. The shelves were a disaster zone but at least they were all of the same genre otherwise it would have taken all day to fix whatever was going on. You began by gently taking off all the books from the shelves and placing them on a table nearby before deciding that it would be best to alphabetise by author. Getting stuck in, you bopped along to the music playing on your headphones, singing quietly to yourself every so often. The time passed rather quickly and soon you were on to a new section.

You decided to take the section next to the one where you had started and repeated the process. Taking books of the shelf, placing them on a table and reorganising them. You changed your playlist to an 80’s one and continued to sing along quietly. The smooth sounds of Eurythmics played through your ears. You smiled and continued to work. “I walk into an empty room, and suddenly my heart goes boom, it’s an orchestra of angels and they’re playing with my heart,” you sang.

Aziraphale stopped in the middle of putting a book back on the shelf a few aisles away. He could hear you singing softly to yourself almost as if you didn’t think anyone could hear you. You weren’t singing loudly but it was definitely loud enough for him to hear. He tilted his head slightly, not recognising the song but the fact that you were singing about angels definitely caught his attention. He peaked out from the bookshelf that he was organising and walked around to where you were working.

“I must be hallucinating watching angels celebrating,” you continued to sing.

He stopped when he reached you and stood and watched as you continued to sing softly, not noticing he was standing there. He watched with a soft smile on his lips, you seemed so content organising and singing. You continued to place book by book back on the shelf in an organised manner and he just watched. You started to sing what he assumed to be a different song.

“I hear your voice, it’s like an angel sighing, I have no choice, I hear your voice feels like flying,” you sang.

Aziraphale leans slightly against the bookshelf just watching you. His eyes danced across your figure as you worked, he felt like he could watch you all day. You turned around ready to start on a new set of shelves and jump at the sight of Aziraphale watching you.

“Jesus Christ!” you said, getting a fright “I didn’t hear you come up behind me, is everything okay?” you laughed taking off your headphones.

Aziraphale chuckled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just heard you singing, you’ve got a lovely voice.”

You blushed and bashfully dropped your gaze to the ground. You hadn’t realised that you were singing loud enough for him to hear you. “Thanks,” you mumbled. Aziraphale stepped closer to you, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him.

“There’s no need to be shy my dear,” he smiles moving his hand from your chin to brush a finger across your cheek, almost appreciating the blush. “It was quite beautiful. Almost angelic.” You stood there, gaping at him. You didn’t know what to say or how to react. “What were you singing darling?” he asked softly, snapping you out of your trance.

“Oh! Um what song?” you asked

“The last two just there.”

“Ah, so that was There Must Be an Angel and then the second one was called Like a Prayer.”

“Hmm, I see,” he started “fitting do you not think?” Again, you were at a loss for words. What is going on? You thought to yourself. Aziraphale smiled at you, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Tea?” he asked. You didn’t say a word as you found yourself staring at him as he walked away.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #michael sheen #aziraphale x reader #good omens x reader #michael sheen x reader

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floydsmuse · 6 months

Text

Caught dancin’

warnings: none! just fluff & Bob being a goof <3

pairing: Bob floyd x f! reader (no y/n)

description: Bob catches you doing one of your dance workouts & you can’t help but feel all shy. he’s quick to reassure you though & your feelings of embarrassment seem to flutter away… (wc 1k)

a/n: hi ! so i’m back with some more Bob fluff :,) this idea randomly came to me & i just knew i had to write it with him. it just seemed fitting haha! i really hope you enjoy this! it’s silly, but i think it turned out cute :) as always, likes & comments are great! reblogs are appreciated too🥰💕 tysm!

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you were currently in the middle of doing one of your dance workouts. you often did them to not only reduce tension, but also as a way to have some fun & get your body moving. out of pure shyness, you would only do them when your husband wasn’t home. Bob knew you did these workouts, but would never pry for you to do them in front of him. he figured you just felt more comfortable doing them alone & without the presence of an audience.

Bob was out with some of the guys in the dagger squad. they all decided to go to a baseball game a ways away from town. Bob being the gentlemen that he is invited you to tag along with, but you politely declined & encouraged him to go out for some much needed “guy time.” he reluctantly agreed & headed out to the game. you figured after a stressful work week & needing some pep in your step, you’d pop open youtube & dance your little heart out.

you throw on an active wear set, a lavender sports bra & biker shorts to match. you opt to wear your chunky white sneakers that were gifted to you by none other than your husband last christmas. you put your hair up into a ponytail, grabbed your water bottle & head into the den.

you start off by doing some low impact dances, allowing yourself to just warm up & find your rhythm. as the dances started to progressively become more intense, you were able to find your groove & get super into it. you let your body completely take control. your head was bopping to the beat of the music, your arms & legs were moving in sync. it was almost like second nature to you, your movements were coming out so seamlessly and passionately. you were feeling yourself, hitting every beat & every dance move that came your way. you were so tapped in to your own world, that you didn’t even feel the presence of your husband, who silently stood there watching you in utter amusement & disbelief. Bob couldn’t look away even if he tried, as he was enchanted by you in this moment.

it takes you an embarrassingly long time to notice Bob standing there, but once you finally catch glimpse of him in your peripheral, you freeze. you quickly scramble to grab the remote to pause the tv & drop your head in your hands, ignoring the sweat that was dripping down your face. your husband makes slow steady movements towards you, not wanting to further ignite your feelings of humiliation. he speaks to you in a volume a little above a whisper,

“my love, can you look at me please?”

just the very sound of his sweet & gentle voice could make you stop & do anything for him. you knew in this moment that you couldn’t possibly escape or melt into the floor like you so wanted to. you knew you had to face him. you bring your flushed face up to meet Bob’s kind eyes. you were sure you looked like a sweaty mess, your hair frizzy & falling out of its place in the high pony. your breathing was doing its best to settle down, but your heart continued to beat out of your chest from adrenaline & embarrassment. Bob reached over to push a loose strand of hair behind your ear & when he pulled back, he looked at you so lovingly. you didn’t quite know what to say, still feeling shy but starting to calm down a bit at his sweet action. you look down sheepishly & wait for Bob to cut in once again,

“just for the record, i think that you’re a fantastic dancer. i was in absolute aw just watching you.” Bob quipped. you knew he was being genuine by his tone & the confidence that lingered in his voice. you shot your head back up to look at him. he had the biggest smirk on his face & you just knew for a fact that your cheeks had to be the brightest shade of red that could ever exist. you look at him dumbfoundedly & a little smile slowly creeped onto your face at his words of praise,

“what was that one move you did called? i think it was something like this-“ Bob takes a step back from you, doing a crazy little wiggle with his body & flailing his arms above his head, in attempts to replicate a move that you previously did. he kept doing it, knowing the type of reaction he would get out of you. you couldn’t help but let out a giggle at his silliness,

“you almost got it! it’s more movement in the hips & less in the arms.” you reply through breathy laugher, as you do the move flawlessly, making Bob pause his dance attempts & look at you,

“show off!” he jokingly proclaims, as you pounce at him & he’s quick to hold you up with your legs secured around his waist & arms coming to wrap around his neck. within a second, your lips are being melded together in a salty & somewhat heated kiss. you both pull away, breathless, as you hide your face into his neck.

“you think you could teach me how to dance like you?”

you could practically feel his crooked smile against your cheek, as he proposes the idea. you knew Bob could get down, but you never would’ve thought he’d want to learn from someone like you. pulling your head back from his neck, you playfully shot back with,

“i think so. with lots & lots of practice, you certainly have potential.” Bob pretended to be offended at your response, but then quickly proceeded to attack your neck with kisses & squeezing at your sides, making you let out a heap of even more giggles. you swore this man could make you crumble at any given moment.

you two spent the rest of the evening happily dancing around the den, tiring yourselves out & eventually falling asleep in each other’s arms on the couch.

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x female reader #top gun maverick #tgm #robert bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #robert bob floyd #bob top gun #robert bob floyd x you #lewis pullman #floydsmuse

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juancarlos-ortiz · 1 month

Text

Denial - Juice Ortiz x Reader One Shot

A/N: A quick little one shot for Juicy pants - something sweeter this time! I am still working on Marked for Carnage but my life is a little hectic right now. Fingers crossed, next week the next chapter will be up. Please feel free to request a one shot if you wish! I will write for almost anyone from SOA.

Warnings: alcohol, swearing, mentions of sex (off page), kissing, smoking

Word Count: 1466 words

You bopped your head along to the music as you pulled the bottle opener from your back pocket, popping the tops off the beers in front of you. "Here you go, guys," you said, placing them on the bar in front of Tig and Chibs. "Thank you, sweetheart," Tig tipped his bottle your way whilst Chibs gave you a nod. You moved down the bar, serving members and the sweetbutts that hung off them. You had been working the bar for SAMCRO parties for many months now after your friend had begged you to tag along one night after they were down a person. You reluctantly agreed, having heard stories from other girls you knew were croweaters about how rowdy the parties could be and handsy the guys were. But surprisingly it had been a fun night and any guys that did try to hit on you, actually seemed to take no for an answer.

No, there was only one guy in this building you would want putting his hands on you. And he currently made his way to the bar, his eyes meeting yours and a smirk on his face. "What can I get ya, Juice?" you asked, already knowing his answer as you reached down into the fridge below the bar to grab a beer. "Beer please, beautiful," he winked, causing your skin to prickle with heat. Ignoring him, you popped the top and handed it over. He took a long sip and you watched the column of his throat dip as he swallowed, your blood rushing to your core and heart beginning to thump harder. He put his beer on the bar and smiled, aware of just how much he affected you. Crossing his forearms against the wood he lent in. "Busy tonight, sweetness?" he asked. You rolled your eyes, flicking the dishcloth over your shoulder out to lightly snap his arm. "Always busy, sweetness," you mocked before moving on to fulfill another order.

Juice stayed at the bar, watching as you moved around, taking orders, making people laugh, smoothly moving in between the other girls and the Prospects who were also working. He was playing it cool, but in reality his palms were drenched with sweat and his stomach was alive with butterflies. He could stand and watch you all night long, no croweater or pool game even a lick of competition to you. He felt someone elbow his side. Turning to face Chibs, he nodded in greeting. "A little distracted tonigh', aren't ye Juicy?" his brother asked. Juice just shrugged and had another long sip of his beer. "Been a long week, kinda tired," he lilted, trying unsuccessfully to pull his eyes from you. You passed a straw over to Piney with a laugh and shake of your head before you were heading back over to him, the sway in your hips and crook of your mouth making his pants suddenly tighter.

"You want another one?" you asked, tossing the dishcloth over your shoulder again. "I'll take whatever you want to give me," he prompted, causing your mouth to open. Juice was never usually this flirty at parties. You heard a scoff from a few seats down. "Would you two just hurry up and fuck already?!" Tig challenged, putting a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it. Chibs began to laugh into his drink. You huffed and crossed your arms. "What the hell are you talking about, Tiggy?" you sassed, lifting up their drinks and giving the table a wipe down. "You two," Tig motioned his beer to point between you and Juice. "The undressing with the eyes, the flirting…. It's painful," he blinked slowly. "Just do us all a favour and fuck each other." You let out a short laugh, your nerves setting in. What Tig didn’t know was that you and Juice had already had a roll in the sheets. Many… many… many… rolls in the sheets.

But it wasn't something you had made public purely because it was casual and you didn’t want to be seen as someone that any of the guys could have. Juice had agreed because he was fine with upkeeping his bachelor status with his brothers. You weren't exclusive but you certainly had not been with anyone else. You were unsure about Juice, and honestly you didn’t want to ask, but you were both being careful and it was just a bit of fun. But the last few times it had happened it had felt a little more than casual to you. It always happened at your place, usually after a SAMCRO party. The first few times Juice would usually leave pretty quickly after - which had been fine with you - but now he had made the choice to stay the night and usually for breakfast. Which meant you got to talk more, which in turn meant you got to know him better. And that had sparked some unexpected and intense feelings pretty quickly. You had been ignoring them because it seemed like Juice was on the casual train still and you didn’t want to fuck up what you guys had going.

"There is no undressing with the eyes, and Juice flirts with everyone," you shrugged, holding your hands out to lean against the bar. "Yeah right, and I'm the King of England," Tig rolled his eyes. "Can you believe the denial we're hearing right now?" he asked Chibs. "Ye better make a move soon though, swee'heart," Chibs chimed in. "If you don’t make a claim, someone else will." He and Tig got off their stools and moved over to the chairs where Bobby was lounging with a sweetbutt in his lap. You laughed humourlessly, before turning to move away. A hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. You looked up at Juice. "He was just kidding," he said, a forced smile on his face. You nodded and tried to smile back, shrugging your shoulders. "It's fine, Juice," you tried to step away but he held his grip. "You know there's no one else, right?" he asked, his wide brown eyes searching yours. "So what if there was?" you asked. Juice shook his head, gently pulling your arm so you would step back closer to him.

"I'm telling you, right now, there is no one else," he was dead serious, dragging his hand down your arm to lightly grasp your hand, giving you enough freedom to pull out of his grip if you wanted. "What are you doing, Juice?" you asked, looking over your shoulder to make sure the other girls were getting the drinks served. "You have to have noticed that things have been different," he pondered. "Like, a good kind of different." You swallowed thickly, nodding slowly. "I have but…" you lick your lips, Juice's eyes dropping to track the movement. "I didn’t think you did. Or that it's what you would want to be happening." Juice smiled. "You," he ran his thumb over the tops of your knuckles. "Are the only one I want to be going with. Going home to," he confessed. You blinked rapidly. "Is that ok with you?" he asked. You smiled nervously, narrowing your eyes. "It's definitely ok with me, but are you sure?" you asked apprehensively. He tugged on your hand lightly. "Come here, baby. Stake your claim," he stepped back and gestured towards himself. You chuckled, shaking your head, still unsure if this was real or some kind of cruel joke.

Stepping around the bar, you walked to him nervously. When you were close enough, Juice reached out to grasp your waist, pulling you into him quickly. You laughed, colliding with his chest. Grasping the lapels of his cut you tried to ignore the feeling of surprised eyes on you. "You're sure about this?" you ask again, making Juice sigh. "Positive," he said, squeezing your sides teasingly. "No more sweetbutts," you remind him. "And I know that you have that run clause thing but that shit doesn’t sit right with me either," you admit to him. "Baby," he tilts his head, eyes never leaving yours. "I haven’t been with any sweetbutts for months. Ask the other guys. The first time you dragged me through your front door and threw me down on your bed was it for me. There's been no one else. And won’t be. I don’t give a shit about the run clause." You smiled softly, heart warm with his confession. "Well in that case," you pulled him by his cut to meet you in a searing kiss, smiling at Juice's surprised sigh while his hands moved down to slip into your back pockets. "Atta boy, Juicy!" you heard Tig shout. Bobby cursed as he fished into his pocket, pulling out two $10 notes and handing one each to Tig and Chibs.

#soa #sons of anarchy #juice soa #juan carlos juice ortiz #juan carlos ortiz #juice ortiz #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz fic #juice ortiz oneshot #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz x reader #juice x reader

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louloulemons-posts · 8 months

Note

weirdly specific I know but what about fem!goth!reader who's been best friends with eddie for years. he thinks he knows everything about her until one day he climbs through her window to hang (bc of course he does, he can't use a door like a normal person, even if her parents aren't home, where's the fun in that?) and finds her rocking out to taylor swift and it turns out shes a massive closet swiftie.

Weird But F-ing Beautiful

Modern!Eddie X Fem!Gothic!Reader

Summary : You were a metal head with a secret, you love Taylor Swift.

Word Count : 1k

(How I imagine Reader would defend Taylor)

Warnings : not proofread, 3am writing (again-pls someone save my sleep schedule), so many taylor references!, swears, petnames, cuteness, eddie and reader are just adorable honestly

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You and Eddie had known each other for years now, you’d say he was your best friend in the whole world.

The pair of you had a lot in common, you were both unusual and unique people. You bonded over that, along with your love of bands like Metallica and Black Sabbath.

You’d always liked darker things, loving halloween whilst most liked christmas. Horror movies and true crime documentaries brought you comfort.

Complaining about summer as your dark wardrobe made the heat cling to you, it was just the person you were. But you had a secret, one that even Eddie didn’t know of.

You absolutely loved Taylor Swift. You’d found yourself bopping along to one of her songs that was on the radio and were hooked, owing all of her albums and having them on regularly.

Enter Sandman to All of the Girls you Loved Before was quite the contrast, but you loved it.Walking down the halls to your locker, Lover was playing in your ears.

People who passed you wouldn’t think that, ripped tights, a skirt that went just above your knees, dark top with long flowing sleeves - bat wings Eddie liked to call them.

Fingers and neck decorated in mismatching jewels, huge boots, a corset around your waist and eye liner that took longer than you’d care to admit. Love Story didn’t really look like a song that’d be your favourite.

Arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you softly. Pulling out an earbud you spoke, “Edward.”

“Hello Sweetheart.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Milkshakes?”

“You paying?”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Sipping on your strawberry shake you chuckled at Eddie, leaning over the table you wiped whipped cream off his nose. “Thank you,” he blushed.

“Don’t mention it Rockstar.”

“Sooo,” he said.

“Hm?”

“I may or may not have gotten two tickets to see one of the best bands of all time, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with?”

“Oh my god One Direction have reunited?” You laughed, “Shut up. Will you come with me?”

“I mean I guess I could free up some time for you,” you smirked, taking another sip of your shake.

“Cool.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Thank you for the milkshake.”

“Anytime Sweetheart, I’ll text you the details of the concert and stuff.”

“Please do. I’ll see you later,” Leaning over and kissing his cheek, cherry red stain being left on his skin.

Heading up to your room, neither of your parents were home yet. Throwing your bag down you put a record on, Taylor.

Humming to yourself as you undid your boots, you decided to start on some homework. Turning up the music and tuning everything out for a while.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Stood in front of your mirror, you began wiping your makeup from your face, eventually singing along. “I remember when we broke up,” you sang softly, humming mainly.

Sliding off your rings and necklaces, your hair being pulled out of your face, comfortable for the night. God how did this woman make these songs so catchy? What was in them?

You couldn’t help yourself, “I used to think we were forever ever …” You put your books away, cleaning your desk, “We are never ever ever getting back together!”

Dancing around your room, you laughed as you spun around your room. These songs just made you so happy, “We are never ever ever ever getting back together!”

“Okay I get the message,” a voice laughed.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” you screamed.

“Wow chill it’s me.” Eddie.

Storming over to your record player you turned it down, Stay Stay Stay playing quietly in the background. “What the fuck are you doing here? How’d you get in?” you shouted.

“Window. Came to bring this back, wasn’t expecting a concert.”

“Oh fuck off Edward,” you huffed, taking a ring out of his hand. Turning away from him and putting it with your others.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I um didn’t know you liked this music.”

“Well I do, got an issue?”

“No. Just … do you actually like metal or was that just umm …”

“I like both okay? Sometimes I just want to feel like a happy, silly teenage girl. Her music helps me do that, or if I need to cry, or fall in love or anything really. I love metal, I didn’t lie!”

“Okay. I believe you. She’s cool.”

“You think?”

“Well you like her, so she must be.”

“Shut up,” you smiled.

“I’m serious. Teach me the way of Taylor Swift,” he grinned, dropping on your bed.

“Well thats 10 albums, and then there’s Taylor’s versions.”

“God you’re a proper little nerd.”

“Says the one who loves D&D,” you smacked him lightly.

“I’m not saying she’s bad! I like that one umm … Enchanted?”

“Yes! It’s her newest re-release, god I love that album and 1989s out soon as well.”

“Slow down babe, you’re losing me.”

“Sorry, so um Enchanted?” you asked, standing up, pulling the vinyl out of its case, replacing it on the record player. The song played softly. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” you smiled, turning back to Eddie. “Thank you for bringing my ring back, where was it?”

“My van, must have fallen off.”

“Or you stole it.”

“Me?” You nodded.

“Don’t think it’d fit Sweetheart.” The chorus played, and Eddie began to hum along, standing to be in front of you. “I like this other side of you.”

“Thought you’d make fun of me.”

“I’d never. I like all parts of you, this might be my new favourite, maybe we can see her concert.”

You snorted, “You willing to sell a couple organs?”

“For you, I do anything.” You smiled up at him softly, he nudged your nose with his.

“As Taylor said, I was Enchanted to meet you,” he smiled, leaning down to press his lips to yours.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : This was so fun to do! I just jammed out to Taylor the whole time and it was great. Thank you so much for this request I hope you enjoyed it 🤍

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

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adorkablecringeworks · 8 months

Text

That Color Looks Good on You

~The Kissing Prank~

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Pairing: rottmnt x gn!reader

Warnings: Mild swearing

Summery: Up next Mikey! 83

Author’s Note:

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Part 2: Magic Mike

The lair is calm. Everyone is in their respective places, doing their own thing. All around peaceful and relaxed…

Ooooh boy is that about to change.

Chaos has arrived! Putting the menthos in the cola, NO ONE is safe today.

First up on the list, the youngest, the baby (don’t let him hear that he’ll totally throttle you), Mikey. The clanging of pots and pans echoing through the abandoned train station the Hamato’s call home made it easy in finding him. Currently located over in his domain, the kitchen. It looks like he’s getting an early start in prepping dinner.

You and Mikey cook together regularly, with you assist him or he assisting you. It’s always fun bouncing ideas of each other as well as teaching each other about different foods and new cooking techniques. Leo would join sometimes, but it usually ends up getting too crowded with everyone stumbling over each other. So he often sits to the side. Either joining the conversation or simply reading his comics, just sharing the same space and enjoying the company.

For today, Mikey’s on his own, razzmatazzing in his own element. You would normally join him when you're over, but not this time. You have a mission to accomplish with Leo.

You and your co-conspirator approach with caution, quietly peering through the doorway. There he is, singing along to his music playing from his good ol’ trusty boombox. Throwing little dance moves here and there. All in all, It’s quite adorable…

He has no clue to what’s coming.

Unfortunately, you can’t help but bop your head along to his tunes. Leo elbows in your arm to get you back into focus. You grumble back under your breath as you rub your arm. Damn those boybands and their infectiously catchy music.

Time to get to work.

=======================================================

Look at this!

A wild Michelangelo! A true rarity!

Michelangelo’s are traditionally called Mikey but are also know as; Michael, Mike, Miguel, Angelo, Angie or simply as Orange.

Agile as they are adorable, Mikey’s are far stronger than they appear.

They are known for their friendly, sweet dispositions and are quite affectionate. They are highly social creatures, having strong familial bonds and usually are found in family groups of 4. Although Mikey’s have been reported being seen in bales of up to 7 individuals.

Do not let their adorable and friendly nature fool you. Mikey’s are fast, powerful and destructive. They have the ability to lift bajillion times their own weight.

Though not easily provoked, Mikey’s do have a limit to their patience and is a force to be reckoned with when pushed too far.

=======================================================

You do your best (frankly, that’s not saying much. It’s just terrible) Down Unda accent for your nature documentary as your slider records you. Conjointly, with overly dramatic hand gestures along your narration. Leo can’t help his snickering once you’ve finished.

“Shshshshshs ssshush shshusssh shhsh”

You adjust yourself to get back into your role

“Ahahem”

=======================================================

As I mentioned before, Mikey’s are friendly and affectionate so approaching is relatively easy. Mirroring this temperament, he’ll be none the wiser on what’s to come.

=======================================================

With that, you stand up and enter the kitchen.

“Hey big man!” You casually approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck and give him a soft squeeze for a hug. Causing him too squeak softly.

“Getting an early start on Dindin?”

(Dindin… Really? You’re a nerd)

“Hey yourself!” His smile never faltering, Mikey returns the hug by leaning back into you. He flashes his signature blinding smile your way (why do you always forget your damn sunglasses when you’re around him? Even from this angle!).

“I didn’t know you were coming over! Will you be staying for dinner?”

“That depends on what’s on the menu for tonight?”

You peer down over his shoulder to see what he has lined up. Surrounding him are different spices and seasonings along with some garlic and olive oil (it all smells so good). In front is a cutting board, his chef knife, and a bowl of-

“Brussels sprouts again!?” You grimace at the offending vegetable. There it sits, a vibrant, healthy green, mocking. Throughly washed and ready to be prepped.

“Why Mikey? Why must you do this to us?” You whine, bouncing up and down on your toes. “You’re not gonna do that soup again are ya?”

The box turtle chuckles at the pout he can hear in your voice

“Come on it wasn’t that bad.”

“Dude… it had paprika and trout…”

“Paprika and TROUT!” Leo echos in disbelief, making his appearance known.

“Hi Leo. I should of known.” Mikey rolls his eyes and let’s out a sigh. “Where there is one, the other isn’t that far behind.” Despite the sass, his smile never wavers.

His response makes you and Leo chuckle. It seems that the youngest has yet to notice Leo filming with his phone.

Mikey picks up his knife to begin stemming and peeling the bustle with you comfortably still attached to his back. Apparently very much relaxed and content in your arms. All the while Leo continues his rant.

“Not even Raph could stomach it little brother.” He shakes his head. “And he ate that origami salami that had been manhandled by two foot clan’s hands, that have touch pizza supreme knows what, from off that old ship’s floor for Zza sake!”

“Yeah I’m all up for trying new stuff but that…. That certainly did not ‘Unleash The Flavor’.” Leo and you shudder simultaneously.

Mikey pauses in his work to deadpan at the both of you, then continues with his task at hand.

Leo saunters over to his usual spot over at the kitchen island takes a seat on his claimed stool. He keeps his phone steady, resting his elbows on the counter as he continues to film. This angle is perfect to capture everything. Mikey finally picks up on his older brother holding his phone out but pays it no mind. Figuring that he’s just watching some video on the internet. Yet, he somehow completely misses that Leo’s face is marked up.

“And let’s not forget the time you put it on pizza. For all things sacred you don’t put brussels spouts on pizza Miguel!”

Mikey snubs his sibling with a ‘humph’. “Raph ate that just fine.”

You chuckle at the the two of them.

“Well, for ‘all things sacred’,” You make air quotes with your hands over Mikey’s shoulder, “You don’t put pineapple on pizza either lEOnArDo.” Then wrapping them around Mikey again.

Leo scowls at your teasing, sticking his tongue out at you in an pouty blep (adorable). Both you and Mikey snicker.

“Aaannyways that’s not saying much Michael since it’s a known fact he eats moldy bread.”

“Ok ok your right, I agree.” The turtle in orange deflates, “The soup was not my finest moment and the pizza wasn’t that great either. But this is time it’s different!” He perks back up and peeks over his shoulder at you. “They be roasted with garlic, rosemary, olive oil with a dash of wasabi.”

He finishes his presentation with the bounce of his brows.

“Ok now THAT sounds yummy.” You glance over to your companion who nods in approval.

“Ok then yes I’m staying if there is enough.”

“Duh! There’s always enough for you.” He beams at you once more.

There! You catch your opening.

“Thank you Mikey” You nuzzle your cheek against his. “You’re the best!”

As someone who’s known for his physical affection, he readily nuzzles back, giggling, unknowing in what’s about to befall on him.

Seeing the affectionate display of you and his baby brother spreads a warmth through in the leader’s chest and a gentle smile on his face. Thankful for how the important people on his life getting along so well, bonding so easily. However, the feeling is short live, his gentle smile morphs back to his signature smirk for he knows what’s next.

The poor lovable, ignorant fool.

With Mikey momentarily distracted from his form his task at hand, he lets you turn him around and cup his face with in your hands. He in turns, grasp your wrists gently for support. His face is your favorite. Always so soft and squishy, so you squish, causing his eyes close.

“You are the sweetest ever!”

The bush returns to his cheeks at your praise however, before he can respond, (and once again) you attack.

Your smooches are precise and swift, producing a squeal from the youngest ninja followed by a torrent of incredibly epizootic laughter. It takes all of your willpower to fight his affliction.

On the other hand, Leo has no need to resist and freely cackles along. It makes your task that much harder. A few snorts and giggles manage to escape you in which resulted in small raspberries against Mikey’s face.

That was a mistake.

Leo’s cackles delves into a deep belly laugh. Laughing so hard he drops his head to the counter and bangs his fist against it. Remembering that he’s suppose to be filming, he fights not to fall off his stool as he over corrects himself.

Meanwhile Mikey is laughing so hard that he starts to tremble and completely loses the ability to breathe.

The situation is hilariously getting out of hand and you are finally forced to stop. Finally able to let your giggles free. You check to see if you were able to enough coverage. You’ve succeeded and are loving how your shade of lipstick compliments the soft flush of the turtle’s cheeks. As well as adoring just absolutely how infectious his smile is with his adorable tooth gap on prominent display.

“What was all that for? You’ve stayed for dinner many times already”

“I know. Just wanted you let you know how much I appreciate you. I don’t think I do that enough.”

Mission accomplished. You let go of his face and he, in turn, your wrists.

“Well let you get back to it.” You give the orange ninja one last kiss on the squishiest part of his cheek, making him give one last squeal as you pull away. With lingering chuckles, Leo takes his cue and follows you out of the kitchen. Carefully wiping the tears from his eyes as to not smear the lipstick on his face.

As swiftly as you arrived, you and your cohort depart. Leaving Mikey there beaming and sooo confused.

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btsqualityy · 11 months

Text

BTS Dating Series #14: First Time You See Him Perform

Members x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, fluff

Summary: Your first time seeing your boyfriend do what he does the best.

Warnings: None to note.

Kim Seokjin

“You sit here, Jagi,” Jin murmured as he led you over to a chair that was set up on the side of the Music Bank stage and waited until you had sat down on it before he squatted down in front of you. “You sure you’re gonna be ok here?”

“Jin, stop worrying,” you giggled as you reached out and mushed his cheeks, laughing harder when he spluttered and shook his head back and forth rapidly. “I’m the one that wanted to come and watch your music show taping, remember?”

“I know but the day can get kind of long sometimes so I just wanted to be sure,” he explained.

“I’m good, promise,” you assured him before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Go do your thing.”

“Alright,” Jin nodded before standing up straight and walking over to join the other members as they made their way on stage. Once they were in their places, “Just One Day” began to play and you smiled as they began to sing. You found yourself bopping your head along to the beat and mouthing the fanchant along with the ARMYs in the crowd.

Once Jin’s part came in the bridge, you couldn’t help but to giggle as Jin held out the rose and winked towards the camera. Throughout your relationship with Jin, it often felt like he loved to torture you by being the most charismatic man on Earth but watching him on stage, you realized that he only felt comfortable enough to show off in front of ARMYs, his members, and now you as well. That thought made you smile to yourself and before you knew it, the song had ended and the members thanked the ARMYs that came to watch before filing off stage.

“What did you think?” Jin asked after making his way over to you.

“Perfect,” you praised him. “Absolutely perfect.”

Min Yoongi

“He didn’t tell me that they were doing this song,” you muttered to yourself from your spot standing backstage when the beginning of your favorite song, Tomorrow, started to play. The group was in Tokyo, performing at the Dome stadium and you were more than happy to come along with Yoongi when he invited you to come watch.

When it got to Yoongi’s rapping part, you found yourself falling silent as he began to recite the lyrics. The song always resonated with you, the reality of “adulting” having hit you hard once you got into your 20s. You appreciated how honest Yoongi and the rest of the members were about what it was like being a young adult attempting to figure out your spaces in life, which is why Tomorrow had easily become one of their favorite songs of yours.

“Like breaker,” you shouted out the lyrics, bobbing your head along as the performance went off without a hitch. Once they finished, it was time for a costume change and just as he had with the previous two costume changes, Yoongi spent his talking to you.

“You didn’t tell me Tomorrow was on the set list,” you mentioned and Yoongi shrugged with a smug smile on his face.

“Didn’t feel the need to,” he replied and you just rolled your eyes playfully before leaning over and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Thanks,” you said, already having a good hunch that he had purposefully included the song for just you.

“You’re welcome,” Yoongi smiled softly.

Kim Namjoon

“ARMYs, how you feeling out there?!” Namjoon shouted into the microphone, receiving a wave of almost deafening screams in response. The group was on tour and were currently stopped in London, where the show had been going perfectly. You were standing backstage, watching with a large smile as your boyfriend commanded the stage for his solo song.

“As many of you know, this is the part where I do my solo song Trivia: Love,” Namjoon began. “And I thought I’d give you guys a little background on the song. I always thought of myself as a person who would have a hard time giving and receiving love in a romantic relationship but that all changed about seven months ago. I met someone and she’s here tonight.” The crowd cheered loudly and you felt your cheeks heat up from being put on the spot.

“I’m not entirely sure where she is right now because I haven’t seen her since before the concert started,” Namjoon chuckled. “But Y/N-ah, you’ve given me a love that I thought was only possible in books and movies. You’ve changed me for the better and I feel so lucky to have you in my life. This song is for you, literally and metaphorically. Here’s Trivia: Love!”

Throughout the whole song, you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as the lyrics Namjoon had written took on a whole new meaning for you. By the time Namjoon had come backstage to change after his solo and the next medley with the rest of the members, you were a teary eyed mess.

“Was that ok?” Namjoon asked as he cupped your face in his hands. “I know I didn’t talk to you before hand but it just felt right in the moment and I-”

“Joon, it was absolutely perfect,” you assured him, nodding your head up and down rapidly. “And I love you too.”

Jung Hoseok

“You sure you’ll be ok out here in the crowd by yourself?” Hobi wondered and you nodded your head. The two of you were at the All Force One festival, where Hobi and Yoongi were getting ready to join Namjoon on stage as his special guests.

“Stop worrying Mom, I’m good,” you teased, making him roll his eyes.

“Sue me for being concerned about you,” he grumbled. “If you need to take a breather though, our manager is right by the stage. I already asked him to look out for you.”

“I will, I promise,” you nodded. “Now, go.” After pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, Hobi disappeared into the crowd and you passed the time of the intermission by sipping on your drink. Namjoon came back on stage and after talking a little bit, Cypher pt. 2 started and Hobi and Yoongi came out on stage. The crowd went wild and you had to admit, you were a little taken aback by how excited everyone was. You and Hobi had known each other for almost two years by this point and had been dating for around six months, but this was the first time you saw Hobi in his element.

He was so confident, even though he hadn’t been rapping as long as Namjoon and Yoongi had, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Not that you were trying though, because he was fantastic.

Once the show ended, you pushed your way through the crowd and ended up making your way backstage where Hobi was talking to Namjoon and Yoongi.

“You did so good!” You squealed as you bounded over and hugged him tightly.

“I guess your first show surpassed your expectations then, huh?” Hobi chuckled.

“You have no idea,” you smiled.

Park Jimin

You wrapped your arms around yourself, attempting (and failing) to stay warm in the cold December air in New York. You were in the heart of Times’ Square on New Years’ Eve, waiting to watch Bangtan perform for a New Years’ Eve special.

“You doing ok, baby?” Jimin checked with you and you nodded your head even though you could feel your toes getting cold.

“I’m good. Excited to finally see you perform live,” you smiled.

“I’ll try to do well for you,” Jimin told you before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. Just then, one of the managers called out to him so Jimin walked over to join the group and you bounced in place to try to get your blood flowing.

“Now, here with their songs ‘Make It Right’ and their smash hit single ‘Boy With Luv’, here’s BTS!” Ryan Seacrest announced and the crowd went wild as Bangtan stepped onto the stage. After doing a little snippet of Make It Right, they quickly moved into Boy With Luv and you found yourself automatically singing along to the words. Jimin was doing an amazing job, the dance moves flowing effortlessly through his body as he sung beautifully.

Towards the last chorus, Jimin moved into his position in the center but somehow, his jacket that he was wearing ended up getting stuck on top of his head. Instead of panicking, he went with it, making funny faces at his members which caused them to laugh as well. He ended up fixing it and the song ended, to thunderous applause from the ARMYs in the crowd.

“You did so good!” You praised as you met Jimin as he walked off stage and he just sighed heavily.

“I messed up with my jacket,” he pouted.

“Hey, you still sounded great,” you assured him. “And it was so freaking cute.”

“You think?”

“Absolutely,” you stated firmly, making him smile before he kissed you passionately.

Kim Taehyung

You stood behind the large camera that was placed on the television set, watching with a smile as Bangtan performed their latest title track for a London-based television show. Taehyung had invited you along to watch and you couldn’t help but to be in awe of how grand the production was.

You hadn’t really seen Taehyung perform with the full group before and now that you were, you couldn’t help but to kick yourself for dragging your feet on it so long. Taehyung was amazing, his movements subtle and strong and that gorgeous, velvet voice of his had you in an almost trance-like state.

“And let’s give it up for BTS!” The host said once the song ended and you clapped as softly as you could (since you were right behind the camera) as the members took a bow. After the light that showed the camera was rolling went off, the group stepped down off of the stage and began to make their way backstage. Taehyung instantly paced over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist as the two of you started to walk together.

“You did amazing Tae,” you gushed. “I was literally in shock and awe.”

“Really?” Taehyung chuckled. “You can tell me the truth, you know? You don’t have to flatter me.”

“I wouldn’t lie,” you giggled. “Honestly, I loved it.”

“Well, I love you and I think that’s more important,” he cooed, leaning over and brushing his nose against the side of your head.

“You’re gross,” you huffed, even though your heart warmed from his words.

Jeon Jungkook

“You ready for this?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Jungkook,” you laughed. “I’m just going to watch the show from backstage. You’re acting like I’m the one about to perform for thousands of people and not you.”

“Hey, I just wanna make sure you’re ready for all the talent you’re about to see up there,” Jungkook smirked, making you roll your eyes playfully. You were on tour with Bangtan and this show in Berlin was going to be the first time you saw Jungkook live on stage.

“You just worry about getting up there and doing good,” you told him as you cupped his face before pressing a firm kiss to his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded before kissing you again. Just then, the members got the notice that it was almost time for them to go up on stage so after a third and final kiss, Jungkook pulled away from you and went to get into his position. You moved over to watch the show from a screen and you saw the lights on the stage come on after the end of the VCR.

The music came on and the stage began to lift into the air, the sounds of the cheering from ARMYs almost becoming deafening. Once the stage lifted, Jungkook opened his mouth and began to sing the first lines of the song. You mouth dropped open slightly as you literally watched him transform from the boyfriend you saw all the time in your apartment to the Golden Maknae.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, a smile spreading onto your face as you watched him come alive.

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Tag List: @addictedtohobi @brittneymccray @cursedcursives @arata18nanami @leftieaquarius @devilsbooksworld @starmyy @werewolfbanshee-love @li-moonchild-il @kpop-servant @cheysjimin

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months

Text

Nightlife 2

Warnings: dark elements to come. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for reading and any thoughts you have.♥♥♥♥

Lee has Raquel on his arm as you’re on her other side. He nods at the other bouncer as you emerge into the night chill. The man is even bigger than the one helping you, with a dark trim of hair along his lip.

You follow Lee to a dark car parked around the side of the building in an employee spot. He gets Raquel into the front seat and buckles her in. You watch as he lifts her head and tries to peel back her eyelids to check her pupils. He sighs.

“You young ones like your sambuca,” he shakes his head as he stands straight and shuts the door gently, careful that she’s full inside. “Most of ya.”

As he looks at you, you bounce on your toes and give a sheepish smile. “Thank you, sir,” you squeak, ears still buzzing from the blast of music in the club, “um, er…”

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” He asks, “you good in the back seat? You don’t get car sick or nothing?”

“No, sir, um,” you play with the loose hem of your blouse, “um, do you still have my phone?”

“Ah, shoot,” he pats his pants pockets, “I knew I was forgettin’ something.” He searches, feeling around and finally his deep blues eyes spark. He smirks crookedly and reaches into his chest pocket, “sorry ‘bout that, sweet thing.”

He hands it back and you accept it with a quiet thank you. He puts his hand on the roof of the car and stares at you. What do you do next?

“I didn’t get your name, sweetheart.”

“Oh!” You open your eyes wide, “yeah, uh…”

You give your name as he listens intently. He repeats it back to you, as if feeling it on his tongue. “I get that right?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, “er, should we…”

You peek through the window at Raquel and he shifts to look over his shoulder. He nods and pivots.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sooner your friend lays down, sooner she’ll sober up.”

He strides around the front of the car and you get in the back seat. You clutch your phone tightly and check the time. It’s late! You don’t stay up very much, even on weekends.

The car dips beneath his weight and he settles in, turning the engine as he checks the mirror. He grips the shifter and pauses, glancing back at you through the shadows.

“All buckled up, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

“You know, I’m no sir, you don’t needa do all that,” he chuckles as he slowly leans on the gas.

“I’m sorry, s– Lee,” you correct yourself.

“It’s fine. No reason to be sorry,” he coaxes as he turns out of the lot, “how about some music? You like music?”

He flicks on the radio as he keeps one hand on the wheel. Bruce Springsteen flows from the speakers but he’s quick to change the station. He pushes buttons until he lands on the poppy tones of the latest top ten.

“Ah, I know this one,” he says proudly, “don’t mind it much at all. You like it?”

You listen but don’t recognize the song. You’re a bit lame, not knowing the names of whatever new hits Raquel plays on her bluetooth.

Can you kiss me more? We're so young, boy We ain't got nothin' to lose, oh, oh It's just principle Baby, hold me 'Cause I like the way you groove, oh, oh

It’s not bad. You like the rhythm of it. It’s upbeat and happy, if not a bit explicit. You don’t think it’s really his taste but you suspect he’s just trying to be nice.

“Yeah, it’s fun,” you finally say something.

He bops his head slightly as you look out the window. Your eyes flick up the mirror on the passenger side door and you watch Raquel slowly slump against the interior. You really hope she’s okay. She comes home drunk but you’ve never seen her like this.

The ride is quicker than an uber, maybe because the traffic has died down. He pulls in behind your building and you get out before he can. He comes around and opens the door. You can only stand by as he undoes the seatbelt and takes her out of the passenger seat.

“Show me the way,” he says as he turns to you, closing the door with his elbow.

“Oh, yeah,” you scramble for your keys and turn to lead him.

He trails you and waits just at your shoulder as you unlock the front door. You hold it open for him. He steps inside and stops, peering around with a sense of cluelessness. He lets you sidle around him toward the stairs.

He follows you up several flights to your floor. You feel bad. He’s carried her all this way. He even drove you home. It is a bit much and more than you deserve. You really don’t know if you could’ve got Raquel back on your own.

You open the door to your shared dorm and let him through once more. You point him to the couch and go to place a pillow by the armrest before he sets her down. He lays her over the cushions carefully. Despite his appearance, he’s been very nice. To both of you. He turns her onto her stomach and angles her head outward.

“You’ll wanna keep her on her belly case she needs to spit up some of that alcohol,” he says, “might wanna get something for that.”

“Sure, uh, thanks,” you wring your hands as you stand awkwardly by the end of the couch, “I appreciate it. I… I’m sorry. I don’t know how she got like that.”

“I’ve seen worse. You know, not many friends I know would come all the way down to help like that? I got girls left in the bathroom with their heads in the toilet. Pretty sad world, huh?”

“Oh, wow,” you eke out, “that’s… terrible.”

“Yeah, I do my best to help ‘em but can only do so much, you know? I’m glad I could help ya out. You walked up looking so lost… gotta be honest, it was cute. Little darling like you with your pretty flowers.”

You look down at your blouse. You could laugh at yourself. You probably did look like a dweeb waiting in line.

“Uh, yeah, well, I… really appreciate all this. I, er, wish there was a way I could repay you. Um, I could… give ya some money for gas, I might have a ten–”

As you grab at your purse he snorts and waves you off, “don’t do all that. It’s just fine, sweetheart. You take care of your friend. And yourself. Alright?”

“Erm, yeah, I can do that,” you squeeze your purse as you look up at him.

“Y’all have a good night and don’t forget to lock your door,” he tucks his hands in his pockets and slowly turns on his heel.

You watch him cross back to the door and he pauses. He seems lost in thought as he bows his head and angles just slightly so you can see his profile. He raises his chin and peeks over at you.

“If ya really wanna make it up to me, I… I’d love to take ya for some ice cream. One day? You like ice cream?”

“Ice cream?” You wonder, “uhhhhh, I like ice cream, yeah.”

“Alright,” he accepts with a grin, “I put my number in your phone if ya wanna let me know when you’re free.”

“Oh, you did?”

He rubs his neck and chuckles, “hopeful thinking. But uh, yeah, it’s there.”

“Uh, thanks,” you’re not sure what to say, “I– good night.”

“Yeah, yeah, have a good one.”

He faces the door again and pulls it open. He lets himself out and you quickly skirt over to turn the latch, just like he bid. As your hand lingers on the lock, you can’t help but wonder how he knew where you live. He never asked.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #au #drabble #series #the devil all the time #nightlife

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purplephantomwolf · 4 months

Text

Savoring the Finish Line

Chapter Five

Story Synopsis: Max Verstappen falls in love with a woman who owns a bakery.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately. Also, this is not an accurate portrayal with how a bakery works. I did my best with research, but it's not 100%.

Warnings for this chapter: Badly translated French

Previous chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four

Masterlist

March 19, 2022

The flood lights are bright against my eyes. “Night races are beautiful,” I hum to myself. I walk along the paddock an hour before qualifying is supposed to start. I watch all the engineers, drivers, and working personnel rush about. I hum to myself, walking towards the Red Bull garage.

“Good evening, Adaline,” Max says, stopping his conversation with Christian Horner and Geri Horner. I jerk to a stop, surprised.

“Hello, Max,” I smile at him. Both the Horners look between us

“Christian, Geri, this is Adaline, the girl who owns the bakery I was telling you about. Adaline, this is Christian and Geri Horner,” Max introduces us.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Horner,” I say, extending my hand. Christian shakes my hand.

“Please, call us Geri and Christian. Any friend of Max’s is a friend of ours,” Geri says, pulling me in for a hug. I blush and nod, as I pull away from her.

“So, Max has told us that you own a bakery?” Geri asks me.

“Yes! It’s a small bakery in Monaco called Delicieux Gateries,” I grin, always happy to talk about my bakery.

“What do you sell?” She asks, starting to walk into the hospitality.

“Well, I sell all sorts of things. There’s croissants, kouign amanns, scones, macarons as some of my most popular selling items,” I list off, following after her.

“You say my and I, do you work at the bakery by yourself?” Christian asks, appearing behind Geri.

“I’m the only full time employee. I have this older couple who works the front of the bakery for me part time, but I do all the baking,” I explain. Max comes up next to us.

“Louis and Estelle right?” He asks. I nod to confirm it. Geri and Christian exchange small smiles, and I grin at Max. Max glances at his watch and nods to Christian. They start the descent down to the garage to get ready for qualifying as Geri and I continue talking about my bakery. Suddenly Max comes rushing back into the hospitality. “Will you wait for me after qualifying? I want to make sure you get back to your hotel safely,” Max asks me. I blush and grin.

“Sure, you might find me asleep here, but I’ll wait in here for you,” I smile.

“Great, good, awesome,” Max says, fumbling over his words. He rushes back downstairs, as Geri lets out a laugh. I turn to her blushing, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Oh sweetie, that’s just too cute,” she smiles. I nod, blushing.

“I should probably go down to make sure I’m in place before all the excitement starts. It was nice meeting you, Geri,” I say.

“It was nice to meet you too, Adeline. I’ll make sure to stop by your bakery some time when I’m in Monaco,” she says. I nod, grinning. I head down to the garage, getting into place. Max looks over at the area for guests and smiles when he sees me. I send him a quick thumbs up, smiling. He quickly looks back at the data and his race engineer.

I grin as the lights go green at the end of the pitlane. I take a deep breath, breathing in the smell of rubber and fuel. It smells wonderful. Max pulls out of the garage, sending a big vibration through my body from the roar of the car. My eyes flick between the screens and the track. I’m keeping an eye on the times as I watch the cars fly by on the track. I smile when Max makes it into Q2 easily. I have no worries about Max making it into Q3. I bop my head along to the music playing throughout the paddock as I wait for Q3 to start.

I frown as I hear Max on the radio saying something about his tires being fucked when he goes slow. “That’s not good,” I mutter. Max goes out for his last lap. I cross my fingers as he crosses the finish line. “Yes! Let’s go, Max!” I cheer as he finishes P2. The garage claps and cheers at his results.

The garage starts to clear of the other Red Bull guests. I linger, trying to stay in the garage as long as possible. Eventually the engineers start leaving too, so I head up to the hospitality. I take a seat at one of the tables, waiting for Max.

************************************************************************

“Adaline,” I hear my name whispered. I jolt up, looking around. I rub my eyes, trying to get rid of the tiredness.

“Oh, hi Max,” I grin, spotting him squatting next to my chair. I stand up, grabbing my bag. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” Max says, looking guilty.

“It’s okay! I’d rather have someone to walk me back this late at night, than go back by myself,” I shrug. Max looks relieved.

“Which hotel are you staying at?” He asks, grabbing my bag from me. I start to protest him carrying it, but he gives me a stern look and I stop.

“The Hilton,” I answer, walking out of the hospitality.

“Oh, good! That’s just down the road from my hotel,” he smiles. Max leads me out of the paddock. “Did you enjoy today?” He turns to me.

“Oh, yes! Congrats on starting P2 tomorrow! You were amazing,” I gush.

“Thank you,” he grins, as we arrive at a car.

“Is this your car?!” I gasp, looking at the Aston Martin car.

“No, it’s just on loan to me for the weekend,” Max replies, “All my cars are back in Monaco.”

I nod, “Makes sense.” Max opens my door for me, and I slide in. I run my hands along the seat, marveling at it.

“Do you like it?” Max asks, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Yes, I’ve never been in such an expensive car,” I look over at him. He pulls out of his parking spot, and I admire him as he drives to my hotel.

“Thank you for the ride back, Max,” I thank him as he pulls up to my hotel.

“Of course, Adaline. I’ll see you tomorrow? I can drive you back after the race,” Max looks over me, hopeful.

“I would like that,” I smile at him.

“Okay, then I’ll see you tomorrow after the race. Hopefully I’ll see you before the race too,” Max says.

“Hopefully! Good night, Max,” I say, opening my door.

“Good night, Adaline,” he says, as I shut the door. He watches me walk into the hotel before pulling away. I head up to my room, falling into bed. I sigh happily, before quickly falling asleep.

************************************************************************

March 20, 2022

I thank the driver of the taxi as I climb out. I scan my pass to get into the paddock. I walk pass the Ferrari hospitality and spot Carlos outside. Louis is a big Ferrari fan, so I figure getting Carlos’ signature on his hat would make him super happy. “Excuse me, can you please sign my hat?” I ask Carlos. He quickly signs it, before heading inside the hospitality. I head inside the Red Bull hospitality. I sit at one of the tables, waiting for it to be closer to 6 to head down to the garage. I’m reading an article on my phone when the chair next to me is pulled out. I look up and see Geri sitting down. “Hello, Mrs. Horner,” I greet her.

“Please, dear. Call me Geri,” she waves her hand.

“Okay, hello, Geri,” I say. She laughs and greets me.

“Are you having fun this weekend?” Geri asks me.

I nod quickly. “This is the most fun I’ve had since I opened my bakery. I haven’t taken time off since then,” I answer her.

“Oh, honey. You must be working yourself to death then. You should take some time off,” she says, looking worried.

“I am looking at hiring another baker, that way I can take time off. It’ll be nice to not have to work every day,” I explain. She nods, smiling. The door to the hospitality opens, and Max walks in. He’s deep in conversation with someone, so I just wave to him when he looks over. He waves back, before heading down to the garage.

“So tell me, how did you and Max meet? I know Max, and he wouldn’t give out garage passes to just anyone,” Geri asks, turning to me.

“He came into my bakery having a panic attack. I helped calm him down, The garage pass is a thank you from him. I told him I didn’t need them as a thank you, but he refused to take them back,” I tell her. Her eyes get a worried look when I say the panic attack part.

“Thank you for helping him. Do you know why he was having one?” Geri asks, looking concerned. I shake my head no. “Okay, thank you,” she sighs. I glance at the time. Seeing that it’s 15 minutes before the race is supposed to start, I stand up, Geri standing up with me.

“It was great talking to you, Geri. I hope we can talk again after this weekend,” I smile. She pulls me into a tight hug.

“I’m sure we will,” she grins, letting me go. I head down to the garage, getting into place as the national anthem finishes. I excitedly slide the headset on.

Max enters the garage, a concentrated look on his face. The thought of how cute he looks when he’s concentrating enters my mind. I shake my head at this thought. I cannot start liking this man, he’s so far out of my league. Max slides his helmet on and climbs into the car. There’s a muffled roar of engine as he pulls out of the garage.

************************************************************************

The lights go out and Charles goes across the track to block Max from taking P1 at the first corner. I gasp as Esteban and Mick collide, spinning Mick around. I let out a relieved sigh when Mick continues on. I always get so worried when cars collide.

Hamilton slides as he pulls out of the pits, trying to warm up his tires. I smile and clap my hands once when I see Zhou pass him. Hamilton quickly passes Zhou again. Max pulls into the pits, and I watch as they put a new thing of soft tires on his car. It’s amazing to watch the pit crew work so quickly.

Charles comes into the pits, and I bite my fingernails as I watch them do a slower stop then Max’s. “Come on, Max,” I whisper as Max comes down the main straight. I groan as Charles comes out in front of Max. They battle all throughout the lap. The Red Bull garage breaks into cheers when Max passes Charles and then groans when Charles passes him back. The two drivers repeat the same fight on the next lap. I groan as Max locks up on the third lap of the fight, not letting him take the lead.

Max comes in for a second pit stop, putting on medium tires this time. Charles does the same thing the next lap. I groan as Charles comes out in front of Max again. Max is angry as he comes on the radio, complaining about how he took it easy on the out lap, when he could be ahead. “I’m never doing that again,” he says.

Max comes into the pits again, and as he pulls out of the pits, he complains about the steering. I hold my breath as I listen to his radio, hoping everything is okay. I gasp suddenly as I see Pierre Gasly pulled off to the side. He leaps out, as his car catches alight. The full safety car comes out, and the cars bunch up. Max keeps coming on the radio complaining about the steering.

I groan as Max gets a poor restart after the safety car. My hands clasp together as I pray that Carlos doesn’t pass him. A few laps pass, when suddenly Max comes on the radio asking about the battery. Max is tumbling down the order. “No!” I gasp, hand flying up to cover my mouth in shock. “He was doing so well,” I pout, “He was so close to finishing.” He pulls into the pits, and I just know he’s going to be angry. He climbs out of the car, and walks back into the garage. Suddenly I hear a shout and my head flies to the track. Sergio Perez has lost the engine and spun around. I’m shocked that Red Bull has had such an awful start to the season.

The race finishes with a Ferrari 1-2, but I could care less at this moment. I know Max is going to be upset, and I just hope he knows there’s nothing he could’ve done to prevent it. I wait in the garage until after the podium ceremony, waiting to see if Max comes back in. Eventually I head into the hospitality. I take a seat to wait for Max.

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

Taglist: @milaeth @fanboyluvr @fangirl125reader

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 story #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen story

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ughthisisntright · 10 months

Text

This is For Us | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader | Part 1

Summary: A chance encounter.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 2,069

Next Part

Music. Thumping. Pounding. Wasn't much of an older crowd in tonight, hm?

Bradley was stunned to see so many young people around. Could just be spring break or something but he wasn’t sure. He’d been so swept up with his training that the days sort of melted together at this point. Just as they did for the rest of his squadron.

Top Gun was no joke, he found out quickly. Had his father been alive, he was sure he would have gotten an earful about how not to do things. After being with Maverick for all those years he was sure there were some pretty hard and fast dos and don’ts.

Moments like these where he and his buddies could go out and blow off steam were absolutely essential for Bradley. He felt he’d lose his mind if he spent too long on base. He hadn’t accounted for literally everyone else in San Diego being at this bar tonight, though.

The music aside, the game of pool with his friends was going quite well. He leaned over the table and closed one eye to line up his shot just so. He carefully drew the stick back, brought it forward and back a few times to make sure he had everything lined up properly, then hit the cue ball hard. Two balls sank into the pockets and he grinned, mustache twitching upwards with the motion of his lips.

Turning to face some of his buddies, he caught a quick blur of someone brushing past him gently. A small voice rang out a sheepish “excuse me” as the person passed. He watched them the whole way back to their seat at the bar. Instantly mesmerized, he set the pool stick down and leaned against the pool table.

You sat at the bar with what Bradley assumed were a couple of your friends. Unfortunately they looked more interested in the young aviators that sat just a couple seats down from you. You, on the other hand, seemed to just be enjoying being out and about.

And that was every bit true as he’d assumed it was.

Your smile, your head bopping to the music, and the happy little way you sipped whatever it was you were drinking. Your foot tapped the stool to the beat just as your head bobbed along and he took note of the beat-up shoes you sported. Something he found endearing, though, he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

“I’ll be back,” Bradley called over his shoulder to his buddies. He walked up to the bar and decided to order himself another beer, standing ever so close to you that you might have thought he didn’t even see you there. The bartender nods and turns to grab the bottle before handing it to the young man. He then set his sights on you.

“Hey,” he said with a smile, grabbing your attention. “You look like you could use another. Mind if I get it for you?” He gestures to your glass.

You looked up at the man and drank him in - tall, muscular, fluffy brown hair. This man was the definition of golden-retriever energy just based on looks alone. Fortunately, just your type. And to boot - he was in his khaki uniform that screamed “Naval Aviator.” With a small laugh, you hold up your empty glass.

“You must have a sixth sense for knowing when a girl needs a refill,” You mused over the music with a grin. “I’ll take whatever you think I need.”

With a sly grin, Bradley turns back to the bartender. “I’ll also need a tequila sunrise for this lovely little thing.”

He turned back to you as the bartender was mixing your drink, that same grin plastered across his face.

“The name’s Bradley. People call me Rooster, though,” he held his hand out to you to shake which you happily did.

“Rooster? Is that a euphemism for something?” You raised a brow and tilted your head, earning a hearty laugh from the man whose hand you were now holding.

“No! Oh, but only if it was.” His laughter transitioned to a gentle chuckle and he wiped a fake tear from his eye. “It’s my callsign. I’m an aviator.”

You smirked and shook your head at the man. “Like that wasn’t obvious enough?”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look at you. I wouldn’t choose to wear that much khaki even if someone paid me a billion dollars!” You laughed, not necessarily at him, but you still laughed. The mirth with which you laughed elicited a nervous laugh from Bradley. He brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that khaki was a tactical choice.” He said matter-of-factly. You shook your head and laughed again.

“And what tactical purpose does khaki serve?”

“Look at us,” he gestured to the pool table where aviators dressed in that horrendous beige gathered - no, swarmed. “The enemy will be so busy saying ‘Holy shit, that’s a lot of khaki’ that they’ll never even see us coming.”

You let out another howl of laughter, your friends turning irritably in your direction and then immediately turning away. They hadn’t even noticed Bradley next to you. Good.

“You’re slick, I’ll give you that. Take a seat.” You pulled the bar stool next to you out for him to sit down. He happily obliged and rested his hands on the bar top, picking at the label on his beer bottle. Soon the bartender returned with your tequila sunrise - what a girly drink. He must enjoy these in his alone time, you thought.

“So, Rooster,” You started with a smirk. “I’m assuming you’re only here for a short while? I know the military likes to jerk you around in every direction.”

He nodded slowly, “I’m currently a student of Top Gun, the most elite fighter pilot school in the world. I graduate in a couple of weeks, actually.” He had an air of pride as he explained this to you. You figured he should be proud - he was at a very prestigious school for aviators.

“Oh, wow, you’re an even fancier naval aviator,” you eyed his khaki uniform. “Just need to start dressing like one.” Your smirk was like art to Bradley. The way it crinkled your nose just a touch and the apple of your cheek growing more supple and kissable.

“Maybe someday,” he replied casually, sipping his beer.

You finally decided to take a sip of this cocktail he bought you. Once the tequila touched your tastebuds, it was game over. You were hooked. It killed you to admit that the girly drink he bought you was actually fantastic. You set the glass down with a smile.

“Alright, Bradley,” you started, crossing one leg over the other on the stool. “I can stay for this one drink. But I have to work tomorrow so you’d better give me everything you’ve got within the next 45 minutes.”

“Everything? In 45 minutes? You drive a hard bargain… I’m sorry I never even asked for your name, did I?” He let out a laugh and shook his head. “You can clearly see where my head’s at.”

You let out a soft laugh and shook your head as well.

“No, no, I didn’t offer it. We’re both the same level of stupid tonight.” You put your hand on his arm reassuringly. You then gave him your name, to which Bradley grinned proudly at.

“Well then,” he offered you his hand, repeating your name. “I won’t waste my time around these parts if I have to impress you in such a short timeframe. The beach is just out back, and we’re going for a stroll.”

You smiled at his confidence and downed the rest of your beverage before standing up. You were about to put some cash down on the bar to pay for your drink, but Bradley beat you to it. He slapped down a $50 bill and took your hand. He then looked past your head to your friends. They still hadn’t noticed what was unfolding behind them, and you decided to keep it that way. You shook your head with a smile and pulled him to the door at the back of the bar that led directly out to the sandy beach.

“Oh my, gosh, you’re joking!” Your voice rang out over the crashing waves with a laugh.

“Nope! Right over the damn thing, I swear.” He chuckled at your laugh, the sound very quickly becoming like music to him.

“And you just decided not to land immediately? I would have broken every protocol just to see something like that up close.”

“Well, hey, maybe someday I can take you to see the real thing. Beats breaking rules, right?”

“Well maybe the thrill of breaking the rules would have made it that much better,” Your voice dropped lower, hand sliding up Bradley’s arm as he told you about his flying stories. You’d been walking on the beach for well past those 45 minutes you’d mentioned. You’d just call in sick tomorrow. This boy was simply too good to pass up.

“You must be thinking of one rule in particular?” He brought his hand up to the side of your neck and caressed your jawline gingerly. He loved the way the sunset made your skin glow. He loved pretty much everything about you so far. Little did he know that one particular rule of yours involved him directly.

“Well…” You looked into his eyes with a sheepish grin. “I’ve got my own little rule about dating aviators.”

His eyes widened, but that expression was quickly replaced with a smug grin. Knowing what you were about to say next, he took a step closer to you, your lips almost touching.

“But for you, I’ll bend my rules just a touch.” You grin back at him. Feeling the moment sweep you up, you closed the distance between your lips and kissed him softly. The tickle of his mustache on your upper lip is nothing compared to the sneaky way he gripped your waist. You felt his fingers dip below the waistband of your shorts ever so slightly and it sent a shiver up your spine. The very thought of going all the way with him had you seeing stars, but you knew now was not the time. He can’t get the wrong idea. So, without giving it to him, you pull away slowly.

“Hey, now…” He grabbed your chin and scanned your entire face. “I wasn’t done with you.” He kissed you again. This time there was more of a purpose behind it, like he was trying to prove to you that he was the one you wanted. You let your guard down just for a moment, enjoying the way his lips molded against yours, and the way his fingers assumed their position below your waistband again. The tingle between your legs was not to be denied, and you weren’t about to. It was only when a small whimper left your lips did he pull away.

“I think I’ll let you keep imagining it, sweetheart,” he quipped with a smirk. Your confused expression spurred him to elaborate further, you thought. “I’ll give you everything you want, everything I want, too. But in due time. I don’t graduate for another couple of weeks.”

You rested your head down on his shoulder, his hand coming to caress your back and fingers to run through your hair. You closed your eyes and let out a soft laugh.

“So this means you’re going to take me on a proper date, yeah?” Your voice was soft but it could still be heard over the crashing waves behind you.

“Yes, sweetheart,” Bradley chuckles as he speaks and kisses your head. “I think… I’ll pick you up tomorrow night. Six o’clock sharp. And I want you to wear something pretty. Gotta show you off.”

You look up at him now with narrowed eyes, but the way he looks at you melts the hard expression you wear into a softer one. You smile and kiss him again, which he happily returns. Then, in a swift motion, he’d swept you off your feet and spinned you in a circle. You let out a laugh against his lips.

This was going to be either the biggest mistake of your life, or the happiest ever-after there ever was.

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crazyunsexycool · 1 year

Text

My little love

Chapter 11

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!reader

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: threats toward reader and lottie, use of gun, canon level violence, death of a minor character, baby written smut, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), implied oral (f receiving), lil itty bitty bit of a breeding kink if you squint, lil bit of dom!reader at the beginning of the sexy times… I think that’s it.

A/N: it’s finally happening you guys!!! Let the badly written sexy times begin! Also don’t poke mama bear or you’ll die!

Series masterlist

Ch 10

It was just a recon mission.

It should be easy, those were Bucky’s words. But you hadn’t been out on a mission together since Charlotte was saved. You were dreading leaving her behind although you knew Steve and the others would take amazing care of her. She was your baby, your sweet Angel and you wanted to be the one to keep her safe. But you knew how important this mission was so you settled for watching her sleep for a few minutes before getting ready to go. She looked so peaceful and content in her new toddler bed. You and Bucky had decided to change the crib into the toddler bed version since she figured out how to get out of it. After fixing the blanket covering her, you give Lottie a kiss on the cheek and slowly and quietly start walking out. You jump when you turn and find Bucky leaning against the doorframe.

“How long have you been standing there?” You whisper yell in his direction.

“Just a minute or two. I guess we both had the same idea.” He answers once you’ve walked out of Lottie’s room. The door was left ajar and he looked back to see his baby still sound asleep.

Bucky follows you into the third room in your apartment. You had turned it into a sort of closet. It stored your uniform, weapons and some pre-packed medical gear in case you needed to leave quickly and couldn’t head to the medbay first. The door was kept locked with a code so Lottie couldn’t get in, especially now since Bucky kept his weapons in there too. Both of you quietly go over your bags to make sure you have everything you need. Tony had provided you with a small box of metal discs that you could manipulate and turn into whatever weapon you wanted. Hands find your hips and lips connect with your shoulder.

“Do you have everything you need?” Bucky asks as he peers over your shoulder.

“Almost. Weapons, medical supplies and clothes but Fury said there was a small change in the mission so I have to go get whatever equipment they want to give me. How about you?”

“I’m packed.”

You turn in his arms and close your eyes as Bucky’s lips meet yours. The door to Lottie’s room creaks open and you pull apart. Bucky winks at you and steps outside to meet his daughter while you finish up.

A few minutes later you walk into the kitchen. Music from the 40s filled the room while Bucky moved through the space making breakfast. Lottie sat in her booster chair at the table and bopping along to the music. Her hair was still sticking out in random places.

“Good morning my sweet Angel.” You coo sweetly. She looks up at you and gives you a sleepy smile.

When you smooth out her hair she leans into your touch and then she returns the kiss you place on her cheek. The three of you share breakfast together and before you know it you have to go change to head into the last briefing and then on to the jet.

“Hey guys.” Steve says as he walks in.

“Steeb.” Lottie says happily.

“Good morning sweetheart. I missed you so much.”

Lottie walks to him and lets Steve pick her up. Her head immediately rested on his shoulder. She pats his cheek gently and yawns. It’s a miracle she’s even awake considering it’s so early in the morning. You wouldn’t be surprised if she fell right back asleep, especially while Steve held her.

“We’ll meet you at the hanger.” He says when both you and Bucky head to the door.

“We’ve had a minor change of plans but we think it will be better in the long run.” Fury announced as soon as you walked in. He looked down and back up. “What no more little Barnes to disrupt the meeting?”

“I can go get her if you want Fury. All you had to do was ask to see her.”

“No, no we have very important things to do.”

You bite back a smile as you take a seat.

“We have found and intercepted an invitation to someone from the Romano family.”

“Aren’t they the crime family based out of Jersey?”

“Yes, and it just so happens that you have a very striking resemblance to Grace Romano.” Tony adds as he pulls up a picture of the woman.

“I’m going to have to talk to my dad after this is over.” You joke as you look over the photograph. They were right, the only difference was really the eye color and the height.

Tony places an invitation and a contact lense case on the table.

“We want you to infiltrate the auction as Grace Romano. It will give us a better idea as to who will be there and who will win the bid.”

“Absolutely not. Over my dead body.”

“Why don’t we just make the highest bid?”

Both you and Bucky spoke at the same time. He glared at you and you stared right back.

“Those people are the worst. I can’t let you go in there if I can’t be right by your side.” He argues.

“The contacts are also cameras so you can see what she does. You’ll be set up in a van just outside. It will be placed at the entrance closest to the room the auction will be held at.” Tony says, trying to ease the tension.

You look at Bucky who shakes his head no and you give him an apologetic smile. “I have to. We need to help whoever hydra is using.” You take the invitation and the contacts.

“Good. The auction itself starts at 10:00 pm but it would be good if you were there earlier to mingle with the other guests. We’ve already sent a copy of Romano’s file to your tablet and clothing is already in the jet.” Fury informs you.

“Well I have some studying and you have some flying to do.”

Bucky mutters something under his breath. It had been a long time since he had been grumpy with you but you just smiled and headed toward the jet. He followed behind and complained the whole time. It wasn’t until he saw Lottie that he calmed down a bit.

“Hi, dada.” She said and waved happily. “Hi, mama.”

“Hi my sweet Angel.” You stopped in front of Steve who was holding her. “Can I have kisses?”

Lottie pushes away from Steve and clings to your neck as she gives you quick pecks on your cheek. Bucky is quick to reach out for her and she happily gets passed between her three favorite adults. He starts talking with her and steps away from both you and Steve.

“I heard about the change in the mission.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty pissed. Doesn’t want me to go in there by myself.” You say as you look over your shoulder where Bucky is smiling at Lottie.

“Everything will be fine. Just make sure that if you run into trouble you call him in. Don’t think you can handle everything by yourself.”

“Yes sir.” You salute.

“Be careful you little shit.” He chuckles as he brings you in for a hug.

“Take care of my girl. And if something comes up my dad’s number is on my fridge and he can come up to watch her.”

“You got it.”

You give Lottie one more goodbye hug and kiss and head into the jet. After a few more minutes Bucky walks in. He sits in the pilot’s seat and starts the plane. Once it’s safe to do so Bucky puts the jet in auto pilot and turns his seat around. You had been studying the person you were supposed to imitate.

“Why did you agree to go in there?” He asks, clearly still upset with your decision.

“Because it’s our job, what was I supposed to do, say no?”

“Yes. It’s dangerous, you could get hurt.”

You look up at him and you can see the worry in his eyes. Putting the tablet down you make your way to him and stand between his legs.

“Baby, I know you’re worried I could get hurt but you have to trust that I’ll make the right calls when I’m in there. We have to help this person that hydra is obviously using to replace you. I’m not worried because I know you have my back.” You told him while your arms rested on his shoulders.

“I know. But you can’t blame me for worrying. It is hydra after all. And the thought of anything happening to you.”

“Don’t do that to yourself. Now, do you want to see the dress I was given to wear to this thing?”

You go to the garment bag that was left with the rest of your things. There was a strapless champagne colored dress in the bag. The top looked like a corset and the tulle skirt ended above your ankle.

“How the hell am I supposed to fight in this or carry a gun?”

“I’m not sure but at least you’ll have your bracelets right?”

You smiled as you thought of how you could sneak in as much metal as possible.

“I have a better idea.”

The auction had been changed. Fury, Tony and Steve assured you that it was normal for something like this to happen in order to keep law enforcement agencies off their trail. So instead of having a day to prepare, you had a few hours. It didn’t help that Bucky went back to his grumpy muttering that he didn’t want you in there alone.

You kissed him deeply before saying your goodbye and walking into the suite that had been booked for you. Appearances were important is what Tony said. You shook your head in disbelief at the over the top hotel room. Especially since you wouldn’t get to really use it. There were only two hours left until you had to leave for the auction and you spent that time getting ready.

********

The hotel lobby was bustling with guests and staff, both from the hotel and the ones running the auction. You rolled your shoulders back and held your head up high, your expression almost bored. Your movement through the room was elegant and eye-catching, just like your dress. It moved with ease even though you had added metal all throughout, making it look like it was sequin. Bucky was in your ear, pointing out who you needed to stay away from and who was hydra.

You move toward a closed off hallway guarded by two burly men in matching black outfits.

“They’re hydra if you see them anywhere other than guarding a door you get out of there.” Bucky’s voice comes through your ear piece.

They both looked down at you and the one on the left stuck his hand out. You pulled the invitation out of the clutch you brought with you and he all but ripped it from your hand. The other waves you in and you take your time looking at the art work that had been hung up throughout the hallway.

“These are all replicas. They let you take a good look at them so you know what you’re bidding on. The real artwork is kept under lock and key.” Bucky informs you.

One item though wasn’t a painting, it was a tv with a video feed. The room it was showing looked empty except for a chain on the floor and for a moment you thought it moved. You risked it and spoke up.

“Are you seeing this?”

“It must be the asset. I doubt hydra has them in the building though.”

“Miss,” a man walked up behind you. “This way please.” He ushers you into a large room set up with a bar and tables as well as a stage toward the back. There was a microphone and a podium.

The room was already full, with people of influence preparing themselves to outbid each other.

“What a lovely surprise to see you here tonight.”

You recognized the accent immediately and turned to look at who had just snuck up on you.

“King T’Challa, I could say I’m the one surprised to see you here.”

“Please, there is no need for you to call me king. How have you been Y-“

“Grace Romano.” You whisper and he nods in understanding.

“Grace, it’s been a while since you visited Wakanda. How is our friend doing?”

“He’s doing well. A bit grumpy but what else can you expect from an old man?” You say as you discreetly signal that you have bucky in your ear.

“You know I can hear you right.”

“Well that is good to hear. Now what are you here for?” T’Challa asks as you both move further into the room with Okoye following you both.

“An asset, hydra is looking to rent them out for missions or jobs. I’m trying to get information on who the biggest bidder is and go from there. You?”

“There are some priceless Wakanda artifacts that were stolen. Made of pure vibranium, I’m here to get them back. But if you need my help, I will gladly assist and Wakanda is always open to help them heal.”

“Thank you.” You smile before you leave his side.

“Well now I feel better knowing T’Challa is there.”

“You and I are going to have a conversation about you doubting my fighting skills. Need I remind you that I’ve been training with you and Nat for the last two years?” Bucky stays silent on the line. “Thought so.”

“If everyone will take their seats the auction is about to start.” A blonde woman announced.

It felt like hundreds of items had been shown and yet the one thing you were here for wasn’t being put on display. There’s a light tap on your shoulder and you turn to see one of the guards from earlier behind you.

“Ms. Romano, the other auction is going to start. Please follow me.” He doesn’t wait for your response, instead he straightens up and starts walking toward a different door then where you came in.

You get up and follow him after looking over at T’Challa and Okoye, both of them had their eyes on you. The former gives you a quick nod in reassurance. The guard leads you to one of the empty banquet halls. Your gut is telling you that something is wrong, your earpiece has been too quiet. Bucky surely would have thrown a fit if he had seen you walking away toward a secluded section of the hotel with a hydra agent.

“Good evening Ms. Romano.” A tall, blond and sickly looking man steps out from within the shadows. “Or should I say agent Y/L/N.”

“Who? I don’t know anyone named Y/L/N. I’d like to go back to the auction .”

You turn to leave but are stopped by the guard that brought you down. He grips your upper arm, fingers digging into your flesh and turning you around.

“We have the item you so desperately want right here.” He says and out from the shadows walks out Bucky, completely restrained and with guns pointed at both him and now you.

You don’t react, instead acting unfazed by the fact that Bucky had been brought out like that. As you try to keep up appearances you look Bucky up and down, you see a few cuts and bruises, before looking at the blond man.

“Who is this supposed to be?”

“Tsk-tsk-tsk. I don’t like being lied to. You know very well who this is.” He pulls out a phone and shows you a picture of you and Bucky running a course on compound grounds. A picture of the date night you had planned, when you were laying in the back of the pick up truck. “How sweet that the winter soldier thought he could have a normal life, with a girlfriend and a daughter.”

Your stomach drops when he shows you multiple pictures of Charlotte running around happily. His smile is vile and what’s worse is that glimmer in his eyes as if he enjoyed it.

“You will do as I say or I will kill her slowly, in front of you.” He spoke in your direction while shaking his phone at you.

He turns back to Bucky and your eyes meet his. He’s livid, you could see it in his eyes. You both freeze when you hear your captor speaking Russian, specifically the words used to trigger and control the Winter Soldier.

“солдат?” (Soldier)

“я готов отвечать.” (Ready to comply) Bucky’s voice was monotone, his face neutral and his eyes looked empty.

“Kill her and then bring me back the child.”

The men that guns pointed at you lowered them and let Bucky go free. That was their third mistake, the first was asking Bucky to bring Charlotte to him and the second was for them to have Bucky kill you.

Bucky’s whole demeanor has changed but you don’t worry, you know those words can’t hurt him anymore. You look up at him once he’s standing in front of you. He brings his hand up around your throat and his thumb finds your pulse. It’s steady and even, you’re calm because you trust him and his eyes soften just a little. Bucky moves his hand from your throat and cups your cheek and all hell breaks loose.

He lunges at the guard behind you while you manipulate the pieces of metal on your dress. In Steve fashion you create a shield and stand in front of Bucky to protect both of you from the rain of bullets. With more of the metal on your dress you create small throwing knives which Bucky grabs and begins to use. You work in sync with Bucky, both of you fueled by anger at the thought of any harm coming to Charlotte. As you work your way through the room the man that had used the words against Bucky ran away but it didn’t stop either of you.

Once you’re done with the hydra agents you run out trying to find where the other man went.

“Are you looking for a sickly looking man?” You turn to see Okoye.

“Yes.”

“T’Challa is already chasing him, here.”

She hands Bucky a bracelet made of beads before she races off. You follow, there’s no way you can let that man live. Bucky grabs your hand and you both run to a motorcycle that’s parked nearby. You don’t have time to worry that you're in your dress, you hop on the back and hold on to Bucky who is using the beads to help him navigate.

Bucky weaves through traffic both to avoid innocent bystanders and the bullets of the hydra agents behind you. You throw spikes back which catch some of their tires, forcing them to drop out of the chase.

“I have eyes on your target Sergeant Barnes.” T’Challa’s voice comes over your now connected comms.

“Stop him, we can’t let him get away.”

“On it.”

When you finally reach T’Challa they already have the man you wanted restrained. The area was away from the busy part of the city which was good. No one needed to see what was about to happen. He sat on the ground with his arms behind his back. A little blood trickled and dried by his brow but otherwise he was uninjured.

“Sergeant, Agent.” T’Challa greeted you once you were close enough. His black panther suit was on except for his mask. “I believe this is who you were looking for.”

“Thank you, T’Challa.” You smiled at him.

“No need to thank me.”

“Where is the asset?” Bucky asked the man as he held a gun to his head.

He chuckles. “You’ve become such a disappointment, soldat.”

“And I’ll sleep just fine knowing I’ve disappointed you. Where is the asset?”

“He’s home of course, the same place you belong.”

Bucky looks over at you instinctively because if he belongs anywhere it’s next to you.

“How sweet, the soldat has a whore.”

“Watch your mouth.” Bucky pulls back and hits him with the butt of the gun.

The man chuckles. “The asset is a chip off the old block. He’d do anything for the people cares for too.”

Your eyes closed and the one thing you feared was true. This asset was Bucky’s child. It would be a race against time to find him and save him before hydra can either move or get rid of him for good. You see Bucky’s hand tremble slightly, he’s conflicted. He wants to pull the trigger but he also doesn’t want T’Challa to think he hasn’t changed. You step up, holding the gun you had strapped in your thigh holster to his head and pull the trigger. His body slumps to the side.

“What have you done? He could have given us more information.” Okoye lashes out at you.

“He threatened my daughter. No one gets to do that and live.”

“We had him, he wouldn’t have been able to follow through with that threat.”

“You don’t know that.” You grit out.

“Okoye, let’s go. We have done our part.” T’Challa says, he nods at Bucky and walks away.

Bucky pulls his phone out and makes a call but you’re not focused on what he’s saying. There’s a few things running through your mind. The first being Charlotte’s safety, the second was the worry for the asset hydra had, another Barnes child. You questioned how old they were and if they were now in danger.

Bucky put his hand on your lower back and guided you toward the motorcycle. Both of you silently got on just as a team of agents showed up to take care of the scene.

“We’ll have to go to a safe house for the night.” Bucky muttered over his shoulder.

“What? No, I want to go home, we have to make sure Lottie is safe.”

“She is sugar, Steve and Nat are with her.”

It wasn’t good enough but you wrapped your arms around him and let him drive you away anyways.

The safe house was a small cabin in the middle of nowhere. It had double protection thanks to Tony adding Stark security. During the drive up, Bucky had stopped to drop off the motorcycle and exchange it for a car that had your overnight bags. Neither of you said much on the ride over but Bucky didn’t let go of your hand until he parked the car.

You walk in first and inspect the cabin. Two bedrooms, one bathroom and a kitchen/living room area. Everything you would need to survive for a few weeks was available. The door closes and the sound of the lock gets your attention. The small cuts and bruises Bucky had sported earlier are already gone.

“Could you unzip me please?” You say as you turn around.

“Sure.”

You didn’t need his help, the zipper was metal, what you needed was to be close to him. You feel the warmth of his right hand hold on to the top of the dress while his left tugs the zipper down. The only sound in the room is the metal teeth coming undone, releasing you from the dress. Instead of letting you go, Bucky wraps his arms around you and places a kiss on your bare shoulder, then another until he moves from your neck to your cheek. You turn still in his arms and kiss him. Bucky’s hands move from your waist and as they roam the dress you’d been wearing slides down your body, the weight of the metal on it helping gravity. You stand in front of him in nothing but your heels, a pair of lacy panties and a thigh holster with a gun.

“You are so beautiful.” Bucky whispers as his eyes drink you in.

You pull him by his shirt until he’s standing in front of the couch and you give his chest a soft push. After quickly removing the holster from your thigh you sit on Bucky’s lap. Straddling him so that you’re face to face.

“Are you sure you want this?” Bucky asked as his hands traveled up from your thighs to your hips.

“Yes, I want you Bucky. Do you want this?”

He smiles up at you. “Of course I want you.”

One of his hands comes up and pulls you down so that he can kiss you again. You sigh happily against his lips. Hands roam as if you were mapping out each other's bodies for the first time. In one way it was, since making your relationship official this had been the last step you hadn’t taken. And in his movements you can feel the hesitancy.

Bucky wants more but he’s also worried, it’s been years since he’s been with a woman. He doesn't want your first time together to be awful, at least not for you. The super soldier is still getting used to being touched. Sometimes he still fights the urge to flinch when Steve pats him in the back or when Sam moves suddenly. But you’re gentle, you always have been. You’re doing it right now, even when he can see the desire and hunger in your eyes. You push the jacket he was wearing off of his shoulders gently and then reach for the hem of his black t-shirt. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and the uncertainty showed clear in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just,” he pops his left shoulder. “The scars. I don’t want you to feel disgusted by them.“

You kiss him softly and sweetly just like he deserves.

“I understand why you might feel like that but I’ve already seen your scars Bucky, they don’t disgust me.”

Bucky searches your face for any signs of insincerity but can’t find it. You smile when he lets go of your wrist and you tug his shirt off. Your lips trail his shoulder, kissing over the scars until they meet metal. Slowly you wander lower until you have to pull away. You stand and Bucky starts to push himself off the couch thinking you’d be going to the bedroom but you push him back down as you get on your knees. Your hands travel over Bucky’s broad chest and chiseled abs until they get to the button of his pants.

“Sugar,” his breath hitches as you undo the button and pull down the zipper. You palm his erection through his pants and he groans. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone and I sure as hell have never done this.”

You push up on your knees so that you’re in between his spread legs and you connect your lips to his again. His tongue slips into your mouth when you moan. Your tongue meets his in a dirty passionate dance. There’s a push and pull between you, the need to be closer to each other is overwhelming. He pulls back slightly as you both get some much needed air, Bucky rests his forehead against yours.

“I don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s not that.”

“So will you let me make you feel good?” You say as your hands move up and down his thick thighs.

He swallowed and then he nodded.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes.”

You smiled as your hands slid up his thigh and grabbed his pants, pulling them down. Bucky lifted his hips to help. His erection bobbed up against his abs and you licked your lips.

“So beautiful.” You murmured as you wrapped your hand around his impressive length.

Bucky’s breath hitches just by you moving your hand up and down slowly. You couldn’t wait to hear what types of noises he would make when you took him into your mouth.

You leaned forward and licked a long thick stripe from base to tip before swirling your tongue over the head of his cock. Bucky gripped the couch cushions as he watched you wrap your lips around his cock. Inch by inch you slowly move up and down. You started to move faster, hollowing out your cheeks as your hand moved down to cup his balls. Bucky’s hips thrusted forward and you hummed.

“Oh fuck sugar… feels good.” Bucky threw his head back as you changed from sucking his hardened length to swirling your tongue around the tip, picking up the beads of precum and humming in approval.

Just before you can take him in your mouth again Bucky pulls you up and crashes his lips against yours. His hands traveled down your sides and lower back until he was cupping your ass then he put his hands under your thighs and pulled you up so that you were straddling his lap again. Bucky made quick work of ripping your lacy, barely there panties off. He trailed kisses down your jaw and your neck until he reached your chest. With one hand Bucky cupped your beast, his thumb running over your already pebbled peak while he lavished your other breast with his tongue.

Lust blown eyes look up at you through dark lashes. You arch toward him and moan as he takes his time with your breast. Your hand reaches down between your bodies and you begin to line yourself up. Bucky has stopped what he’s doing as he looks down and watches you take all of him.

“Oh fuck.” Bucky groans as your wet heat wraps around him.

You kiss him again, softly pouring all of your love for him into it. His hands move up and down your side before they settle on your hips. A soft squeeze from him has you rolling your hips. As you continue to move you both kiss and moan. Hands roam freely but soon the urge for more takes over. You change your movements from rolling your hips to bouncing in his dick.

“Bucky.” You moan out as he moves a hand between your bodies. His thumb finds your clit and he starts forming quick circles.

“Fuck, you’re so close baby I can feel you. Are you gonna come for me?”

You nod frantically as you feel that fire deep in your belly grow until it consumes you. With a scream of his name you come undone. Bucky plants his feet and his grip on your hips tighten as he begins thrusting faster.

“I’m gonna fill you up. Do you want that sugar?”

“Yes, Bucky. Please…” Your nails dig into his back as he pushes you toward another orgasm.

“Give me one more.” He grunts as he continues his relentless pace. “Come with me, sugar.”

His words push you over the edge again, the second orgasm rips through you more intensity than the first. You fall against Bucky’s chest just as you feel his release fill you up just as he promised. He kisses your temple as you both try to catch your breaths.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Sugar.” Bucky says with a chuckle after a minute.

“Me? My legs are literally jelly right now. I couldn’t get up even if I wanted to.”

“Good thing you don’t have to.”

Bucky stands and you shriek before laughing. He heads towards the main bedroom and sets you down gently.

“It’s my turn to taste you.” He smirks before kissing down your chest.

A day later the jet lands safely on compound grounds and you can’t wait to get out and see your sweet Angel. Both you and Bucky can already hear Lottie giggling as the jet ramp automatically lowers.

“Dada. Mama!” Lottie yells when she sees you. She runs towards you with her arms open and fortunately she isn’t wearing her princess dress.

“There’s my sweet Angel.”

You kneel when she’s close enough and almost fall back once she jumps into your arms. It’s easy to forget she’s stronger than the average toddler when she looks so small and delicate. Still, you kiss her forehead and hold her tight as the memory of the hydra agent you killed the night before comes back. Lottie wiggles out of your arms and heads towards Bucky, who also wraps her up in a hug.

“Welcome back lovebirds.” Steve says as he gets closer. He hugs you first and places a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Unfortunately we have to head back out for another mission and it includes everyone. We’ll brief you on the way.”

“What? We just got here, and who’s going to look after Lottie?”

“That would be me.” Your dad walks out from the hallway that connects the hanger to the compound.

The other avengers walk out behind him and head toward the bigger jet. You however meet your dad halfway and accept his hug.

“Steve called me last night. You don’t have to worry about anything, me and my princess are just gonna hang out. We’ll be just fine.”

“Thanks dad.” You smile at him.

“Boom!” Lottie exclaims as Thor walks out.

“Lady Y/N, it’s great to see you again.” He smiles at you as he gets closer.

“Thor, when did you get back?”

“Yesterday afternoon. And I’m glad to be going into battle with my friends here.”

Bucky walked closer, a small scowl on his face as he saw you and Thor interacting.

“Thor, this is Bucky-“

“Ah yes, Steve’s oldest friend. We shall forge a great friendship on the battlefield if you are as fierce a warrior as I’ve been told.” He smiles at Bucky and then tickles Lottie. “I’ll see you both on the jet.”

“I don’t like him.”

“Bucky you don’t know him.”

“He was flirting with you, and making Lottie laugh.” He glares in the god’s direction.

Ed chuckles from beside both of you. “I’ll take my granddaughter now if you don’t mind.” Lottie happily goes with Ed and then stiffens.

The color drains from her face and you take her from your dad. You begin to pat her back in hopes of getting her to breathe. A few seconds pass before she sucks in a deep breath and then she starts to cry. Both you and Bucky take a moment to calm her.

“Bubba home.” She points at the jet.

You and Bucky look at each other concerned. Neither of you knew someone named Bubba.

“Hey, we have to go.” Sam calls from the door of the jet.

“We’ll be back as soon as possible. If that happens again-“

“I know, go to the medbay. I’ve raised a gifted child already. I can handle this.”

“Thanks dad.” You kiss his cheek and then Lottie’s.

“Keep her safe.”

“Of course I will.” Bucky nods at Ed once and then heads into the jet.

Once it’s in the air, Steve stands while a projection floats in the middle of the jet. He turns to both you and Bucky.

“We’ve found the location of hydra’s newest asset. They’re keeping him in Siberia.”

Bucky tenses when he hears the location. It’s where he was kept most of the time. Where the worst things happened to him. You intertwine your hand with his.

Bucky can only hope that the asset is hasn’t had to endure as much torture as he had.

Ch 12

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charzard-lord · 2 years

Text

Soothing Touch (Platonic!Avengers/Reader, implied Loki/Reader)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Fluff, comfort, language, slight pining

Pairings: Platonic!Avengers/Reader (with a focus on Bucky, Tony, and Natasha), implied Loki/Reader

Key: ☁️🧸🤝☂️

Summary: Whenever one of the Avengers is feeling down or in need of affection, they come to you for comfort. Everyone agrees that you have the most soothing touch. You will stroke their hair and sing/hum for them and it always helps them to relax. It has become a regular occurrence in the building, and sometimes, they will even fight over who gets to cuddle with you first. Loki is also quietly in love with you, but never acts on his feelings.

A/N: Hello! Almost a month again with no new posts! I know, I’m terrible at keeping up with this blog. I just haven’t really been inspired lately, but hopefully I’ll be posting more frequently. I have a few other fics in the works but hey! This is my first Marvel fic! So that’s exciting! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this fluffy little piece and thank you as always for interacting with my fics! :)

Today has been long and gruelling for everyone.

You and the rest of the team drag yourselves into the tower, exhausted from your most recent mission. Your enemies seemed more viscous than ever. You couldn’t wait to jump into your plush mattress and sleep for the next 15 hours.

As soon as you enter the tower, everyone retires to their respective rooms, except for one. You notice that Bucky has stayed behind, throwing himself onto the living room sofa. Even though you’re tired, curiosity wins the battle, and you find yourself walking towards him.

“Hey,” you say softly. Bucky grunts in response and you lower yourself into the seat next to him. A moment passes before you speak again.

“Is everything alright?” you can sense that something is bothering him, but you don’t want to overstep your boundaries. You’ve gotten pretty close with everyone in the building, but Bucky is more reserved than the others.

Instead of answering, he pulls you flush to his chest and wraps his arms around your back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You’re surprised at first, but quickly melt into his touch, smiling fondly. You stroke his hair and hum quietly.

This is not unusual for you. In fact, it’s become the norm around here. Whenever one of the Avengers is feeling down, they always come to you for comfort. Sometimes, they even fight over who gets to cuddle with you first. They all claim you have the most soothing touch, the kind that could ease any pain.

You gladly comply every time, grateful that you’re able to offer your support. After all, they’re the people who took you in when you had nowhere else to go. You’ll do anything to return the favor.

You stay like this for a long while before Bucky finally releases you, pressing a tender kiss between your brows.

“Thank you,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against your own. You smile and close your eyes.

“Any time,” you reply, before moving away and standing.

“Well, I’m tired as fuck, so I’m gonna go hit the hay,” Bucky chuckles at your words.

“Don’t let Steve hear you say that,” he replies, and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever. Goodnight, Buck,”

“Goodnight, angel,”

With that, you retreat to your room and settle in for the night.

***

The next few days pass rather uneventfully. You haven’t had any missions so you’ve mostly been taking time to yourself, either to train or just relax. Today, you’ve decided to sit down and sketch in the living room. You have one of your favorite playlists on in the background, bopping your head along to the music as you doodle.

You hear the elevator doors open and look up to see that three of your teammates have returned from their most recent escapade. Something about a street robber. They didn’t think it serious enough to drag you along. Usually, they only brought you in for the really big missions. You were one of the team's most powerful assets and they wanted to save your skills for when they really needed them.

“Hello! We have returned! How are you doing on this fine day?” Thor addresses you, beaming widely. You return the gesture and stand, turning off the music. You look behind him to see a very disgruntled Loki and a less than pleased Natasha. Something must’ve happened.

“I’m doing alright. How about you guys? How did your mission go?” you say, eyeing Loki. He stares back and you can tell that something is weighing on his mind.

“Boring. Just some kid, stealing people’s wallets. He was only 16,” Nat says, walking to the fridge and grabbing an energy drink.

“Ah,” you reply, unsure what else to say.

“Right, well, Thor and I have to meet with Tony to discuss some business. You mind keeping an eye on Mr. Tricks?” you stifle a laugh at Nat’s nickname for Loki.

“Sure,” you nod, and the two walk off, leaving you alone with the God of Mischief.

You stare at each other for a moment before you burst into laughter, causing him to regard you incredulously.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just-” you stifle another laugh as you look up at him.

“Mr. Tricks?” you’re barely able to say it before you double over in a fit of giggles once more.

“It’s not that funny,” he mutters, but there is a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you smile fondly, gently taking his hand and leading him to sit on the couch next to you.

It’s only been a little less than a year since the New York incident, so not many people fully trust him yet. He had been given a choice: either rot in a cell on Asgard, or help the Avengers as a form of community service to atone for his crimes. He chose the latter.

Loki looks around for a moment, as if to make sure the two of you are truly alone, before leaning closer to you.

“May I?” he asks, extending his arms.

“You may,” you reply, and he envelops you in a warm embrace.

He would never want anyone else to see him like this; he would be mortified. But you’re the one person he trusts in this whole compound, the only one who seems to see him for who he really is. He finds comfort in your touch, maybe a little too much comfort, but it’s comfort nonetheless.

He buries his face in your shoulder and inhales deeply, trying to embed your scent into his memory. It’s not often that he gets to hold you like this. The only times he can, are when the two of you are completely alone, which doesn’t happen very often.

It seems that everyone is always scrutinizing his every move, just waiting for him to make a mistake or do something that would allow them to lock him up forever. But now that he’s found you, he never wants to leave. Not that he’d ever admit that.

“Hey, I have an idea,” you say, and Loki pulls away to look at your face.

“And what’s that?” he asks, tenderly tucking a stray hair behind your ear. He revels in the way your cheeks flush at the simple action, wishing he could bottle up this moment and live in it forever.

You move away from him, eliciting a perplexed look from the god. Readjusting yourself, you lay on the chaise at the end of the sofa and beckon him to come over. He just looks at you, an eyebrow raised in uncertainty, causing you to chuckle softly.

“Come lay in my lap. I can stroke your hair and sing for you,” Loki can’t help the surprised squeak that escapes him, as a blush starts rising to his own cheeks.

“What?” his voice comes out a pitch higher than normal, but you don’t comment on it.

“I do this for the others all the time. They always say it helps them relax. C’mon,” you pat your lap and Loki can’t help the pang of jealousy he feels at your mention of the Avengers. He pushes it down, however, and manages to seat himself between your thighs, back pressed flush against your chest.

He closes his eyes and forces himself to relax as you begin running your delicate fingers through his long black hair. You hum softly, a beautiful melody that he recognizes but can’t quite place his finger on, and continue to lull him into a sweet slumber.

You can feel Loki’s presence getting heavier, his body relaxing more and more as he lets his full weight rest on you. A fond smile grows on your face. It makes you happy to know that he trusts you so completely. He has always been so guarded. It’s good that he finally feels safe with someone, and you’re infinitely grateful that that someone is you.

His breathing becomes deeper and you take this time to admire his sharp features. The curve of his jaw, the shape of his nose, the color of his lips. Everything about him is… bewitching. He is a god, after all, so you shouldn’t really be surprised, but his beauty still manages to take your breath away. When you first met him, you found it to be intimidating. But after getting to know him, you realized that he is just another lost soul looking to be found.

Just when you think Loki has finally relaxed fully, a crowd of voices can be heard getting closer. He quickly jumps up, removing himself from your lap and sitting as far away as possible. You giggle, causing him to shoot you a look, just as the rest of your teammates come around the corner.

Tony calls your name and you turn your attention to him.

“How was babysitting duty? Did ‘Mr. Tricks’ give you any trouble?” he asks, smirking as he watches Loki’s flustered reaction.

“Do not call me by that ridiculous nickname, you despicable cretin” he spits, standing and clenching his fists in anger.

“It was fine, Tony. No problems at all,” you say with a smile, hoping to diffuse some of the tension.

“Great! Now that that’s all settled, I need your magic touch,” he says, making his way over to you.

Loki steps in front of him, glaring fiercely.

“Is there a problem, ‘Mr. Tricks’?” Tony says, clearly just trying to get on the gods' nerves at this point.

Loki stares him down for a moment longer, before you reach out and place a gentle hand on his arm. He looks down, first at your hand, then over to you. He searches your face and something in his expression softens. He sighs, and steps aside, allowing Tony to pass through. With one last glance back at you, he briskly exits the room.

“I don’t know how you do that, but damn, is it effective,” Nat says, walking past Tony and crawling into your lap.

“Hey! I called first dibs!” Tony protests, but Nat doesn’t budge.

“First come, first serve,” she says simply, cuddling up closer to you. Tony looks to you for help, but you simply shrug your shoulders and begin stroking Nat’s hair, humming a new tune.

“C’mon! That’s not fair!” Tony whines, but you shush him.

“Be quiet. You’ll get your turn,” you smile teasingly at him. He keeps pouting silently, attempting to throw puppy eyes your way.

“Nuh-uh, not gonna work,” you say, turning your attention back to Natasha, who is already starting to fall asleep. A fond smile worms its way onto your features as you continue to run your fingers through her hair.

Eventually, she succumbs to her exhaustion, snoring softly. You let her rest for a few minutes. Then, you gently shake her.

“Nat,” you whisper, “it’s time to get up,”

She groans and buries her face into your stomach. You laugh.

“Nat, I’m serious. Other people are waiting their turn,” she just grumbles something incoherent and wraps her arms around your waist.

“Okay, I’m not waiting any longer,” Tony says, marching over and pulling out his phone. He types something in and before you can ask what he’s doing, AC/DC starts blasting throughout the tower.

Nat sighs before removing herself from your lap. She places a gentle kiss to your forehead as thanks, then turns to glare at Tony. He holds up his hands in defense as Nat grabs his phone and shuts off the music. She throws the device down onto the coffee table and drops herself into a chair next to Steve.

“Someone’s moody,” he mutters, turning his attention back to you with a smile.

“If you’re gonna be an asshole, I’ll let somebody else go first,” you warn, but Tony just shrugs it off, crawling onto the couch and laying his head against your chest. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you begin the same treatment you gave Loki and Nat.

This continues until everyone has gotten a turn cuddling with you. By the time you finish, you’re exhausted and in desperate need of sleep.

“Thank you, again,” Nat says, and everyone makes noises of agreement. You smile and regard them all with fondness.

“Any time,” you say, and everyone retreats to bed.

#avengers x reader #marvel x reader #tony stark x reader #bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #thor odinson x reader #steve rogers x reader #fluff #comfort #marvel fluff #avengers fluff #fanfiction #reader insert #original work

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