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lightupthemoon · 2 years

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Never Let Go

Summary: You had foolishly believed that the holidays away from New York City would do you wonders to forget the feelings you carried in your heart but it hadn’t even been ten minutes since you stepped out of the train station and all you could think about was Kate Bishop.

Warnings: None, just friends to lovers and fluff.

Word count: around 1.6k

Read on AO3

Author's Note: I am the softest human being ever for Kate Bishop and there is not enough content for her, so I gotta do it myself! Enjoy, guys!

The cool mid-winter air filled your lungs, your breath visible to you as you exhaled. You had foolishly believed that the holidays away from New York City would do you wonders to forget the hidden feelings you carried in every inch of your heart but it hadn’t even been ten minutes since you stepped out of the train station and all you could think about was Kate Bishop.

You hadn’t heard much from her since the Bell Tower incident. It wasn’t unusual for her to disappear after one of her mishaps, and for once, you were thankful for her silence. You weren’t sure of when or how your feelings for her changed–you just remembered seeing her make herself at home in your apartment one evening after class, having a moment of realization as she rambled about some charity event her mother wanted her to attend, dark brown locks of hair falling on her face as she spoke. The ocean in her eyes were waves of mischief, and your heart leaped in your chest at the sight of them.

You couldn’t deny your feelings after that even if you tried. Her energetic personality drew you in like a moth to a flame, oftentimes catching yourself smiling like an idiot watching her do mundane things you had seen her do a million times before. Kate wasn't particularly akin to physical touch unless she felt extremely comfortable, and after so many years of friendship, Kate was constantly pulling you in her arms. With the way your body reacted to her touch, you cursed the day you became each other’s person.

It became extremely easy for your thoughts to drift into a fantasy world where she also shared your feelings, and it was too painful to come back to a reality where Kate Bishop wasn’t meant to be anything more than your closest friend. You needed to step away, so you went home for the holidays.

You arrived at your apartment after a short taxi ride, and despite enjoying your time away with your family, you were so happy to be home. You left your suitcase by the door and went to your room to get changed. As you slipped into something more comfortable, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and let your thumb hover over the contact name Hawkling followed by a purple heart and the bow and arrow emoji, pondering the idea of calling Kate and letting her know you were back in the city, not that she knew you left in the first place. You sighed, about to press call when a loud knock on your door startled you.

"Coming!" You yelled from your room, imagining it would be your landlord giving you your mail.

You swung the door open, the faintest flash of purple the last thing you saw before you were engulfed in the tightest hug, your traitorous heart letting you know who it was immediately.

"Kate," You whimpered in the strength of her embrace, snaking your arms around her waist.

She buried her face in the crook of your neck, "Where were you?" Kate asked, her voice muffled by your shirt, the vibrations making you shudder.

You closed your eyes, trying to keep it together. "I went home for the holidays."

"I missed you so much."

Your stomach fluttered with her words, a deep sensation of warmth filling you up. Kate drew back to look at you, and it was then that you saw the deep sadness in her eyes, as if she was carrying the entire world on her shoulders. You brought your hands to her face, lightly stroking her cheeks with your thumbs.

"What's wrong?"

She huffed out a teary laugh. "Do I look that bad?"

"No, of course not, you're beautiful," you brushed her off. "It's just–you seem sad."

A pink hue covered her cheeks, and she looked down. "There's been a lot going on."

You grabbed her hand and she looked back at you, the deep ocean of her eyes as tender as ever. You closed the door behind her, pulling her in the direction of the living room so she could sit and tell you what she was up to in your absence.

She told you everything. From meeting her idol to fighting bad guys to having her mother arrested, every word you listened to felt heavier than the last. The more she said, the closer she seemed to move towards you, practically sitting on your lap with her head safely tucked in the crook of your neck by the time she finished telling you her story between quiet sniffles.

"Oh, Kit-Kat, I'm so sorry you had to deal with all that," you lamented, your hands softly rubbing her back. "You shouldn't have gone through that all alone, I wish I was–"

"No," Kate interrupted you. "I am glad you weren't."

You knew it shouldn't have, but her words felt like a knife to your heart, twisting. "Oh," you looked down, chewing on your lip. "You're right. I'm sure Hawkeye was a better company for this sort of thing."

"What? No," Kate furrowed her eyebrows. "That's not what I meant. I am glad you weren't here because I don't think I could have gotten through it knowing you were in danger."

"Well, still, I'm never leaving you again," You pointed out, pressing a fleeting kiss to her temple. "I'll take care of you while you take care of New York, okay?"

Kate pulled back from your embrace to look at you, her eyes glimmering in a way you had never seen before. For a split second, you could have sworn she looked down at your lips, but it was so brief you weren't sure it actually happened. For all you knew, it was your imagination, playing tricks on you again. Your heart thundered in your chest, the silence making it speed up, and it was when you realized her face seemed closer to yours. The tip of her nose bumped with yours, her sapphire gaze searching for any sign of doubt in your eyes.

You thought it was a lie, feeling a kiss on every part of your body. You had kissed enough people to know it was nice, fun even, but it wasn't life-changing or time-stopping in any way. It was just a lie to sell romance novels and movies. But then they were; fireworks. A blown-out fourth of July extravaganza exploded inside you as Kate's lips met yours in a kiss, effectively snatching the air out of your lungs. Kate cupped your face with her hands, sighing contently as you kissed her back, your arms immediately circling her frame. Your lips moved in sync, dancing in a new rhythm that felt familiar somehow.

A part of you was fully convinced this was all a dream, a cruel fantasy giving you everything you had ever wanted only to disappear as soon as you opened your eyes. You kept them tightly shut, enjoying every second of it. If it was a dream, you'd make the most of it. Kate brushed her tongue over your bottom lip, testing the waters, and your mouth parted open, giving her enough space to slide past your teeth. She explored your mouth, a moan escaping your throat when her tongue met yours. The archer shuffled in your lap, adjusting her position to kiss you better, and her weight on you felt so right there was no way it wasn't real.

You resented your lungs for needing air, reluctantly pulling away. With your eyes still closed, you allowed yourself to savor the moment, your heart beating a thousand miles per hour. You felt Kate's thumbs stroking your cheeks gently, her nose nuzzling the tip of yours. The archer left a quick kiss on your lips again, before pressing her forehead to yours. Your eyes fluttered open, the soft blue staring back at you making you dizzy.

"Hi," was the only thing you could manage to say.

"Hi," Kate smiled.

"You kissed me."

"I did."

"Why?" You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, your expression making her giggle. "Not that I'm complaining, because I absolutely am not, it's just that–"

"Y/N," Kate stopped you, brushing your cheeks with her thumbs again. "I almost died in the last few weeks, several times. My world was turned upside down. And all I could think about was how, if I died, I wouldn't get to tell my best friend how I felt because I was scared I'd ruin our friendship."

"What?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"I'm in love with you, Y/N, I've always been." Kate's voice shook at the end, her gaze now seeming nervous. "That's why I kissed you."

"Oh."

You could tell that your silence was unnerving Kate, but she waited patiently, not moving even an inch from her spot in your lap. A part of you still believed this was a dream, the most ridiculous of them all. But the youngest Bishop was looking at you with those damn blue eyes, expectantly, scared, so full of love. You saw the scrapes and scars on her face, gifts from her battles without you, and you wanted nothing more but to kiss her pain away.

"Listen, I don't want to ruin our friendship so if I overstepped and I'm making you uncomfortable, please, just say so and I'll go, I never want to make you uncomfortable. You know what, I'm just gonna go and we can pretend that this never happened, and we can go ba–"

You pulled her in for another kiss before she could even attempt to move, hoping you could convey in that simple action all that she made you feel. Kate squealed in surprise, throwing her arms around your neck to kiss you back. You knew right then, that you'd never let her go.

TAGLIST: @imlike-so-gaydude @sunshadesnrainbowz @ittynyte @hopingforromanoff

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x gender neutral reader #kate bishop fluff #marvel fanfiction #hawkeye series #hawkeye #writing #never let go

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arofili · 2 years

Text

Never Let Go

for @foxindarkness & Kinktober Day 19: Praise Kink!

[ao3] - rated E, 1.1k words, Celebrimbor/Annatar/Maeglin

“Annatar,” Celebrimbor gasped, thrusting up into the wet heat of the Maia’s mouth. “Ai, Annatar, darling... You’re so good at this—Annatar...”

Annatar’s eyes glazed over, and he sucked more fervently than ever. Tyelpë was so gentle, moving so slowly in his mouth, the hand in his hair guiding rather than possessive. He felt warm and safe, like his fána could dissolve into nothing but pure pleasure.

(It had never been like this before, with Melkor.)

Behind him he felt strong hands, smaller than Celebrimbor’s caressing his back. “He is beautiful,” Maeglin breathed. “I...thank you for sharing him, Tyelpë, I could not...”

Annatar hummed, and Tyelpë’s response turned into a choked cry. Annatar liked to be treated like he belonged to Celebrimbor, that he was something Tyelpë could loan out to be used. It was his purpose, his place as a Maia...and Tyelpë was so good to him. Tyelpë cared. Tyelpë made sure the only people who used him were good, too, like sweet Lómion and his careful, eager exploration of Annatar’s fána.

“He was eager to submit to you,” Celebrimbor said when he composed himself enough to speak. “Go on, Lómion, take what he is offering. He is ready for you.”

Maeglin hesitated only a moment longer, than ran his fingers down Annatar’s back and dipped them into his folds. Annatar moaned deliciously, purposefully encouraging his fána to open for Maeglin, his hole wet and welcoming for him.

Maeglin let out a soft cry. “Ai, Annatar,” he said. “You are so—”

“He likes to be praised,” Tyelpë said, patting Annatar’s head. “Tell him how good he is.”

Annatar moaned again and was rewarded with a firm thrust from Celebrimbor deep into his throat. Then Maeglin pressed his finger into his hole, and he pushed back eagerly, yearning to be filled.

“I did not know he could—” Maeglin sounded hungry. “Annatar, you are a marvel. Can I... Might I...”

For just a moment, Annatar pulled off Celebrimbor’s cock to turn the molten heat of his gaze to Maeglin. “Please fuck me,” he purred. “Please, please...I need it. I need your cock in me. Please.”

Maeglin’s mouth fell open into a perfect o, and Annatar noted how pretty his lips were. Subtly, he shaped his own mouth to match, plumping up his lips in mimicry of Maeglin’s. Ai, what he would do to see Tyelpë thrusting into that mouth...

Later, darling, Tyelpë murmured in his mind. And you may have a turn, also.

Then Maeglin kissed him, and Annatar sucked eagerly at his tongue, only for Tyelpë to tug him back, kissing him hard and moaning how he could taste Maeglin on him, could taste himself—

But Annatar barely noticed, for Maeglin had spread his legs and at last entered him, his cock sliding home deep into Annatar, right where he most desired it.

Annatar cried out, and his noises were swallowed by Tyelpë’s mouth. Maeglin whined, gripping his hips tightly, and thrust in again, and again, each time making stars burst behind Annatar’s eyes. The joys of the flesh were boundless, he had learned, and not from his master. No, it was the elves who knew how to make him feel good, beautiful, needed, precious...

“So hot,” Maeglin panted. “So wet—and loose—”

“Oh?” Tyelpë tutted. “Annatar, is that how we treat our guests? Does he not deserve more...friction?”

“I—I had hoped,” Annatar stammered, “well, I had thought...”

“Oh,” Tyelpë laughed, catching the edge of his thought. “How creative, dear one. Yes, I think that can be arranged... Lómion, if you would...?”

And then he was lifted up and rearranged so he sat astride Maeglin’s lap, that beautiful cock pressing even further inside. Annatar moaned, squirming and clenching and bouncing and doing everything he could to please his lover, Tyelpë’s friend. Maeglin trembled at the onslaught of sensation, and Annatar trembled to know he did a good job.

“Slow, slow,” Tyelpë murmured, and reached down to stroke Annatar, calming him. His hands were so big, so strong...Annatar melted into him as he settled behind, and purred to be enveloped in that warm embrace, trapped between two beautiful, caring elves.

Then Celebrimbor pressed him forward, even closer to Maeglin’s chest. Annatar moaned, and kissed him, distracting Maeglin as Celebrimbor pushed in beside him, and then—

He was full, so very full, and Maeglin shouted as Celebrimbor filled Annatar alongside him.

“Tyelpë,” he groaned. “Tyelpë, I can feel you—you feel so—so good—”

“Lómion,” Tyelpë sighed, and ground deep into Annatar’s body, rubbing their cocks together.

“Is that t-tight enough for you?” Annatar whimpered, clenching around them both.

Tyelpë turned his head to kiss him, and then Maeglin was leaning in to join them, three mouths meeting even as they began to find a rhythm inside him. Annatar throbbed as he rocked between them, utterly full, utterly at their mercy.

(He had taken bigger before, and more than two at once. Whatever his master willed—whatever his malleable fána could take. But his lovers took no delight in hurting him: this time they wanted him to feel good; this time it was an expression of joy, not power.)

“So good, so tight, so beautiful,” Tyelpë murmured, and Maeglin echoed him.

“So good,” he growled, thrusting hard, and Celebrimbor moaned at the friction. “So fucking pretty—Annatar—”

“He is the best of all treasures, the most precious,” Celebrimbor declared, and felt between Annatar’s legs with his perfect hands. Annatar wept openly, though not in the way of mortals: song spilled out from him, and a faint light, and he knew he was close.

“Please,” he begged. “Tyelpë—Lómion—”

“Oh, darling,” Tyelpë whispered. “Come whenever you’d like, my sweet. We will follow your lead.”

“Yes, yes—” and Annatar came, falling apart around them, shaking and spilling and gleaming brighter and brighter. Maeglin came soon after, dragged along by his release, and Annatar moaned at the feeling of seed spilled inside him, took it and cherished it, saved it for later.

Tyelpë kept thrusting, until Maeglin whined with sensitivity, and Annatar was limp in their arms, and then he too fell over the edge, filling Annatar to the brim. Celebrimbor’s seed he saved, also, in case he was ever taken from him. Annatar would do anything to protect him—and Lómion, too, now that he had seen the beauty of his soul—but should he fail, he would keep a piece of them with him. Perhaps he could even build them anew.

But for now he was cradled in their arms, even as they pulled out of him and laid him down in Tyelpë’s bed. Lómion held him, caressing his skin, murmuring praises as Tyelpë gently cleaned them all.

“So good, so kind, so beautiful,” Tyelpë murmured, crawling into bed beside them. He and Maeglin kissed over Annatar’s head, and Annatar glowed with love and contentment.

For love it was, and he would never let them go.

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