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bigtreefest · 1 month

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Chapter 5: From the Ground Up

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: It’s time for Bucky to take charge in your absence.

Word count: 4,065

Content/warnings: Interrogation, restraints (not in the sexy way), allusions to violence, swears, name calling, pet name usage, female reader, kissing, horseback riding?

Author’s Note: I REALLY loved writing this chapter. This is where we start to see the other storylines of the Outta Nowhere AU emerge, so keep an eye out as those get released.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky was mad-no, he was seething as he paced back and forth in your home office. It was in the wee hours of the morning when his private jet had landed on the local airstrip. Within that same hour, Sam had personally escorted in the little nerd responsible for a good third of the turmoil going on in Bucky’s head: Jake.

Sam had taken the liberty of pre-binding his hands and duct taping his mouth shut. Bucky was going to enjoy ripping the goatee straight off his mousy little face.

Five hours ago

As soon as Steve had gotten off the phone with Bucky, he called the construction crew. They kept them on call for things like this, but the two of them never thought the stakes would be this high. It wasn’t often that someone important and non-expendable was put in this type of danger, let alone someone Bucky cared about. As he was finishing up the call and directing them towards your house, Sam reached out to him with a sticky note.

On it was a name and the address to an apartment in the city, along with Sam’s scrawled ‘pick her up on your way over.’ Steve nodded as he hung up his call and placed another, grabbing the duffel bag he kept packed by the door and heading out.

Three Hours Later

Bucky hadn’t left your side since the rocks collapsed. Luckily, the two of you had been able to find a small gap in the rocks where you both sat. It wasn’t large enough to keep air circulating, but it was big enough to at least allow the two of you to talk with each other. You and Bucky had shared so much, from him sharing his first business operation with Steve, to you detailing crazy college stories of when you, your roommate, and Curtis would hang out.

Bucky laughed along. There was a whole side of you he never knew. He had studied intently what showed up on paper, and he knew the hardships you’d faced from your deep conversation last week, but this? This was a whole new, more playful side. He was surprised to see your spirits so high despite the situation.

“I do not believe that one bit. No way you were climbing up clock towers at school just to steal the clock hands, or a random brick or whatever. You’re too straight-laced.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes as you leaned your head back against the stone wall. “Oh please, people already pay so much to go there, if anything, I had more than the right to do it. Our money pays for that stuff. Technically we owned it. Not the school.”

Bucky snorted. “You didn’t even pay tuition. Didn’t they pay you to go there?”

“That’s besides the point, Bucket. Fight the man. And anyway, if you think I’m straight laced, you should meet my roommate.”

Bucky grimaced. “Yeah, about that. She’s on her way here right now.”

Your ears perked up. “Decks is on the way? Oh, that’s good. She’ll be super helpful. She’s so organized, although, I can’t imagine she took well to whoever had to interrupt her beauty sleep. Who’s the poor guy?”

Bucky sharply inhaled. “Steve.”

“Oooo hooo hoo.” You laughed. “That’ll be a fun one for both of them. They’re either gonna love or hate each other. What are all the rest of the ETAs?”

Bucky looked at his watch. Well, really, he had been checking his watch this whole time to monitor his pulse, which was over 100 consistently since the tunnel buckled. He was shaking with concern for you, but kept his voice level to keep you calm, a trick he and Steve had worked tirelessly to master. “Ummm… looks like the construction crew should be here within the hour. And I’ll bet Decks and Steve will be pulling up any minute.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. “Anyone else coming that I should know about? So I can figure out where they’ll best fit around the farm? Decks is great with the animals.”

You hadn’t heard all of Bucky’s or Curtis’s phone calls earlier since they stepped out of the cave to make them with better reception. Bucky didn’t want you to know Jake was on the way, mostly because he knew you’d make him promise not to hurt the rat, and he didn’t want to have to make that promise with the high likelihood it would be broken. He decided a better move would be to change the subject.

“So where did the nickname ‘Decks’ come from anyway?”

“Oh! Well it’s actually-“

Bucky heard footsteps near the mouth of the mine. He did his best to politely cut you off. “Wait, Honey, I’m so sorry, quiet for one second.”

He sat there and silently listened, the rustling becoming closer and clearer until he identified it as hooves clopping gently against the soft ground. He heard Curtis’s voice say something vaguely before he moved to get his feet underneath him and brush off his pants.

“I think Curtis is here with Steve and Decks. I don’t want anyone else to come in, just in case it’s still too unstable. Can you tell me exactly what you need them to do?”

You nodded, even though you knew Bucky couldn’t see it and began to lay out the instructions. Decks and Steve weren’t here to clean out the tunnels, they were here to help keep the farm running until you were freed, and no one knew how long that would take. It was best to keep only those who could be closely trusted around until this was all figured out. God forbid the authorities come knocking, or worse yet, Cole. Bucky held onto your every word before briefly leaving the tunnel to relay the information.

Bucky returned to you shortly after instructing Curtis to take Steve and Decks back to the house so they could rest before their long day tomorrow. Everything needed to run as smoothly as possible to not raise suspicion from your absence, which they were going to claim was due to a corn crop farmer’s conference out in Iowa if anyone asked.

After another hour with you, Bucky let you know the construction company arrived and was starting to stabilize the ceiling so they could dig you out. “I’ve gotta go deal with some business, so I’ll be back soon. Plus, I can’t get in the way of these vehicles. But say the word to one of the crew and I’ll be back here in a minute flat. I promise.”

Bucky’s promises meant a lot. That was something you had learned in your conversations. He never said something unless he had a plan to deliver. A man’s word was everything in his line of work.

“Okay, I’m going to hold you to that!” You yelled back.

Bucky chuckled. “I’m going to send Sam back here as soon as he arrives. He’ll keep you company.” And with that, Bucky made his way back to the house.

So this is where Bucky found himself, walking back and forth menacingly behind Jake, who had been tied down to the guest chair in your office. Jake’s eyes shifted back and forth with nervousness as he tried and failed to hold back whimpers and near-hyperventilating breaths.

Bucky had been silent for only ten minutes. He liked the way it made them squirm. He could sit and stare all day, completely unbothered, as anyone he interrogated slowly lost their mind. Of course, there were other, more fun ways, to get information, but he wouldn’t dare mark up your home. He’d never let the one they called ‘The Winter Soldier’ be unleashed in your sanctuary. This is the closest he would ever get, though, and it would never be seen by you.

Bucky stalked around Jake and crouched in front of him. “A milk maid came in here and told me that you’d given him information about this farm. Care to share?”

Jake shook his head vigorously and whined through the duct tape over his mouth. Bucky leaned in closer. What was more terrifying than being yelled at by him? Bucky with an alarmingly level voice.

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite catch that. I can help you talk a little better, but you’ve gotta be quiet. There are people upstairs sleeping, and I can’t guarantee they’ll be as nice as me if you wake them. Promise to be good?”

Jake nodded carefully and slowly. Bucky reached for the tape at the corner of Jake’s mouth and ripped it off quickly. Jake’s head lurched forward, his mouth open with a silent scream between gasping breaths. Bucky examined the sticky side of the tape. There was no hair on it. The steam from Jake’s mouth must’ve reduced the stickiness just enough that it didn’t cause damage. Shame.

Bucky slammed his hands over Jake’s on the armrests of the chair. “Tell me everything.” He gritted out between clenched teeth.

Jake giggled uncomfortably. “Uh….there’s not really much to know, mister…sir….does this have to do with Peach? I thought she owned this farm now. Where is she?”

Bucky growled. “That’s not important right now, but yes, this is about this farm. Tell me everything you told the guy with the soft hands and the jackets that were too crisp to indicate a day of work in his whole life.”

Bucky had no intention to associate that with his own designer crisp suits that he wore everyday back in the city. That was different, it was a totally separate line of work, plus, he wasn’t trying to pose as something that he’s not when he wore them. Anyway, he’s not the one on trial here.

“Oh! You mean Cole? Fucking prick.” Jake mumbled looking down and to the side. “I can promise whatever he said to you was a lie. That guy’s always been awful. He hides a demon face behind his handsomeness.”

Bucky didn’t want to be on Jake’s side, but he couldn’t argue with that. But to keep him talking, Bucky leaned in closer, moving his hand towards the knife on his belt loop. Jake flinched and raised his hands in surrender as much as he could with his wrists tied down.

“Okay, okay, I promise I didn’t say much. At least not on purpose. I was at an investors party up in San Francisco when Cole bumped into me. He was bragging about how he had just inherited his parents’ company and it was way bigger than when we were in high school. Frankly, I didn’t care, I make an effort to forget about a lot from back then, mostly him, so I tried to disprove him by saying that there are still nice little farms around despite his family’s efforts. I told him I still had my mom buy me honey that Peach makes, herself.” He hung his head in shame.

Bucky huffed as he leaned back against your desk and crossed his arms. “Well, way to go. You know, they painted you to be some genius, but you’re an absolute idiot.”

Jake looked up and scrunched his nose. “Well I actually prefer the term loser, bu-“

Bucky raised his hand to stop Jake from talking. “I really don’t care. What matters is that you’ve made a mess for Honeybee that inconveniences all of us. I’ve gotta be the one to work on cleaning this up while she’s otherwise occupied.”

Jake cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow in confusion. “Who the fuck is ‘Honeybee?’ Are we talking about the same person?”

Bucky sighed and wiped a hand over his face, stopping with it covering his mouth. He looked at the helpless man in front of him. How had you ever dated this guy? If he used to be great, what on Earth happened to him? “God, you’re slow to catch on. Yes, it’s the same person, but I don’t think the sweet peach you used to know and love is in there anymore. Not after you abandoned her. And especially not after you gave up her operation on a silver platter to Cole.”

Jake swallowed as he caught on. He had seen the devious glint in Cole’s eye when they had run into each other, but just thought it was a product of Cole’s braggadocious success. Not his complete hunger for domination. Despite the way Jake left, he still cared for you. He didn’t want to see the thing you loved taken away, especially by the guy who caused him so much grief. The guy your family defended him from on so many occasions. He felt awful. You’d taken care of Jake when he was around, but when the opportunity came for him to do the same for you, he failed.

Tears began to well up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Whatever I can do to help, I will, please, misterrrr…….”

Bucky’s shoulders pushed back in arrogance. Jake squealed all the information he had and didn’t even know the name of the man interrogating him. That wouldn’t do, especially if Bucky wanted to eventually release Jake back out into the wild once this was all over. He made a mental note to have someone coach Jake on how to not give up sensitive intel so easily. But for now, Bucky would take advantage of the ease of informational access.

“Barnes. You get to call me Barnes.”

“Ooh! So like a cool nickname only I get to use? I feel so special.”

Bucky chuckled dryly at that. Jake really was clueless. “No. Not at all like that.” Bucky leaned forward, elbows on his knees as his face inched closer to Jake’s.

“Now tell me everything you know about the mines.”

Jake’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? Those old things? Yeah, Peach and I used to make out in the-“

Bucky waved his hand again as he closed his eyes, unable to look at Jake for another second. “No. Skip that part. What else?” He quickly said, dismissively.

“I know they’re old? Like crazy old and probably prone to collapse at this point. But Pe- I mean, your Honeybee does some occasional civil engineering contracting work. She could probably easily whip up a plan to reinforce them.”

Bucky looked at Jake more intently. He liked the way Jake said his Honeybee, but he couldn’t let that distract him right now. And anyway, you were very much your own person. Far from his. If anything, he was yours. He knew about all your business endeavors, but not those kinds of specifics. “Keep talking.”

“Yeah, I kept up with her after school-well, more like I asked my mom to keep up with her. Apparently she’s like, designed bridges for town and stuff. Why? What’s going on with the mines?”

“That’s not technically your business.” Bucky stood there, debating on his next move.

Jake’s eyes lit up as he gasped loudly. “Oh my gosh. Is she in trouble!? Did she get hurt in a mine!?”

Bucky slapped his hand over Jake’s mouth and whisper yelled at him. “What did I say about keeping it down?”

Jake winced and whispered back. “Sorry. Does Curtis know?”

Bucky nodded. “Yes. And he’s upstairs sleeping. Don’t. Poke. The Bear.”

Jake nodded again. He was being so compliant, Bucky figured he could let a few more details slip. Maybe Jake was a little smarter than Bucky gave him credit for. “She’s trapped in one of the smaller caves. I’ve already got a construction crew digging her out.”

“Wait wait wait. You guys have a proper plan for this, right? You’ve gotta put supports in first and then calculate the load-bearing rocks. You can’t just go willy-nilly digging or it could get worse.” Man, based off that language, Bucky had no doubt Jake truly did grow up around you.

“Good observation, Jakey. That’s where you come in. I know I could’ve just called you if I wanted to know what you told Cole, but I needed you in person to know how serious I am. Grab your little computer and we’ll get going so you can run the calculations while Honeybee talks you through them. You can still ride a horse, right?”

Jake moved to get up, only to be stopped by the restraints. Bucky turned around from the door, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Oh, that’s right, my bad. I’ll get you untied and then we can go.”

Sam was talking with you about where to put which construction vehicles when he heard hooves make their way to the entrance. Bucky dismounted the back of a horse holding a laptop, followed by Jake who was riding ahead of him on that same horse.

“Not a word of this, Samuel.” Bucky growled lowly into Sam’s ear with clenched teeth. “I’ve already threatened the kid with the same.”

Bucky still had no idea how to ride a horse on his own, but would never admit that, so he was actually extremely grateful that Jake could take the reins. Sam had taken the other horse to get to you, leaving only one back at the house for him and Jake to use.

Bucky handed Jake the laptop and patted him on the back harshly, making it more of a shove. This led him to the small hole where you and Sam had just been talking.

Bucky followed at a quicker pace, reaching the area just before Jake could and held his arm out in front of the blond to bar him from going any farther. “Hi Honey, it’s me. I brought you a little present to help out, I hope you’re not mad. It’s your old friend Jacob from high school. Say hi.”

“Jake? Like… Jensen?” You responded, trying to look through the small hole unsuccessfully.

“Yeah, Peach, it’s me. I’m here to get you out. A-and Mr. Barnes wants you to know he’s been nothing but kind to me.” Jake clutched his laptop firmly to his chest, leaning over to be heard better through the small opening.

Bucky gave a stern nod to Jake for already responding well to his coaching on the way over here. Jake sat down by the hole where Bucky had sat before and got to work.

“Okay, Bee. Like I told you before, you say the word and I’ll be here in a minute. You can time me.”

“Where are you going?” He could hear the slight worry in your voice.

“To run a farm. And by that, I mean listen to Curtis.”

You giggled. “Okay, Bucket. See you soon.”

He looked back and smiled before turning towards Sam and pointing into his chest. “You tell me the second she’s close to getting out. I’ll be there.”

Sam nodded. “Sure thing, boss. Need help getting back up on your horse?”

Bucky was already turned away and heading back to your house. He waved a hand dismissively. “No. I’m walking.”

Sam chuckled as he watched the mob boss trudge away. He knew something had shifted in Bucky’s feelings. And he definitely had his suspicions that Bucky couldn’t ride a horse.

When Bucky returned to your house, he didn’t go upstairs. He feared the creaking of the steps would wake Decks, Curtis, and Steve. Plus, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep. Why would he when there was so much to do to help you? He would just get in the way at the mines, so he went into your office. He pulled out the files and article you had planned to show him the previous night regarding Cole from the kitchen, and as he sat down in your chair, he saw a contract with a familiar watermark. Shit.

Fuck. Shit. Bitch.

The letterhead was from ‘Turners Farm Corporation,’ which he had expected, but the associated law firm was ‘Hansen & Co.’ Bucky had his fair share of law firms in his back pocket, but this was not one of them. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

Lloyd Hansen was something of Bucky’s rival in the city. He was an unhinged lunatic. Where Bucky ran things with honor, poise, and calculated movements, Lloyd was messy, unpredictable, and reckless. He’d been trying to make multiple steps into Bucky’s territory, geographically and business-wise, but Bucky had done a decent job at shutting it down thus far.

And now Cole was in cahoots with Lloyd, well, not him directly on paper, just his bitch-ass sister who ran the firm. Bucky couldn’t believe-well, actually he could. He could believe that Cole would have teamed up with Hansen to build enough power for a takeover, especially considering it didn’t add up if Cole was making these moves on his own.

Fired by frustration that more than supplemented the sleep Bucky lacked from not just tonight, but this whole week, he snapped a picture of the contract and sent it to Sam. Sam would make sure it made its way through the right channels and contacts still back in the city. For now, Bucky had a more important priority than personally dealing with business: You. He had never been so grateful for Sam.

As he skimmed through the final page of the contract Cole had proposed to you, the first rooster crowed. Bucky got up to gather the eggs and make breakfast like any other day in the routine he’d grown so familiar with over just the past two weeks. But instead of cooking for you, he was cooking for the small army that came to your aid.

Curtis came barreling down the steps first, followed by Decks, and then eventually, Steve, who slumped and slinked down the stairs, reminiscent of Bucky’s first day doing the same. At least they were able to get themselves up.

Bucky plated their food, Curtis eyeing him with a small smile that Bucky failed to notice, and he sat down in his normal spot to start eating. He honestly didn’t have the appetite to do so, but he knew he’d crash without food since he already wasn’t sleeping, so he forced it down, preparing to go over the assignments with everyone once again.

Steve would be doing what Bucky had last week to set up the farmer’s market since it was scheduled to go again. Decks would be taking over the tasks you had, feeding the animals, and then doing sales with Bucky since people already knew his face. No need to raise more suspicion by introducing two new people to an event you were usually at.

Once everyone cleared their plates, they got to work, doing everything they could to be of assistance for the mob boss who was very evidently on edge.

It was early afternoon when Bucky got a call from Sam. He immediately picked it up.

“We’re close, boss. Only a couple more large boulders to go before there’s a big enough gap to pull her through.”

Bucky dropped the empty crates he was carrying onto the floor of the storage shed where he was returning them from the farmers market. Lucky for him, the storage shed was much closer to the mines than the barn.

Bucky was full-on sprinting in a way no one had ever seen. He never had to once he rose to power. All he did was walk, his long strides alone commanded enough respect. But this wasn’t about pride. It was about you.

He arrived at the mine entrance, breathing heavily, just as Sam was holding your hand, helping you step over a pile of sand and pebbles. Jake stood awkwardly to the side as you looked up from your feet to see Bucky quickly moving toward you. A smile took over your face and you sighed in relief. He scooped you up and spun you around before setting you down again and using his large hands to frame your face. Bucky didn’t care about the dirt and grime that had built up on the two of you. All he cared about was your safe return to his arms.

You watched as his eyes darted between yours and down to your lips. You wouldn’t hold back anymore. He had put all his resources into saving you, helping you. Without wasting another second, you leaned up on your toes and smashed your lips into his. When you pulled back, Bucky lost consciousness, collapsing in your arms.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Tbh I thought some moments in here were so funny, but I’d love to hear your thoughts!! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated!!! If I could, I’d make a secret handshake with you through the phone for following this plot line with me. 😉🤠

Series Taglist:

@scuzmunkie

@openup-yourmind

@vicmc624

@hawkeyes-queen

@blackhawkfanatic

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notjustjavierpena · 5 months

Text

Heat

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Many many moons ago (this might be an exaggeration), I wrote a direct message to @undercoverpena about one of her text posts that sent me into a horny spiral. I loved it. You can read the text post here. At lot happened since then, and I bet you all that she must have forgotten or thought I would not finish it, but alas I return from the dead.

Summary: Javier looks so delicious doing hard work under the sun. The kids aren’t home. Heat is not just what the sun gives, it can also be a state of your body.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, clit stim, piv sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, rough sex, javi p is sweaty and you are horny

Word count: 3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51636391

Heat

It’s a thousand degrees outside.

It’s the beginning of autumn and it’s boiling hot, so warm that one cannot fully enjoy the weather when it makes everything feel crispier. You’ll be damned if you are going to spend the sparse and sacred hours of being childfree inside your house with a pout though, because your father-in-law has the kids after a long period of him being unable to babysit.

One would think that now that your three children are in Abuelo Chucho’s hands, it would mean having a long-awaited, as well as well-deserved, date night with your husband, but Javier has decided to spend the day renovating the back porch in the heat. You haven’t rolled your eyes at him yet, but the urge has been there several times.

You sit on the porch swing, dangling your feet just above the wooden boards that are soon to be removed and replaced. There’s a glass of cold lemonade in your hand, a bee buzzing somewhere nearby.

Javier is in the shed at the back of the garden. You can hear him move things around, occasionally letting out a swear word moments after something clatters to the floor with a loud bang.

You sip your lemonade through its straw. The honey bee has found the bush of lavender, and you let your eyes close to listen to the sounds of late summer, the start of fall. The sun dances on your lids, sweat forms at the small of your back just above your shorts and right below your cropped t-shirt.

After a few minutes where you’ve leaned back into the backrest of the porch swing, and nearly fallen asleep, you hear Javier returning. Automatically, your eyes open at hearing him speak.

“Hey, enjoying yourself?” He has come over to peck your lips. You allow it, holding up the glass of lemonade afterward to watch his lips close around the straw. He takes a long sip whilst his eyes are fixed on yours.

“Gotta stay hydrated if you want to work in this heat,” you note.

“Just gonna be all pretty sitting there and watching me?” He asks after swallowing, and you have to force yourself to look away from the way his Adam's Apple bobs.

“Mh-hm,” you nod without saying much, knowing you’ll break if you try to get an actual sentence out.

“Alright,” he just replies, and you swear you catch some sort of undertone in his voice. He kisses you again, lingering a second too long for you to be indifferent towards it, and then stretches again. A less collected version of you wants to undo his belt right there, but you let him go instead. Not without regret though.

And then he starts working, dragging planks across the soon-naked porch deck, and you start sweating even more at the sight. Even moreso at the grunts he elicits during his labor.

Javier is beautiful underneath the burning sun, sweat-slicked chest hair peeking out from under his grayish shirt that he has unbuttoned at the top. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows because they cannot go up any further than that, tightening around the beginnings of his biceps and causing your head to swim when you think about those arms around you.

You allow yourself to ogle him as he is lost in the task. The straw in your lemonade sits in your mouth, your tongue curling around it briefly before you sip to clench your thirst. There’s sweat collecting on Javier’s brow, threatening to drip down, and when it finally does slide down the side of his head, your eyes burn from refraining from blinking as you watch the beads roll down his neck and into the clavicle of it. You press your thighs together.

The gray shirt has darkened in color around his shoulders due to dampness. Whenever Javier turns his back to you, you can see the darker patch has reached his lower back too. Your tongue darts out to lick at nothing around your mouth, and you know that your husband would laugh at you if he saw it.

There’s something dirty about watching the way he brushes slick hair from his forehead. He has knelt down on the deck by now, occasionally on all fours when he reaches for something in front of himself, and when he gets really concentrated, straining his back muscles so much that the shirt starts fighting for its life, he pulls a face that nearly makes you fall off the porch swing.

You bite your lip, choose your words but none seems to do the job so you settle for something more simple, “Javi.”

“Sí, mi amor?” Javier doesn’t look up.

You remind yourself that he has talked about redoing the porch since his father agreed to take the kids. You won’t spoil it for him, and you know that a half-finished project with three kids is not an ideal situation for you, so you compose yourself.

“I think I need to get out of the sun for a bit, can I get you some water?” You ask instead of getting on your knees to beg - or more - and then you walk past him.

“Sure,” he replies as you pass him, and it makes you unable to see the smirk on his face, “Water would be great. Thanks, honey.”

Inside the kitchen, you fill a glass with cold water from the refrigerator. You even get a few ice cubes from the tray in your freezer but instead of dumping them into your husband’s drink, you hold them against your chest with a sigh of relief. Something burns in the pit of your stomach, even more when you return to the porch and hand Javier the glass of water. He hasn’t gotten less enticing; shirt clinging to him, hair sticking to his forehead, a groan as he gets up from the floor.

“Should be done by tomorrow,” he says as he takes the glass from your hand, causing a bolt of electricity to shoot down your spine as your fingers brush. It’s ridiculous since both of you know that he is yours already.

“Mm-hm,” you watch him gulp down nearly all of his drink.

And then he does something that you might never recover from; he pours the remaining water over himself in an attempt to cool down. It wets his hair even more, and he runs his thick fingers through it to shake out the excess droplets.

Time stands still. Your heart hammers in your chest, pulse traveling through your veins until you can feel the throbbing of each heartbeat between your legs. You press your thighs together and let out a whimper of breath.

“Baby?” You say softly to earn a hm? It feels shameful to meet Javier’s eyes. However when you do, you notice his pupils have dilated in desire, gaze flickering down your body for the shortest time, and you choose to strike.

You step into Javier’s personal space, hand reaching up to lie on his chest. The soft pads of your fingers rest on his skin where his buttons are undone, and you try to keep a doe-eyed look on your face as you rub his exposed skin gently.

“I was thinking,” you start, trail off.

“Yes?” He drags the word out. You can hear the smirk on his face but it feels too vulnerable to look him in the eye.

“Since we’re alone,” you continue, gaze fixated on the chest hair that is exposed in the heat, “And since there’s air conditioning inside, we could do something together.”

“Do what?” He says like someone who has figured you out. His strong hand comes up to wrap around your wrist, lifting your palm to his mouth. He kisses it.

Your face burns with embarrassment at the fact that you can barely contain yourself in his presence. That and the fact that it is usually so easy, so why does it feel so difficult to ask for what you want?

“You know what.”

“I need you to say it, need you to ask for it, mi vida,” he teases and places your hand on the side of his face. He releases a breath at your touch, eyes fluttering closed so you feel brave enough to look up at his face. He leans further into you and looks as ready as you to give in.

“I need you to touch me,” your voice trembles. Javier just barely shudders at hearing your words, opening his eyes once more to reveal their darkened color.

“Touch you where?” Javier continues his little game. He mirrors you, touches your face too, “Here?”

“No.”

His hand moves down to brush your neck, “Here then? It must be here.”

“No,” you shake your head, “Please, Javi.”

Javier’s hand slides down your front and settles on the exposed skin of your belly. It causes you to hold your breath. Then it goes down, slips past the elastic band of your shorts and into your damp underwear. You gasp as two of his fingers slide through the wetness between your legs, tips finding your pulsing clit immediately after. Thank God you have hedges around the back garden and thank God that they’re tall enough to keep prying eyes away from the scene that unfolds.

“What about here? I hope it’s here because I don’t want to stop,” he rubs you off slowly until your legs start to shake underneath you. He works his fingers back and forth, from side to side, one on either side of your clit and something builds and builds and—

You come with a little cry and bury your face in Javier’s chest. Your hand on the side of his face falls down to his shoulder which you grip as you soak your underwear even more, thighs trapping his hand as they clamp together. As your head spins, Javier chuckles out a swear word above you.

“Never gets old,” he adds and you start giggling.

After a few seconds of letting you breathe, Javier cups your face and lifts your lips to his own in a kiss that tells you everything you need to know, where you’re heading, which direction. You kiss him back slowly and he licks the inside of your mouth, guides you toward the screen door that leads inside of the house. He has you, you want to say, body and soul.

“Let me take my beautiful wife to bed,” he begs and you nod repeatedly, mumbling a soft plea. He peppers you with sweet kisses that turn more heated as you get closer to the bedroom door. He toes off his shoes on the way, leaving them forgotten in the hallway along with pieces of clothing that he sheds you and himself of.

When you’re both naked, sticking together from the sweat that is already shining on your skin, he hoists you up and carries you to the bed effortlessly. You cling to him by wrapping your limbs around his body, and he kneels down on the bed and places you on your back - and then he doesn’t leave but instead melts into you.

“Te deseo mucho, mi amor,” he murmurs and crushes you so heavenly with his weight, connecting his lips to your throat and sucking a purple mark onto your skin. You’ll scold him for it later but right now, you simply whine. His voice vibrates against your neck, “You really thought all I was gonna do was redo the stupid porch? Not do you?”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you bite back with no real hostility, first snorting at his choice of words and then letting out a sigh as he continues tasting your salty skin, “I was ready to go insane, so please fuck me.”

“Dramatic as ever,” he teases and then holds himself up with one arm so he can reach down between your bodies. You bend your legs and let your knees fall out to the sides, breath hitching until it becomes a whimper when the head of Javier’s cock slides through your folds.

“Please,” you say, and have never been so willing. His cockhead catches on your clit, and your moan comes out a lot louder than intended. You are just about to cover your mouth with your hand when you realize you don’t have to; you can cry and whine and scream all you want to. It makes you yearn for him in a newfound sense and makes you want to scream already.

“Paciencia, mi amor,” he tuts but still reads your mind. He enters you a moment later, pushing inside easily from the slick that’s already smearing your inner thighs. He groans as you take him, eyes intensely focused on yours whilst stretching your pussy open in a delicious sting. Your hands find his broad shoulders instead of their usual place clamped down on your mouth. You let yourself be noisy as you adjust.

“That’s it,” he slurs, “Be noisy all you want. Good girl.”

When he pulls out and eases back in, the two of you moan in unison. He does it again but follows it up with a breathless laugh when your noises already climb in pitch.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says soothingly as if you’ve hurt yourself.

But then he shows no mercy and speeds up. His rhythm becomes something else entirely; hard and fast, sending the eyes in your head rolling backward into your skull with a f-fuck dripping from your lips.

Everything is so different. Usually, you breathe so deeply into each other’s bodies, connecting your lips whenever the other is about to give away what the two of you are doing to the rest of the house. Your noses will bump against each other as you are impossibly close to one another, an occasional h-ah escaping your mouth or a low grunt from Javier’s, and if not even a kiss can cover up the noises, Javier’s strong hand or your own will cover your mouth as you cry through the most intense orgasms a man has ever given you.

But now. Oh God. Javier is making you sing until the house is shaking, every noise bouncing off the walls to ricochet right back to your ears. You can hear yourself sound obscene as he makes you come a second time, wanton moans falling from your slack mouth. You tremble, thighs jiggling along his sides as he drives his cock into you to prolong your pleasure.

“There you are, Christ, you are perfect,” he praises, continues to pound your oversensitive cunt, “Let it all out, baby.”

“More,” you beg, “Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grunts.

You reach down between your legs as best as you can, already thinking of a third orgasm now that your clit is untouched. If not only to shout yourself hoarse.

Javier traps you between his arms, propping himself up on his forearms and sliding his fingers into your hair. He tugs slightly as he rolls his hips, pain erupting from your sensitive follicles and adding to your third high that is building.

You circle your clit fast, barely able to contain yourself as your cunt goes off into delicious spasm. You think you might actually start crying with how intense it feels, Javier’s cock twitching inside of you whilst he moans too. He buries his face in your shoulder.

“Don’t pull out,” you gasp up at the ceiling, nails creating little crescent marks on the muscles of his broad shoulder, “Javi, oh fuck, come in me. Don’t pull out. Pleasepleaseplease.”

The comment makes Javier pull back a little, raising himself on his elbow to look down at you. His fingers are still in your hair, an occasional moan tumbles out of his mouth as he continues reaching deep inside of you, and his eyes bore into yours. He furrows his brow from being so close, barely able to speak from how ragged his breathing is.

“What—?” He grunts. Any moment now.

“Not ovulating,” you moan back at him, tightening your legs around his waist to punctuate your want, your need. You try meeting his every thrust to encourage his own high, “Please, baby. Need you to come in me.”

“Mierda, estas una chica sucia,” his hips stutter, “You love getting filled to the brim, don’t you?”

You nod frantically.

“Just want me to keep knocking your sweet cunt up, huh?” He moans.

“Yes. Whole fucking football team.”

“C’mere,” he catches your mouth in a heated kiss, nodding slightly, but it turns messy as soon as he gets to orgasm. He whimpers into your mouth when he is just on the brink, and then he gasps as the first rope of come starts to fill you. You let out a big sigh against his mouth for show, taking everything he has to give you whilst he shudders in your arms.

It takes a moment to calm down. Your arms rest beside your head and your eyes close, trying to calm your heavy breathing. Above you, Javier hisses when he pulls out of you and you can immediately feel his come dripping out of you.

Javier kisses your exposed chest. He slides his hands up your forearms to eventually hold each of your hands, flopping down onto you again.

“Ice water,” you say after a while of laying together like this.

“Hm?” He squeezes your hands.

“Go get some ice water, your wife is boiling.”

“Fine,” he groans.

When he comes back, he has also brought a towel and you spend the rest of the afternoon trailing ice cubes across your warm skin after cleaning yourself up. It’ll be easier to work in the colder evening sun anyway.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

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goldenseresinretriever · 7 months

Text

The San Diego Dogfighters

(A TGM Hockey!AU)

Header by @bobgasm 💚🩶💛

The NHL just had an expansion to create a new ice hockey team which resulted in the brand new San Diego Dogfighters.

Team Name: San Diego Dogfighters

Team Colors: Kale, Ultimate Gold, Antique Gold

Owner: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

General manager: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson

Head Coach: Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

Assistant Coach: Daredevil/Dare Mitchell

Players:

Centre/Captain: Jake Seresin #86

Left Defenseman/Alternate Captain: Bradley Bradshaw #84

Right Defenseman/Alternate Captain: Javy Machado #68

Left Winger: Reuben Fitch #45

Right Winger: Mickey Garcia #42

Goalie: Bob Floyd #35

Equipment Manager: Natasha Trace

Team Physician: Bugs/Bunny

Team Nutritionist: Penny Benjamin

Athletic Trainer: Bernie “Hondo” Coleman

Goalie Development Coach: Dragon/Dragonfly/Puff Simpson

Social Media Manager: TBA

PR Representative: Zamboni/Honey

~~~~~

Non-Staff Characters

Charlie

Tucker

Roadie/Meep

Josie “Jo” Fitch

Snitches Get Stitches (Jake Seresin x TeamPhysician!Reader) COMPLETED

You Catch More Bees With Honey (Bradley Bradshaw x PRRepresentative!Reader) COMPLETED

False Confidence (Javy Machado x KindergartenTeacher!Reader) ONGOING

The Long Game (Pete Mitchell x AssistantCoach!Reader) UPCOMING

Don’t Wake the Dragon (Bob Floyd x GoalieCoach!Simpson!Reader) UPCOMING

Muscle Memory (Mickey Garcia x SportsReporter!Reader) UPCOMING

Character’s Ages in the SDD Universe

The SDD Universe in Chronological Order

Important note: I’ve been made aware of the accidental similarities between this AU and “On the Ice” by @cassiemitchell and we’ve talked things out, please go check out her AU for more TGM hockey content! We’ll be working together from here on out to keep similarities from escalating

This AU was inspired by talented authors like Emily Rath and her series “Pucking Around” and Becka Mack and her “Consider Me” series just to name a few. They’re amazing authors and I would recommend their books for anyone wanting more hockey romance goodness

~~~~~~~

Ruthie’s Ice Hockey 101

~~~~~~~

My work cross-posted on AO3

~~~~~~~

A/N: A first look at the Dogfighters team roster!! I’ll be revealing the players one by one and potentially also going into details for members of staff that I’ve already announced! As for a logo and/or mascot I’m gonna need more time to figure those out because I’m not an artist by any means but I’d love to design both of those.

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seeingivy · 4 months

Text

new year's day

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

an: happy new year's day to you, if you've reached it! it's still eight thirty in california, but I hope the future is very exciting if you've reached it. thank you so much for all the love and support this year, it means the world to me.

it’s well past two in the morning. and you’re seated on the floor of satoru’s apartment, the cold tiles biting your legs, as you hike your knees to your chest. you suppose that it’s not quite ladylike, that if satoru came back he’d totally catch sight of your underwear, and that it would make the most embarrassing day of your life possibly mortifying.

the glitter that was shimmering on the floor - from the little party poppers that nobara had brought were sticking to your legs at this point, a varied mix of colors on your skin. along with the glitter, there’s a mess scattered on his floor, one that he’ll be intent to clean because the mess irritates megumi, the second the last of them shuffle out of here. when he has to drag you out of here by your legs - or more appropriately, shoko will tell you to grow a spine and have some shame - and you’ll run out of here yourself.

you suppose it’s probably the last time that you’re going to be here.

you place your hand flat on the tiles, the tiny little progenies of polaroids cameras that satoru had set out for everyone littered on the floor. you lift the little stack by your legs and the haphazardly strewn ones around you.

but of course, the perfect stack belonged to none other than megumi fushiguro. there’s only five pictures, different variations of him, nobara, and itadori. one of itadori kissing his cheek, nobara and yuuji hugging megumi, each additional picture a sickening sweet testament to your friendship.

it’s the alcohol. and the biting sting of rejection. and the fact that any hopes of a new year, new you lifestyle was thrown out the window tonight.

you take the haphazard stack in your hands, as the tears start pouring through from your eyes, and you flip through them all. one of choso pinching yuuji’s cheeks, one of satoru doing the exact same to ijichi (much to his dismay). the last one is the one that drops your heart straight into your stomach, as you look at it.

it’s a picture of you and satoru, of your cheeks pressed together and your hands tangled around his neck. he had just snagged one of the new year’s party hats - the one’s that had ran out by the time that you arrived - or more appropriately stole it off of nanami’s head to give it to you. though you suppose nanami was somewhat grateful for that one.

you tuck the little picture into your purse, as you make the move to stand and take your little walk of shame out of his apartment. satoru’s still lingering by the door, talking animatedly with choso who seems to be the last one here with a very drunk yuuji on his shoudler, as you swallow hard and approach the two of them.

at the sight of you, choso very clearly took his hint - and likely didn’t want to be there for the mess of feelings that was about to implode - as he very kindly and earnestly wishes the two of you the best and shuffles away.

you tightly hold the leather of your bag, surely making indents into the palm of your hand, as you snag the little hat off the top of your head and place it in satoru’s palm.

“happy new year, satoru.” you whisper, the tears burning in your eyes, as you can barely look at him in the bout of your own shame.

“happy new year, honey bee.” he responds, the loving nickname now a sickening gut punch as you shuffle out into the hallway, to where choso still seems to be lingering in the hallway.

he gives you a halfhearted smile, lifting his arm to tuck you into his side, as the three of you shuffle into the elevator. there's a group of girls, carrying their shoes down to the lobby, that give you a pinched, empathetic smile. and the gentleman he is, choso drives you home with yuuji, his loving care for his drunk brother extending to you.

and you make a resolve that you won’t ever see satoru gojo again.

because nothing is more embarrassing than leaning into kiss your best friend, whom you so desperately love, during the countdown and starting your year by watching him lean away in disgust.

the following morning, choso’s big brotherness extends to you. yuuji gets the hangover treatment - the full set of a breakfast, baby aspirins, and a facetious amount of water - and you suppose that you get the i’m going to do something nice for you because something really embarrassing happened to you last night treatment.

though you can’t really complain. because choso makes very good eggs - and went out of his way to get the two of you a fresh set of donuts - and the filter in his tap makes the ice cold water soothing on your warm, puffy skin.

“y/n.”

“hm?”

“gojo-sensei is asking where you are.”

you look up at choso, eyes pinched, as he gives you a reassuring smile. it seems that in his drinking competition last night - one that everyone new he stood no chance in against todo - he had acutely forgotten about the humiliating affair.

you can’t decide if it’s good or bad.

“ah. tell him i’m going out of town?” you state, looking to choso for approval.

he gives you an affirmative nod, the silent sound of support making you infinitely grateful for him.

“where you going, teach?”

“ah. just to see my parents. for the month.” you state.

“you’re going to be gone for a month? since when?” yuuji asks, gaping at you.

“okay, yuuji. you need to go take a shower because you stink.” choso states, nearly pulling him off his chair at your side and shoving him down the hall.

choso slides into the seat at your side, as you both look past and make sure yuuji’s turned the shower on, before you talk freely.

“will you actually go?” he asks.

“yeah. it kind of just tumbled out of my mouth, but…it seems like a good idea now. just some time away, so that i can get over it. he can cover for me anyways, i fear my job is more of a formality anyways.” you murmur.

“that’s not true. they all need your mentorship just as much as his. yuuji surely benefits from how hard you are on him.” choso states.

“i’ll be back. he can get coddled by satoru for the month, i-i’m sure it’lll make him really happy.” you respond.

you feel a hand on your shoulder, as you can barely contain the tears in your eyes as you look up at him. choso immediately deflates, frowning at you, as he rubs little circles into your back. choso all but forces you to stay for lunch, feeding you for a second time and sending you out with the box of donuts in your hand, as you leave to pack.

on january thirty-first, you can’t help but dread the fact that you’re returning to jujutsu tech. and leaving the safe confines of your house, and your older sister, who is a certified satoru gojo hater.

while you don’t exactly share her hateful feelings for him - and suppose that you never could - it did give you the laugh. and soothed over the little burder of hurt that seemed to sit in your chest. you supposed that it’s messed up. to disparage someone you love, in the name of your own feelings. and you look forward to it as your sister brings the little coffee cups over ot your side.

“ready to go back?” she asks.

“but of course. you’ve equipped me with a decent amount of insults to use against him.” you state.

she frowns in response.

“you’re…going to insult him?” she asks.

“you’ve been insulting him for the past month.” you state.

“yeah. and i’m your older sister. when a stupid guy hurts your feelings, and makes you feel stupid, it’s basically a moral obligation to insult him. especially when he’s looks like a shitty version of jack frost.”

you snort.

“i was kidding. i doubt i’d be able to do that anyways.”

“so what will you do?”

“dunno. cry. scream. throw up a little bit. make a facetious joke to make him feel guilty. then feel bad about it because he doesn’t owe it to me to reciprocate my feelings just because he means the world to me. get drunk at a bar becuase i miss him and he’s my best friend.”

the ends of her mouth are turned down when you look up at her, that awkward little pitiful look that she seemed to spare for you on her face, yet again. you shake your head dismissively, that bubbling wave of hurt in your chest too palpable for you to breathe through, as you lift the coffee in your hand.

“when you get home, just…just get rid of the stuff that reminds you of him. start going to new places!”

“he’s everywhere. not just in my head and in my godawful heart but…we do everything at work together. he eats where i eat, i’ve got him hooked on the coffee i like, and i’ve inherited his horrible sweet tooth habit. and i don’t want to take our pictures down. throw away the gifts he got me…” you murmur.

“okay, love. you don’t have to, but don’t make it harder than it has to be. this is an opportunity to…learn how to cook. buy a coffee machine and do something new.”

“i don’t want to do anything without him. he-he’s my best friend.” you respond, warm tears blurring your line of vision.

she’s quick to shuffle over to your side, her arms wrapped warmly around you, as you fight down the stupid wave of memories that always seems to come to your mind when it comes to him. that have plagued your very existence for the past thirty-one days, and more or less, since the day that you met him.

your sister walks you to the train station shortly after and you bid your goodbyes as you settle into the train car.

“hello?”

“y/n?”

choso’s voice is oddly comforting to you. he’s always been quite the silent type, but his quiet support was actually just what you needed at times.

“hi choso. are you busy?”

“you- you’re alive?”

“what? of course i’m alive!”

“you haven’t talked to me in a month. or anyone.” he deadpans.

“yeah. just kind of disconnected when i headed home. tried to reconvene with nature. touched some grass.”

“well, you clearly needed to do that.”

“hey. anyways, i just realized that i don’t have a ride home. do you mind? i’ll be home in like…six hours?”

“of course.” he responds.

almost six hours - and two hundred and six stiff bones later - you find choso, megumi, nobara, and yuuji standing on the little platform, smiling brightly at you. you give the three of them a wave from the window, as they all burrow you into hugs on the little stand.

“hi teach!!!” yuuji says excitedly, wrapping you into a warm hug.

“we missed you so much. you left us alone with gojo-sensei for too long.” nobara whines.

“don’t suffocate her, itadori.” megumi states, nearly pulling him off as you reach for megumi’s hand and shoot him a grateful smile.

the three of them trudge your bags along ahead of you, animatedly bickering with each other on the way to the car, as you link your arm with choso’s and walk down the length of the train station with him.

“thanks for coming.”

“no problem, y/n. what are friends for?”

“embarassing crushes. mortifying memories. hardening over your heart.” you respond, rather morbidly.

“i appreciate the alliterations. that’s a nice touch.” he responds, lightly shoving you in the side.

you smile hard.

“why thank you.”

the four of them drive you home, and you give each of them grateful hugs, as you pocket the key to your apartment and shuffle into your house. you walk in to find a set of plates in the sink, the distinct smell of freshly brewed coffee, and your cat darting in and out of your legs, it’s bowl already empty.

you crouch down to the ground, placing your hands right behind it’s ears, as you smile.

“hi milo baby. whose been taking care of you, hm?”

“me.”

you look up to find satoru standing in front of you, his appearance almost haphazard. you’re all but shell shocked at the sight of him, as he quickly lifts you up by your forearms, holding you still in the little tiles of your kitchen.

and then he leans forward, cupping the sides of your cheeks as he presses a firm, warm kiss to your lips. you’re almost too shocked to kiss him back, barely feeling any sensation in your body, as satoru leans your head back, taking such a deep breath in before he kisses you a second time and leans his forehead against yours.

he breaks out into a laugh.

“you’re back honey bee.”

“y-yeah. but you-”

satoru cuts off any words you can muster as he presses his lips against yours again, the warm feeling going all the way down to the pit of your stomach as you instinctively place your hands on his biceps.

you pull back, eyes wide at him, as you put space between you.

“what are you doing?” you whisper.

satoru swallows hard, making grabby hands at you as he gestures for you to come back. stand in his embrace again.

“what?”

“i want you to come here.”

“you come here.” you respond, defensively.

“well, you just pulled away. i don’t want you to reject me if i try again.”

satoru pales, realizing that he’s quite literally walked himself into that one, as you fight the urge to smile.

“right. because that would be rude, wouldn’t it?”

satoru can’t hold back, and breaks the distance, as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. his blue eyes are wide and earnest, still so striking after a month away.

“it would be more than rude. it would be incredibly, ridiculously stupid.” he murmurs.

“and?”

“and my biggest regret.” he states.

you deflate, lifting your hand to his cheek and rubbing the softness of his skin.

“why are you in my house?”

“you gave me a key. said i could come whenever i wanted.” he whines.

“not sure that applied after new years, satoru.”

he frowns.

“you left milo here all alone. i had to feed him.”

you look down at milo, sitting on the little tile floors looking up at you, as you look back at satoru.

“okay, fine. but really. what are you doing here? and…and why did you just kiss me?”

he sighs.

“why did you try to kiss me on new years?” he asks.

the wave of embarrassment courses through you, the look on his face flashing across your memory, as you make a move to pull away from him. but satoru’s hands are locked behind your waist, holding you exactly where you were.

“don’t be cruel, satoru. you know why.”

“no. i don’t. you need to tell me. now.” he responds, his voice almost straining in his throat.

“why? so i can look stupid again? i know that you know. there’s no way that you don’t.”

“know what, y/n?” he asks.

“that…that i cancel dates for you! i tried for two months, and found them irritating because they weren’t like you, so i just stopped turning them down all together.” you respond.

satoru looks dumfounded and all you can do is glare at him. surely, he wasn’t this clueless.

“i stayed at jujutsu because of you. i-i went to megumi’s baseball games just because you asked. split dessert with you even though i hate sugar. always made sure to grab you an extra coffee on the way to class. you-you’re my best friend. i love you. i wanted to start my year off on the right foot, by owning how i feeled, and doing something i’ve always wanted to do.”

“you wanted to kiss me?” he asks.

“are you stupid?” you ask, irritated.

the wave of hurt ebbs in your chest as you can feel the tears gathering in your eyes, at how stupid the entire thing was. how much it made your chest ache.

“i wanted to kiss you when i realized that you were going to stay here with me. and be a teacher. and i wanted to kiss you when you came to megumi’s baseball games and made sure to wear his jersey just so that he knew we were there for him. i always wondered if your lips tasted as sweet as mine when we shared dessert and if you’d ever let me brew the coffee for you in the morning, instead of buying it from a shitty cafe on the way to class.”

you swallow hard.

“huh?”

“i didn’t do it. on new year’s eve. kiss you back, i mean. because, because i thought you were drunk. i thought you just wanted to kiss someone because everyone else was. and if you kissed me once and then got to walk away the next day, i would never get over it. getting to know how it feels and being tortured by the fact that i’d never get to do it again.”

you deflate.

“satoru.”

“i could never let you be a new year’s eve kiss. then, i’d want your midnights too. the entire day. the entire year.” he states.

you lift your hands to his cheeks, squeezing hard, before you pull him in. for a second time. except he doesn’t cower away from your affections this time, and instead returns them ten fold. because he smiles into your kiss, peppers ten of them all over your face and your neck, and refuses to let you go.

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @invisible-mori @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks

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spacecowboyhotch · 9 months

Text

The Bee and the Bear, Chapter 3: Like a Bear to a Hive

summary: carmy cooks Bee dinner.

pairing: carmy berzatto x f!reader (Bee)

contents: 18+/NSFW/heavy content/eventual smut, mention of suicide/mental illness, grief, longing, pining, angst, friends to strangersish to lovers, food and alcohol mention

wc: 2.7k

an: god i love these two so badddddd. i love their tenderness despite the awkwardness…i love how palpable how much they mean to the other is. PS this isn’t beta’d so if you see something insanely fucked pls let me know! PSS totto’s market is real and located in chicago…highly recommend it!

series masterlist

< | chapter 2: Back in the Beef

You can’t figure out what to wear. You’ve been back and forth, digging through your suitcase like a madwoman and standing in front of the mirror in your childhood room. This crisis is silly, it shouldn’t even be a crisis. Carmy has seen you in more than 80% of your wardrobe. Sure, you’ve gotten clothing for work, some racier things from your bar crawl days in undergrad. You’d brought neither of those categories with you– jeans and sweaters, a polished suit suit for Mikey’s funeral.

But, how do you dress for hanging out with Carmen Berzatto for the first time since you were just a teenager?

The answer is a paradox because its unclearly clear. This isn’t a special occasion and it is decidedly not a date. You’re a faithful woman, one who’s trying so desperately to protect your heart while simultaneously letting yourself have this. It feels pathetic to think about how long you’ve been waiting for a moment like this.

There was a time where missing Carmy completely consumed you. This is your way of letting yourself heal, or maybe it’s just going to make that feeling resurface when you inevitably go back home and history repeats itself. Your thoughts start to grow, mind swirling with doubt when your phone begins to buzz where its sat on your bedside table.

A picture of you and Kyle pops up on the display, his contact name a simple blue heart.

You answer it quietly, “Hello?”

“Hi, honey.”

“Hey,” You breathe, falling back into bed, giving yourself a reprieve from staring at every piece of clothing you’d packed.

“You sound tense,” And while he’s bringing it up, there’s no true concern that you can detect in his voice.

“No, not tense at all, just—pretty tired.”

It isn’t a complete lie. Despite feeling wired and on edge about seeing Carmy, there’s a heaviness to your limbs– fatigue from the last few days.

“Oh, are you heading to bed soon?”

You take in a shaky breath. Outright lying to him isn’t an option, you’re a good partner— a faithful partner, so you’ll just be honest. You close your eyes, struggling to keep your voice nonchalant, “Actually I’m getting dinner– well Carmy’s making dinner.”

Silence stretches between the two of you and you open your mouth to say something, anything but Kyle beats you to it.

“First time you’re seeing him since you moved out here, yeah?” He asks quietly. There’s a stillness in his tone that sends a chill down your spine.

“Yeah, it’ll be good to catch up with him. See what’s changed since we were babies.”

“And you still trust him? I mean its been–”

“He’s one of my best friends, Kyle,” You say quickly, before he can voice any of his opinions on Carmy or any of your other friends from home.

He doesn’t understand your bond with Nat or Carmy or Richie— hardly understood why you felt so compelled to come home from Mikey’s funeral when you hadn’t seen him in years. Kyle has no friends from his childhood, it’s just him and the steady, sterile climb into corporate America, full of empty smiles and cold happy hours. He doesn’t understand the warmth that ties you all together no matter how far you go, like the roots of a tree.

“One of your best friends? That you haven’t seen since before you could order your own glass of bourbon?” He challenges, chuckling under his breath.

“He means a lot to me. You know that.”

“How could I forget.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, “Please, Kyle, it's not like that. It's never been like that. We’re platonic. I know it's weird for you but just– it's nice. To have him back after all these years. After losing Mikey.”

“Alright, I’m sorry. I know how much that little group of friends means to you even if they all have a weird way of showing it.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when I make it home?”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Your conversation with Kyle feels like a cold shower. You’d just lied to him and now you’re second guessing everything. Should you really be doing this? Would this just be torture? Is having him in this way worse than not having him at all? Things with Carmy had never been voluntarily platonic.

Your phone buzzes and you think that its a text from Kyle– an overprotective “be careful” or “are you sure?”. To your surprise, its Carmy. Was he canceling? Why did that make your heart ache when you were just rethinking this yourself.

Bear 🤎: Looking forward to tonight. 8 still ok?

You stare at the text for several seconds, unaware of the soft smile that spreads across your face. He still has a contact photo– the two of you together for the last time before going off sitting outside the Adler Planetarium listening to the lakeside waves. Sugar had taken the photo while Mikey and Richie shadow boxed in the parking lot like a couple idiots.

Another text rolls in, pulling you from that memory.

Bear 🤎: We could do it sooner if you get tired early.

You: 8’s good, I still have to get wine.

Bear: See you soon.

You: Soon.

For a moment, you wish that you and Carmy were having lunch– you could take a walk down the Chicago streets, the wind whipping at your cheeks and clearing your head. But it’s nearly 7 and that wouldn’t be the safest thing to do. Finally you dress, settling on jeans and a chunky knit sweater that’s your favorite color. You bid your parents goodbye, ignoring their strangely wide smiles at the mention of Carmy and head for their car. Your favorite little store, Totto’s Market is just around the corner and you park the car and pop inside, needing to get in and out since your forgoed paying the meter.

Wine is an easy pick, one of your favorite whites that’s on the sweeter side. Dessert proves to be a challenge— Totto’s always has an assortment of killer pastries, flavorful ice cream and unique delicacies. You decide to play it safe with something you know Carmy will love: a orange and pistachio scone. He appreciates the brightness of citrusy paired with the earthy, salty pistachio, not to mention the buttery, crumbly scone. You’re out in less than 10 minutes and head towards Carmy’s.

When you pull up to his apartment building you do pay the parking meter, the hopeful part of you paying for a few hours. It could be something quick, dinner could be done and plated, awkward and over in no time. But you hope that that spark is still there, that he’s missed you just as much as you missed him.

He appears at the door pulling you out of your thoughts. He’s in a white t-shirt as always, but this one looks pristine with no wrinkles and is tucked into a brown pair of dickies instead of his usual messy jeans. He smiles bright, his eyes crystal blue, “Hey, c’mon in.”

“Yeah, sure,” You say awkwardly, following him inside.

“Whatcha got here? Lemme see,” He says, taking the bag from you once the two of you make it into the kitchen– you hope he doesn’t notice how slick your hands are, how they stuck slightly to the handles of the paper bag.His grin widens as he pulls out the bottle of wine you got, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “This is perfect.”

“Yeah? You’re not just humoring me.”

“I’m not, it’s a great pair with dinner. Sit,” He points to one of the bar stools tucked under the counter and you do, hoisting yourself up.

“What’s this?” He holds up the pastry bag, before opening it and inhaling. “Whoa.”

“Orange and pistachio scones. I didn’t know what you were making so I thought I’d go light for dessert.”

He gives you a nod of approval and sets down the bag, bending down to get a pot from the lower cabinets.

“I get to watch, hmm?” You ask, surprised but excited.

You hadn’t anticipated that he’d start cooking after you got there. Sure, he’d asked you to hang out but since then you’ve been wondering— is he doing this out of guilt? Out of pity? It had you thinking that he’d want to spend a limited amount of time with you, even with his enthusiasm. Your brain cycles through that back and forth, basking in his eagerness and questioning it many times in the span of minutes. But now you’re here. Now he’s cooking for you and those voices are a little softer in your head, overwhelmed by Carmy.

He shrugs, shifting awkwardly, “Thought I’d do it this way, for old time sake.”

“For old time sake,” You repeat quietly, watching as he starts to putter around the kitchen.

He heads for the fridge first, grabbing a couple wine glasses out of his freezer and pouring you both a glass before he gets started on prep. There’s soft music playing that you finally notice as you settle in, the gentle picking of guitar, accompanied by a piano melody.

“Actually…you still remember how to dice?” He teases, glancing over his shoulder at you, as he opens a container of eggs.

“Taught by the best,” You hop up, bringing your glass of wine with you as you join him at the prep station.

He looks smug for a moment before his brows knit together, “Wait— didn’t Mikey teach you how to dice?”

“I did say the best.”

He tries to look put out with you but the edges of his mouth twitch begging to smile. He nudges your shoulder, “Bull.”

“I think Mikey would disagree.”

“‘Course he would.” He’s quiet for a moment, squinting over at you, formulating his next words, “Where were you— when you?”

You take in a deep breath, shoulders dropping lower than before upon your exhale, “Uh, at work actually. Showing a new client around the gallery.”

“Sugar?”

“Richie. Sugar was…well she was telling you I’d imagining. Or falling apart. Both probably.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you slip into a comfortable silence, working at your respective stations. You glance over at him a few times, wondering if you should say what’s on your mind or leave it be.

“Say it.”

“Huh?” You finish chopping, looking up from the cutting board.”

“Whatever’s on your mind. You can say it.”

Incredible how after all this time apart, he can still read you like an open book. You shouldn’t be surprised since you can do the same to him…but what you’ve felt for him has always been different than what he felt for you. Right?

You sigh, shrugging a bit as you gather the onions you’ve successfully diced up in a pile, “Oh, uh, I was just…I realized I hadn’t said I’m sorry. About Mikey, I mean.”

He’s quiet for a moment, though his hands don’t stop working until he looks over at you, “Me too. For you. For all of us.”

“He’s your brother, Carm, you don’t have to extend me sympathy.”

“He meant a lot to you, too.”

You nod, staying quiet; there’s no use in arguing with that logic. He thanks you for dicing and tells you to go get comfortable on the couch while he finishes the rest. You protest insisting there's more you can do to help, but he gives you a no nonsense look pointing to the couch. You hold up your hands in surrender, grabbing your wine glass before taking a seat. From here you can still see him from the waist up and you watch him move around the kitchen. His quick, graceful way makes you realize that you would have just been in his way, slowing him down. As time passes his apartment fills with the scent of herbs, spicy chilis, aromatic tomatoes, and toasty bread.

Dinner is ready in no time at all– he isn’t an award winning chef for nothing– and you return to the counter when he plates the food at the bar. The two of you take turns talking, him first about the special changes he’s made to Mikey’s family spaghetti recipe, you about how well the gallery is flourishing, how its taking up too much of your time and that you haven’t gotten to create as much as you wanted in the coming months.

Your stomach is overtly full by the time you take the last bite, and you wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin as you say, “I owe you for this, this was incredible.”

Carmy shrugs it off, “You’ve had this a million times.”

“Not from your hands. Not like this, all those tweaks you made shine through.”

It’s impossible to deny the flush that stains his cheeks but you do anyway, sparing your heart. “My hands aren’t special.”

You knock his shoulder with your own, tone teasing as you say, “Sure they are, they’re attached to you aren’t they?”

Carmy finds himself speechless, unable to do anything but stare at you in a mixture of shock and bashfulness. That soft pink blush deepens, and the plain evidence of your effect on him has your heart skipping.

You clear your throat, looking away from his gaze to fiddle with your fork, “I actually have something for you, give you an excuse to see me one more time.”

“I don’t need an excuse to see you.”

“Carmy,” You say knowingly and he dips his head a little in defeat.

“That’s the past. It shouldn’t have happened and– I’m sorry. Y’know, I’m sorry.”

Your gaze softens, and you reach out to squeeze his shoulder soothingly for a moment, “Don’t—like you said it's the past. I need to call in a favor so give me two days? Friday night?”

He melts under your touch, looking over at you with a soft smile, “Friday night.

“I’ll pick you up,” You offer.

“That much of a surprise, huh?”

“We can’t all cook the surprise, sometimes location is all a girl can have.”

“You’ve got more than that. Way more than that.”

“Oh really?” You roll your eyes playfully before meeting his gaze— its heart stopping. Sobering.

His eyes pierce into you, down to the softest part of your heart, the part only ever reserved for him. “Yeah,” He breathes roughly.

When had you gotten so close to him? You can smell his scent, worn leather and cigarettes, a hint of some citrusy cologne that he dabs behind his ears and the slope of his neck. His eyes are impossible to escape, a deep clear blue full intricacies you can’t look away from. Carmy’s just as entranced as you, drawn to you like a bear is to sweet honey. His thumb brushes your own, and you shiver, a soft jagged breath leaving you at his warm touch.

The spell is broken by the shrill of your phone, a telltale ringtone that has guilt blooming in your chest immediately. It’s Kyle.

Both of you lean away from each other quickly and you reach for your bag on the counter, fishing out your phone. “Sorry, it’s Kyle,” You glance at Carmy nervously, holding up your phone awkwardly before you answer.

He sees the heart by Kyle’s name and his own sinks into his stomach, “No, no, you’re good. All good.”

Carmy’s head feels as if it's about to burst, swirling a million miles a minute though he looks no different on the outside. Kyle? Who the fuck was Kyle? He was this out of the loop, had put so much space between the two of you that he doesn’t even know that you’re seeing someone? How long have you been together? Did you live with him? Did you…love him? Want to spend your life with him? Why would Sugar set him up like this— set you up like this, if you had someone?

He listens to you talk, the light that has been shining in his eyes from the moment you stepped into his apartment dimming with each word he hears you speak.

“Hey, honey. No, no, I’m just about to leave. Well, he didn’t start until I got here. Yes, I’ll call you when I’m home. I will. Love you too. Ok, bye.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, he just gets worried about me.”

“I’d worry about you too.” After a beat he murmurs, “I do.”

“I worry about you too,” You whisper shyly.

“Nothing to worry about here, Bee,” He struggles to keep his tone nonchalant.

The strain in his voice has you looking up at him. His eyes are cloudy, sad. He’s trying to keep it together as always and the sight has your will crumbling. You lean closer again, raising your hand to cup his cheek so that he has to meet your eye.

“You don’t have to pretend, Carmen. You know that, right?”

He swallows loudly, unable to hold your eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time. Nodding he places his hand over yours, rubbing it gently, “I know. But it’s easier that way. For all of us.”

Before you can formulate response he gives your hand one last squeeze and rises to his feet. “I’ll pack up some leftovers for you.”

And just like that, the moment is gone. That little glimpse of your Carmy is overshadowed by the one he’s become.

| > chapter 4: Like a Bee to Nectar

18+ carmy taglist: @treefingers , @mrsdominickstark, @princess-of-fanfics, @whore-for-murdock, @xxxstormyninixxx, @dreamingwithlens, @thecraziestcrayon, @jam1esl0v4, @lilylovelyxo, @jadeittic, @jotarokuj0, @bunnysthngs, @gcidrvsh, @mistalli, @luvr-bunnyy, @s3xymoonman, @cosmicspacewitch, @khena, @r0s3mm, @recklessgiraffelife, @i-am-typing, @salinaiacono6

If you ask to be added to the taglist but didn’t verify you’re 18+ you will not be added!

#carmy berzatto x fem!reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fic #carmy berzatto angst #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear fanfiction #the bee and the bear #arson writes the bear #not sfw

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georgiapeach30513 · 7 months

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Kinktober 2023, Day 4

The Spike In My Heart

Summary: You could smell him miles away. It was the sweetest scent you have ever breathed. It was addictive. It was a need. You needed this smell. And what you found was Cole….

Pairings: Cole Turner X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: vampires, stalking, chase kink, explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, PIV sex, licking, overstimulating, blood kink (?), creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.7K

Series Masterlist

The world stopped moving. Time stood still, and all sins had been erased the second that scent dug its hole into your brain.

Obsession. There was no better way to describe it. It wasn’t close to you, but one drop of that decadent blood had set your mouth on fire. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, while you guess the notes of their blood. Man. It was definitely male.

Delicate. Like a field of wildflowers. Bees that gather pollen to create scrumptious honey that makes your mouth water. You need that blood. Already, you are craving something that you hadn’t even tasted.

Masculine. Like a man bathing in a river. The water cascading down his chest, and creating its own waterfalls. Your tongue lapping up the trail until you see his neck pulsing with his life force. You want that.

Angelic. Like a feathery soft sweetness that tickles along your skin. Creating a trail of goosebumps with every inch it touches. Airy and romantic. You desire it.

Your body won’t stop moving until you find the creature that had the most delicious notes of flavor. Stalking through the shadows until you find the smell. A smell that will forever be ingrained in your body. Your soul. A smell that…

You stop at the edge of the forest, tilting your head to the side. Your fangs retreat, and you can’t deny that was him. Your body had two heartbeats as soon as you saw his face. The almost non-existent beat of your heart, and the hard pulse in your pussy. He was beautiful. You had to admit he wasn’t who you were expecting to see.

You had gone through different scenarios on how you could make this dinner last. Had decided you were going to keep him locked up in the basement. But his cheeks sun kissed and red, deserved to be in the sun. The sun would be jealous if you ever took him away.

He is alone, which is more than you could hope because you needed a taste. But he was a bit skittish. Flinching at every little sound. It was adorable. You could chase him. You purposefully step on a branch, and the shovel he is holding drops to the ground, and he looks along the tree lines to find you. He wouldn’t see you unless you wanted him to.

His eyes hitting the light makes him that much more beautiful. He is precious. You want him. Want to protect him. Want to devour him. Even his trembling hand picking up the shovel makes you want to hold him.

Stepping on another fallen branch, he stands rigid scanning even harder, until you step in the light, “Run,” you whisper.

He might not hear it, but he understood. Dropping his shovel again, he races in the opposite direction of you. Predictable. You’d give the poor sap a head start. Sweet angel, even yelps. He smells so much better with his blood laced in fear and…that’s a new scent. He was in danger from something that wasn’t you.

It takes you seconds to catch up to him. His danger taking the fun in the chase away. His speed already slows down as he looks back at you in real fear. His pulse is off. “I don’t want to hurt you, I just want to taste you.”

“That doesn’t make me — feel — better,” he comes to a halt, placing his hands on his knees, “Is there like a — pause button in — this game?”

Deep staggering breaths have him choking before he reaches in his pocket. “It’s not — a gun. I just,” an inhaler. Oh he was a sweet one. He places the mechanism in his mouth, taking a deep puff, but his eyes never stray from you. “Vampires don’t exist.”

“We don’t?” Your fangs expand over your lips as you smile at him. “What makes you think we don’t?”

“So you’re gonna chase me then eat me until I’m dead?”

“Sweetheart,” his cheeks flush back to life as the pink expands over his skin. “I don’t eat people. I suck them.”

“You know, usually sucking sounds fun, but you mean my — and not my…”

“Oh, I could suck that as well if that’s what you required. You’re too sweet to kill. I want to savor you. Nothing has ever smelled sweeter than you.”

“I’m Cole,” Cole is too trusting. He goes quiet while he lets your words marinate in his brain. “Does it hurt?”

“Not if I don’t want it to. I promise there are ways to make you feel nothing but pleasure.”

“And…how — how is that?” You take both Cole and yourself to the ground, giving him a soft little peck to his lips. Your mouth trails across his jaw, giving him the tiniest nibble. And you drag the needle sharp edge of your fang along his skin. Cole arches and whimpers. Tilting his head to the side as he fully submits to you. Allowing you to see the throb of his pulse right on his neck. But it wasn’t the only part of him throbbing.

Sitting up suddenly, you allow yourself to straddle his body. Grinding over his pelvis with a cheeky grin. “Cole, you know the best way to experience this?”

“Wh-wh-what is that?” Your lips start kissing down his body as you undo his shirt. “Can I at least get a name?”

“Call me, Vixie,” you pull apart his shirt completely, marveling at his chiseled physique. Leaning down to lick around each of his nipples.

“So…what…what makes…you know giving you my blood…easier.”

“You’re adorable. Must be why you smell so sweet. Have you not figured out what I’m trying to do?” His head barely shakes no, and you roll your hips over his swollen crotch. “How about now?”

“Uh…w-w-wait…you want to kill me?”

“No, sweetheart, I want to overstimulate you, and give you the best orgasm of your life,” a timid squeaks pops out of his mouth, and just to make sure he understands, you roll your hips again. “What’s that, sweetheart? You want that? Or you want me to just take your blood and hold you captive?”

“Yeah.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“Yes, I want…I don’t want to be a — um — captive. Oh god,” Cole’s eyes roll into the back of his head as you remove your shirt. Reaching behind you to undo your bra, and his mouth waters with need. This was going to go by too fast, but in time, Cole would be able to handle even more.

Getting to your knees, you hover over him. Undoing his pants, you pull them down with ease. Moaning when his cock breaks free, oh he is delicious. Pretty beads of precum on his tip, and even his thick vein is throbbing with need. The need to feel your walls squeeze him tight.

“Where are you going,” he whines when you stand up. But you don’t answer, just shimmy out of your pants before straddling him again. His eyes cast down your body, lingering on your cunt. He watches as you start to sink back down to your knees.

You grab the base of his cock, and he chirps. The sweetest little sound of pleasure and nerves. “Cole, I’ve only just touched you, sweetheart, are you going to be okay with me riding this pretty cock?”

“Yeah. Yes. Most definitely. Ah,” Cole soothes out as you let his tip just touch your weeping cunt. He has the longest drawn out mewl when your body takes every inch. Even your own strangled moan echoes into the wind at how well he fills you up. Giving yourself a moment to adjust, while you look at him. He is struggling.

Biting his lip, his eyes clenched close. “You look like you’re in pain.”

“I’m trying not to come.”

“You’re adorable,” he finally opens his eyes a bit. Peering up at you. “Cole,” you don’t even bounce over him, just give a dirty grind, and his hands grip tight onto your hips while he seethes. “I’ll keep taking you until I come, sweetie. Just relax. Enjoy the ride.”

Reaching behind you, you fondle his balls as you start undulating your hips. Letting him get used to the feeling. He is vocal, and it feeds your ego. Receptive and letting you know how good you were making him feel. All you can see is red as your vision pulses to the rhythm of his pumping blood. Giving the illusion of a bad quality home video, but it made him more beautiful. He lifts his neck up while turning his head. Showing you what really turns you on.

Hard pounding throbs that you no longer can ignore. His dick is already twitching in anticipation of coming.

Leaning over, you start to bounce over him. Taking every veiny inch of him as you sniff up his neck. His scent was mixed with something even more sweet, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to think about that. Laying your tongue flat, you lick a stripe up the sensitive column before your fangs graze over his sticky skin. His body hums in excitement. He is almost there. Almost to his grand finale. He’d hold out longer in time, but you are still going to make sure he is overstimulated.

His moans are so much closer to you, and you feel the hum of it straight to your core. Timing just when you are going to bite him. He’d never want anyone besides you after this. You would be a drug to him.

Just as his breathing hitches, and his voice goes up an octave, you pierce his skin. His taste blows up all your senses, and your vision blacks out. Your body on autopilot as his seed spurts deep into your womb. Slamming yourself over him, the two of your juices create a thick cream that coats his cock and oozes out of you.

He tastes better than you could have ever imagined. Summer rain, the breeze from hummingbird wings, the buzz of the honeybee, the warm glow of a lightning bug, and even the sweetness of wild honeysuckle. His essence drains down your throat, coating your insides. If it wasn’t for your trembling thighs, you wouldn’t even know that you had reached your own peak. It was just Cole.

Taking in a deep inhale, you lick over his punctures. Your saliva acts as a salve while you close up his wounds.

“Cole? Sweetie, can you see?” With a dopey smile, he shakes his head no. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, if you do that again.”

“I’ll make sure to do this everyday. Every hour. Whatever you want.”

“Yeah…”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @buckybarnesisdaddy @magnificentsaladllama

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #cole turner #cole turner x reader #cole turner x fem!reader #cole turner x y/n #cole turner x you #cole turner smut #cole turner fic #cole turner fics #cole turner fanfiction #cole turner fanfic #chris evans #chris evans character #vampire #vampire au

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rhoorl · 1 month

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Strike a Pose

Pairing: Benny Miller x OFC Vanessa (Delta Landscaping Universe)

Word Count: 3.3k | AO3 Link

Delta Landscaping | Benny Miller Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: Benny and Vanessa go on their first date.

Warning: Benny Miller. That’s it. That’s the warning. No, but seriously, I think this is pretty fluffy. Vanessa has some insecurities about her body and a previous bad relationship.

A/N: This is an extended version of a scene from Chapter 15 of Delta Landscaping, but I think it could be read as a standalone. Big thank you to @trulybetty for answering a series of random questions mad libs style - I’ll share more at the end! Also to those reading Delta Landscaping, this does count towards our little bingo board…I hope you enjoy the latest Easter egg 😉

The drive over to the bowling alley was pleasant. Chatting with Benny was so easy and he constantly made me laugh. When I wasn’t laughing I was trying hard to not just stare at the guy – he looked so good. At one point, we stopped at a red light and he casually turned his hat backward and my breath hitched. I coughed to try and play it off.

Saturday night at a popular bowling alley made for a packed parking lot and an even busier lobby. We walked up to check in and the woman at the counter told me that I didn’t have a reservation. I could have sworn I set it up, but I couldn’t find a confirmation email anywhere in my inbox. To make matters worse, she was giving me a pretty snotty attitude saying it would be at least a two-hour wait.

I was so annoyed with myself, I’m usually better about stuff like this. Lord knows I love a plan. But Benny didn’t even bat an eye, he just told me to “Stay here darlin’” as he waltzed back over to the attendant who so rudely turned me away a few moments ago. He leaned against the counter and flashed a smile and some puppy dog eyes. It’s no wonder she folded and gave him whatever he wanted – shit, I would too.

He motioned for me to come over, “What size you got doll?”

“Ah, um….8 and a half if you have it?” I asked the woman, confused as to how they miraculously found us a lane.

The attendant gave me an up-and-down and looked at Benny before she turned around and plopped two pairs of shoes onto the counter. “Lane 22.” She said with a deadpan expression.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Benny winked. “C’mon, darlin’ let’s go,” Benny lightly laid his hand on the small of my back which sent goosebumps up my spine.

“How’d you manage to find us a lane?”

“Well, you always catch more bees with honey,” he looked over with a smirk.

“So a nice smile is honey now huh?” I quipped, the words coming out before I could think it through.

“Oh I have a nice smile don’t I?” Benny chuckled. I averted my eyes, hoping that the warmth I was feeling in my cheeks wasn’t too apparent. “Here we go, lane 22. After you.”

We went to pick our bowling balls. I opted for a bright pink one pretty quickly, while Benny had to test several out. There’s a method to my madness he told me as he picked up ball after ball. I don’t know what came over me but watching his fingers slot into each…nevermind, I can’t think about that.

He eventually found one he liked and we started our game. It’s been years since I’ve done this but it was fun, even though I was playing with a ringer. I had more gutterballs than pins I knocked down, but Benny didn’t make me feel bad. It was sweet, actually. He tried to help me a couple of times, standing behind me, one hand lightly on my hip as he directed me where to aim. I honestly had no idea what he was saying, feeling his breath close to my ear it was a miracle I was still standing.

We finished the first game just as our food arrived. Not only was it impressive that he bowled a perfect game, he did it with mostly trick shots. It was cute how he seemed to get excited trying to impress me.

“Are you serious?” I shook my head. It was unfair, he wasn’t even looking at his last shot. His back was to the lane and he just let the ball fly behind him. He sauntered over to me with a big grin and a swagger that made me take an extra few sips of my water.

“Ooo yay, the food is here,” he rubbed his hands together, looking at the spread. I was a little self-conscious about ordering so much food, but he mentioned how training was making him hungry.

“Wait wait!” I needed to take advantage and grab some photos. “Sorry, I um…one sec,” I bit my bottom lip as I pulled out my phone and started to rearrange the plates. I could see Benny out of the corner of my eye looking confused as I started taking photos. “Sorry…I am one of those people, annoying I know, but I figured tonight was a good excuse to start up my account again,” I finished my little impromptu photoshoot with a couple of quick videos to use for my stories. “Phone eats first,” I winked motioning that the coast was clear.

“What kind of account you have?”

“Oh, it’s just on Instagram…I started it a few years back…it’s a fun way to explore the food scene and…sorry this is all boring I’ll stop,” I laughed to myself.

“No, no, it’s not boring, I like it. I like food, clearly,” he motioned to the four plates in front of him which made me snort. “Lemme see, I wanna follow.” He motioned toward my phone with his chin.

I reluctantly handed him the phone and watched as he scrolled my account. My heart was racing wondering if he was going to think this was a stupid little hobby like Luce did. I saw his forehead scrunch and I felt a pit in my stomach, ready for the impending snide comment.

“What? I know I don’t always have the best lighting, I’ve been meaning to buy myself a little light thing and - “

“No, hey,” he put his hand on my forearm, which sent an electric pulse up my body. I suddenly realized my sister was right and it was probably too warm for me to be wearing this flannel after all. “No this is great, these photos are beautiful…I just was wondering where you were.”

“What?”

“I don’t see you in any of these photos. Maybe your hands every once in a while, but how come you’re not in these?” He shook the phone as he turned it back to me.

There was a reason for that. It started off innocently enough, with one random troll making a comment about how I should spend less time going out to eat and more time on the treadmill. I could shake it off, one comment wasn’t going to bring me down. But as my account grew, the more of these I got – mostly from blank profiles. They didn’t even have the decency to show themselves, just letting their keyboards sling harmful words. So, I deleted every photo I was in, but eventually, that wasn’t enough so I just put a pause on the account.

“Oh…I…um…I dunno I guess I’d rather have the focus be on the food,” I looked down, playing with the straw of her water.

“Hmm…” Benny nodded, handing back my phone. He pulled his out and started typing. My eyes narrowed trying to figure out what he was up to. “There, you have a new follower,” he winked.

I saw the notification pop up and I had to steady my breath as I saw his profile picture because he looked so hot. It was a black and white photo of him in a white tank top and the same black hat he had on tonight. I clicked on his profile and almost choked seeing how many followers he had. “Holy shit, are you like an influencer or something?!”

He looked a bit sheepish, “I started the account when I got into fighting…a way to promote them…and then I just kept posting gym stuff and it grew from there.”

“Well, you have a lot of very loyal fans it seems,” I smirked, scrolling past some very thirsty comments.

I’ve been down this road before. A pretty boy who has women throwing themselves at him. I nearly wrote men off completely after Lucien, but thanks to Vic and Marcus I realized that he was a very unique breed. I hadn’t known him long at all but I knew Benny was different. He obviously knew he was a good-looking guy, but there was something sweet and endearing about him. And no, this isn’t just me being mesmerized by his eyes…which also was happening.

“Pope used to date a girl who did social media stuff for her job so she set it up for me. I don’t post a ton, but it’s there. I’m mostly on there to help keep an eye on my niece, lord knows her dad is a lost cause when it comes to anything on his phone that’s more than making a call,” he chuckled to himself. “But now I’m excited to see your food stuff on my feed,” he smiled.

“Well thanks…I started the account when I lived in Charlotte…gave me an excuse to get around and explore,” I gave a tight smile as I bit into a slider.

“Maybe we can explore some stuff…together?” his hopeful eyes made me slow down my chewing.

“Um…ok, yeah sure, that’d be fun,” I smiled back, trying to hide how giddy I was. “Although you may regret what you’re signing yourself up for,” I winked.

He looked at me with a lopsided grin and leaned in. “Oh, I don’t think I’m gonna regret it at all, boss lady.”

We snacked on the rest of the food as we bowled another game. I managed to knock down a few more pins this time and Benny, again, bowled a perfect game. As the time expired on our lane, a bittersweet feeling came over me. I had a lot of fun tonight, laughing and getting a chance to forget about things for a while. I honestly didn’t want it to end.

________________________

As he opened the passenger side door for me he stopped, biting his lip and digging his hand into his pocket. “I…uh…d’you wanna go somewhere else? Or if you need to get home that’s ok too, I just figured maybe we can-”

“No, that's fine. I don’t have a curfew.” That comment made him laugh, which was like music to my ears. It was so pure.

“Nice. Uh, wanna go get a drink somewhere? Is there a place you want to check out for your account?”

“Umm yeah, maybe here let me scroll through some stuff I saved.”

“Get in, we can figure it out,” he opened the door for me.

Within a few minutes, we settled on a new bar that was pretty close by. It was a casual place, which I was thankful for considering how both of us were dressed.

Walking in, I noticed Benny scan the room. Now that I thought of it, he did the same thing earlier when we walked into the bowling alley. If I didn't know any better it seemed like he was trying to get a handle on where all the exits were or something.

We found a booth tucked in the back and I was surprised when he followed to sit on the same side of the booth as me. He sat close, our legs touching as we shared a menu.

“So…what're you thinking?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Hmm…I'm not sure, everything looks so good. Kinda thinking of this espresso martini. What about you?”

“Espresso this late?” He chuckled.

“I'm Cuban, Bun. I've been drinking espresso since I was like four. You build up a tolerance,” I winked.

He licked his bottom lip as he looked down and laughed. “Ah makes sense. Is there a drink you think would make for a good picture? I can order that.”

I could have melted right there. In just a couple of hours he'd shown more support for this account than my ex had shown in years.

“Aww that's sweet, but seriously, order whatever you want. Everything here looks awesome.”

He twisted his mouth to the side as he read through the menu again. “Hmm ok, I'm thinking this smoked Old Fashioned then.”

I had to laugh at myself when the drinks arrived. I could hear Marcus in my head making some comment about how they both looked “Insta-worthy.” The Old Fashioned Benny ordered came with a beautiful presentation. I was able to capture the smoke billowing out of the glass container as they unveiled the drink. My creative juices were flowing and I couldn't wait to edit and post some of these photos.

“Hey, can I try and take some photos?” Benny asked with a lopsided grin.

My eyes narrowed wondering what he was up to, but I was intrigued so I handed over my phone. He started off innocently enough taking some photos of the drinks and the bar, but the next thing I knew he flipped the camera around and wrapped his arm around me to snap a few photos of the two of us. I brought my hand to my mouth as I laughed, turning into his neck to hide. Being this close to him made my brain short-circuit a bit.

“There, some for your personal collection,” he said softly. He still kept his arm around me and I swear it felt like he was rubbing his thumb up and down my shoulder.

I turned to look at him and the hustle and bustle of the bar faded away and it was just the two of us sitting on a bench. His eyes looked even more blue up close and the smell of his cologne filled my nostrils. If he kissed me right there I would have been more than ok with it.

The waitress coming back to check on us pulled us both back to the present. It was getting late so Benny asked for the check and paid, even though I was more than willing to. He'd taken care of everything this evening. I wanted to split things but he would tsk and say “no ma'am” and pull out his card instead.

___________________

He walked close to me as we made our way back to his car side-by-side. It felt like his hand brushed against mine a few times, but I thought maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me. The drive home was a bit quieter. I was running through different ways I thought the night may end…trying to not get my hopes up for how I wanted it to end.

“Right, well Mari will be happy to know I got you home safe,” Benny said with a tight smile as he parked the car.

“Yeah, don’t want to get on her bad side. Although I don’t think you could do anything to get on her bad side, she’s pretty taken with you,” I laughed as I undid my seatbelt and grabbed my crossbody.

“Here, ah…let me walk you to the door.” He quickly turned off the car and unbuckled his seatbelt, getting out before I could object. He waited for me to come around the front of the car, again lightly placing his hand on the small of my back as we walked up the walkway to the porch.

“Thanks for tonight, I had a lot of fun,” I smiled as I started looking for my keys.

Benny put a hand in each of his pockets and rocked slightly forwards and backward. “I…ah…I had a lot of fun too…even if I kicked your ass in bowling,” he chuckled.

I feigned offense, “Hey now! I didn’t know I was up against a professional.”

“It’s not my fault I’m good at that stuff,” he said with a sheepish grin.

“What other stuff are you good at?” I asked, not realizing I was biting my lip.

The energy changed and I think Benny must have felt it too with the way he sucked in a breath. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he closed the distance between us. Everything felt like it was simultaneously happening at warped speed but also in slow motion. As he got closer to me, the front door opened. Marcus. Marcus stood there with a garbage bag in his hand.

“Oh…ah…shoot, sorry,” he winced. “I was cleaning up a bit and I um…’scuse me,” he walked in between us giving me an apologetic look.

Benny rubbed the back of his neck, “Right well, I’ll get going. Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

I nodded, trying to catch my breath since my heart felt like it was beating in my throat. “Um, yeah. That’d be n-nice. I’d like that.”

Marcus walked back up, wringing his hands together as he approached us. “Hey, I ah…I don’t want to impose or anything, but um…Vic and I are celebrating our anniversary on Friday…10 years…we were planning on taking the day off together. I have a few things planned. But, we were talking and Benny if you want to help Vandy you guys can take the kids to the zoo or aquarium or something.”

“Marcus, you can’t just ask him to spend the day with two little kids…” I shook my head.

“N-no, it’s ok. Congrats by the way. I…uh…I like kids. The guys say it’s because I’m just a big kid myself,” Benny chuckled to himself.

“You really don’t have to Benny….Marcus,” I gave him a look that said we’re talking about this later.

“I really don’t mind. Besides, you’re going to tell Mariella that she could have spent a whole day with me and you said no,” he waggled his eyebrows at me with a grin.

“She’s the boss around here you know,” Marcus added.

“We can talk about it…don’t feel like you have to make a commitment or anything tonight. I’ll um…I’ll see you later Benny. Thanks again.” I reached up, wrapping my arms around his neck for a hug.

He wrapped both arms around me, squeezing me tight. “I had a lot of fun tonight,” he whispered in my ear, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “Have a good night Marcus.” He said with a small wave as he backed his way off the porch and walked back to his car.

“I can’t believe you,” I hissed at Marcus as we walked through the door.

“Shoot I’m sorry Vandy,” he scratched his head. “I was listening to music as I was cleaning up, I didn’t hear you all pull up. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.”

I inhaled through my nose, counting to five so I didn’t freak out on him. “It’s fine, Buck.”

“So…how’d it go?” He followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I poured myself a glass of water.

“Good. Really good. He’s a nice guy and we had a lot of fun.”

He pushed himself off the counter and came over wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “That makes me happy, you deserve it.” He kissed my forehead and I hugged him back.

_______________________

As I lay in bed, I started going through my photos from the night, trying to decide which ones I would post. I came across the photos Benny took. I hadn’t looked at them at the time but now I was able to see the way he looked at me in those photos. I didn’t even spend time picking apart how I looked. My eyes were zoned in on him – on the way his eyes crinkled or the big smile across his face. It gave me butterflies.

I had enough photos to split things up over a few posts, so I decided to go with a photo of Benny’s Old Fashioned from tonight. I was pretty pleased with myself at how I was able to capture the smoke. I didn’t know what to put for the caption but landed on “Great drinks. Better company.” and posted it. Within 30 seconds I heard my phone buzz. And then a few seconds later it buzzed again.

I had two Instagram notifications – both from Benny – a like on the post and a comment.

thatbmiller: Better company indeed.

The biggest grin came across my face and I had to cover my mouth to stop from squealing. I liked the comment and then felt another buzz, this time it was a text.

Benny: I had fun tonight.

Vanessa: Me too. Thanks for liking my photo

Benny: Of course.

Benny: So, I was thinking….aquarium?

Vanessa: Yeah, I’d like that.

A/N: That meddling Marcus 😆 for as much as he’s helped these two get together he’s also inadvertently cockblocked them too. Ok, so earlier I mentioned how @trulybetty answered some random questions I threw in her inbox one day… here’s what I asked, what her answer was, and how I used it in the story.

Pick a color: Pink (the bowling ball Vanessa chose)

Pick a number between 18-25; 22 (the lane they got)

Yes or No This was going to be whether or not they sat on the same side at the booth at the bar, so because she said yes, that’s why Benny went ahead and tucked himself into the same side of the booth.

A drink: Espresso martini (the drink Vanessa ordered at the bar)

Phrase: “You catch more bees with honey” (what Benny says after he sweet-talked his way to getting them a lane after Vanessa was initially turned away).

I hope you enjoyed this. I’m excited to share more about Benny and Vanessa in DL and beyond. Some of it may or may not already be written…. 😉

#miller monday #benny miller fanfiction #benny miller x ofc #benny miller #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #garrett hedlund fanfiction

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mi-i-zori · 1 month

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Blooming Love - Golden Hearts

CoD - Gaz x GN!Florist!Reader

SYNOPSIS : When Gaz stumbles upon a beautiful flower with the sweetest of secrets.

WARNINGS : Tons of fluff. Mention of Gaz being deployed, but nothing more.

I do not give permission to re-publish, re-use and/or translate my works, be it here or on any other platform.

Thinking about a Florist!Reader who secretly uses the language of flowers in their creations.

When an ex-lover asks for « a bouquet for their partner », probably trying to make them jealous, they simply offer a very professional smile before putting together a beautiful ensemble of bright flowers that basically tells the couple to go fuck themselves.

On the other hand, when a sweet old man tells them the order is for his daughter, who just gave birth to a beautiful baby, they whip up a bouquet full of warm and colourful love.

(Should we ever add a little magic in it, they could probably spread spells though their work. Silently wishing for a woman’s child to get better after a rough trip to the hospital ; maybe accidentally pouring negative emotions into a new batch of plants, hindering their growth or even straight up killing them because of the pressure. This is why they have to be extremely careful about their feelings when entering their little plant heaven, in case they end up bringing harm to their flowery friends.)

I can see Gaz stumbling inside their little shop for an occasion he didn’t really think about. He immediately takes a liking to the pretty bee buzzing around the place, honeyed timbre humming a song he remembers hearing once in a nearby café. When they ask what kind of flowers he would like for his bouquet, he simply tells them to follow their instincts. He leans against the counter, mesmerised as they carefully pick up a series of beautiful blooms with a serene look on their face.

He ends up coming back, again and again. His apartment is quickly filled with a sweet, flowery scent as he keeps ordering bouquets, using thousands of stupid excuses to justify his never-ending orders - even though they probably know he is going to take them home. In the end, he sneaks a flirty edge to his voice when he confesses, his tone underlining how they are the one who sparked his newfound love for plants.

His occupation doesn’t really allow him to keep anything more than a few ephemeral beauties, but it doesn’t stop him from waltzing in the shop with an enthusiastic greeting, his smile widening when they answer in their own sing-song voice.

« You remind me of a Moonflower, » they once tell him during one of his visits after a long deployment. They softly trace the dark circles lining his eyes, and he can’t help the way he quietly leans in their touch.

« Why ? » He asks, and he barely realises their voices are now barely a whisper.

« Because they’re seen as a symbol of blossoming in dark times. You keep facing the darkness of this world, yet here you are : standing proud and tall, with a dazzling smile painted on your face. »

One day, he watches them curiously as they carry a bucket full of red tulips to their workspace and mumble about how, despite not being people’s first choice when it comes to conveying their feelings, they are strongly associated with true love. They beam while telling him they are about to make a piece full of love for a marriage, and he realises their work might be more than just handling flowers and plants. The next day, he runs to the bookstore with a blooming interest for this new, exciting side of his love’s personality, immediately purchasing a few books about the language of flowers.

He carefully plans his next steps while being deployed. Soap’s teasing antics can’t seem to make his focus falter, even though his thoughts are constantly plagued by the hypnotising smile of the Flower waiting for him back home.

The first thing he does after finally coming back is follow the path to the flower shop. He easily catches them when they greet him with an excited hug, his stomach churning pleasantly when the familiar sweetness of their scent invades his senses. Though his mind seems blurred, his voice doesn’t waver when he asks them for a gorgeous bouquet of red tulips and roses.

« I found love, » he says.

Something flickers in their gaze, though it disappears quickly behind a smile.

He soon resumes his usual observations as they fly around their shop with practiced ease, his eyes picking up a few quirks in their normally perfect dance. Their hands tremble slightly as they finally wrap the ensemble of stems with clear paper. They barely manage to hide their hesitation when they wonder out loud who the lucky person might be, a false playfulness floating in their tone.

He doesn’t hesitate to place the bouquet in their hands, his lips meeting with their cheek. They immediately hide against his chest, and he can’t help but laugh at their little squeals, savouring the way their body fits so wells against his.

They hold the flowers close to their heart as they finally grace him with a kiss, the both of them finally allowing their feelings to bloom under the sunshine of their love.

#cod gaz #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #cod gaz x reader #x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #gn reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw3

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corazondebeskar-reads · 4 months

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you know you never stood a chance - deleted scene #1

you know you never stood a chance series

deleted scene #1: you don't have to go home

series masterlist

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 3.5k

Summary: set after the finale (like a few hours later lol) but before the epilogue. Joel catches a moderate but not life-threatening illness that forces you to tackle a subject you'd rather avoid.

Warnings: established relationship, angst, technically spoilers for tlou pt 2, poor communication, p in v, illness, anxiety, avoidance of feelings, major life decisions

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

When you see Tommy’s smug face at dinner, you turn on the heel of your boot to leave.

“Where’re you going?” Ellie says, coming up behind you. “You eating outside?”

“Sure, yup, that’s it,” you say, clutching your tray with both hands.

“Cool! Joel, I’m going to eat outside too,” she calls over her shoulder.

You risk a glance to see Joel looking at the two of you, brows wrinkled. He shrugs, and Tommy shakes his head at you.

“Chicken,” he mouthes.

You flip him off and go find a patch of grass to picnic on.

Ellie talks while she eats, food occasionally spraying out of her rapid-fire mouth. You’re more than happy to sit quietly and listen, to hear about the other kids she’s met and the neat things she’s found in her new room.

Your fortune doesn’t last. Tommy comes out of the hall with his hands in his pockets, still smirking.

“Ellie, why don’t you go grab some dessert?” he says as he helps himself to a seat on the ground.

“No thanks,” she says, looking between you.

“It’s pie,” he says.

“No thanks,” she says again. She puts on a very unnerving fake smile made worse by her widened eyes.

“He’s trying to get you to leave—“ you start.

She interrupts. “I know. I wanna hear whatever it is.”

“He’s trying to get you to leave so he can ask me about grownup stuff.”

Her nose crinkles as she catches on. “Ugh,” she groans and hauls herself to her feet before going inside. She takes both of your empty trays with her, and you feel a little sting of pride, however misplaced.

“So,” Tommy grins. “Nothin’ between you ‘n my brother, huh?”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. “Shut up.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

You look up, and the smugness is gone. “What all did he tell you?”

“Just that y’all had ‘some kinda situation’ back in Boston. And that you stayed over there last night.”

You snort and shake your head. “I guess ‘some kinda situation’ is about right. I didn’t want to tell you I was fuckin’ him for rent.”

His eyes widen. “Shit.”

“Yeah. And for food, before that. Didn’t want you to think I was a whore, I guess.” You’re sitting with your legs crossed, but it doesn’t stop your knee from bouncing as you look anywhere but Tommy.

“Hey, no,” he says, leaning forward. “Look, ain’t nothin’ wrong with surviving however you got to.”

You feel a wretched sting at the corner of your eyes. He was always so goddamn genuine, but it was still hard to accept his words at their value.

He scoots over and grabs your hand. “I mean it. I’m not gonna judge you for that.”

“Thanks,” you whisper, squeezing his hand.

“That why you don’t wanna move into their place?”

“What?”

“I was gonna offer to help move your stuff, but Joel said you told Ellie you were stayin’ put.”

“Do you need me to? To make room for someone?”

“No! No, you can stay. I just figured you’d want the company. And well, Joel said—“

You wait, but he pretends to be distracted by a honey bee.

“Joel said what?”

“Just, he thought you would. Since y’all lived together before, and you talked about it.”

You snort. “We talked about it? Is that what he calls our conversation from this morning?”

“I dunno. It’s Joel. You think he gave me all the details?”

“Fair. Nah, I’d like to stay on my own. Not that anyone asked me to do anything different.”

It’s then that Maria wanders out with Alé, setting her down to explore. She screws up her little face, ready to rage about being placed on her tummy before she realizes she’s somewhere fun.

Joel and Ellie come out a few moments later to find the three of you watching Alé intently. She’s given up on trying to eat the grass after several unsuccessful attempts. Her little fist would open and close, only to find herself empty-handed when she brought it to her mouth.

Now, however, she’s returned to frustration and is attempting to roll herself onto her back.

It’s not going well, but you’re all watching and encouraging her.

Ellie squats to peer down at her. “You’re like a big potato,” she says.

Joel wipes a hand down his face. “Ellie,” he warns.

“What?”

“Is that any way to talk to your cousin?”

She looks up at him, startled. “Uhh. I don’t know. I’ve never had a cousin before.” She regards Alé again. “You’re a strong potato. You can do it.”

Alé responds with a loud yell as she pushes again and then falls quiet as she finds herself flat on her back looking up at Ellie.

Her little audience cheers and claps, unfortunately startling her. Maria and Tommy shower her in praise, and you stand up, stepping back by Joel.

“You comin’ back to ours?” he says, not looking at you.

“No, not tonight.” You need the space. You’ve grown accustomed to being alone, found peace in it even, and the last two days have been a new kind of exhausting.

But you see the way his lips twitch into a scowl before he schools his face back to neutral.

“Mind walking me home?” you offer.

The tension falls just a fraction from his shoulders. “Course not,” he says. “You gotta lead the way, though.”

Tommy shoots you a look you don’t know how to interpret when you say goodnight.

“Are you going to be gross? Do I need to stay out of the house?” Ellie says far too loudly.

“Nah, you’re safe,” Joel says, shaking his head.

It’s weird. You hold hands on the walk back. It’s a quiet intimacy you’d never even considered to share with him before.

The warmth of his palm and cradle of his fingers are undeniably nice.

It’s also undeniably awkward. You stand on your porch, stiffly holding hands like he hasn’t been inside you a hundred times over.

You look up at him and appreciate the way the sunset falls across his back.

He brings his free hand up to cup the back of your head and gives you maybe the chastest kiss you’ve ever had. Certainly more than you ever thought him capable of. It kind of hurts your feelings, actually.

“What the hell was that?”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“You kissed me like I’m your grandma!”

He rolls his eyes to high heaven. “I was tryin’ to be respectful.”

“Gross. You know what? That was disrespectful. Kiss me proper, Miller.”

He’s more than happy to oblige, even though it results in the boner he was trying to avoid in the first place. He gets you pressed up against your front door with a handful of ass and your soft moans against his lips.

You break away when you hear a voice down the road and put your hand against his chest, gently pushing him back.

“Guess I should get goin’,” he says. He doesn’t move, though.

You’re all too aware of the way his cock is straining against his jeans and you almost invite him in. How you manage to find the self-control not to, you’ll never know. But it feels important, somehow, that you sleep alone tonight.

“You wanna meet up for breakfast in the morning?”

“Yeah, okay,” he says. His hands rest on your hips as he steals one last kiss. “I’ll see ya then, sweetheart.”

You can’t seem to stomach the idea of watching him walk away, so you go inside.

He waits until he hears the deadbolt click before he heads for home.

Summer withers, and autumn sees you spending the night together a couple of times a week. Always you at theirs—you never ask him over to your place. It’s a silly line you’ve drawn, and even though you know you’re the one who put it there, you feel bitter on the cold nights alone.

Worse yet, you know you’re only doing it out of stubbornness. You made a big fucking deal out of it, and now you have to stick with it so it doesn’t look like you’re weak. Like you can’t be alone. Like you need him.

And also, no one has fucking asked you to do any differently, so. Whatever.

But it’s not like you don’t know that he wants to.

No, he hasn’t asked, but he may as well have. His clothes are kept to one side of the closet. There are three empty drawers in his dresser.

His books are crammed on the top half of the shelves in the living room, stacked askew in a way you knew had to drive him crazy. The fuck you quilt hangs over the back of the sofa, though it’s more often found wrapped around Ellie.

By the first snowfall, he keeps a toothbrush for you in the medicine cabinet beside his own. There’s a Joel-shaped indent in the left side of the mattress, betraying how the right stays vacant when you’re gone.

The list goes on. The coffee mug. The little tin of vaseline for your chapped lips on the nightstand. All the spaces where nothing sits, waiting.

But he doesn’t ask.

You haven’t seen Joel for two days. It’s weird. You’re not sure how to feel about it—you’re the one who wanted space, after all. But so far, you’ve at least met at the mess hall for a meal each day.

You’re walking home after working the breakfast shift on the third day when Ellie catches up with you. You’ve seen her around but haven’t wanted to ask after Joel, not wanting her to think you only talked to her for him.

She looks nervous, though. She’s fiddling with her sleeves and won’t look at you, so you come to a stop.

“What’s going on, kiddo?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you.”

“Sure, that’s not suspicious or anything.” You’re trying not to be anxious, but her energy is rubbing off.

“Look, don’t get mad; I only agreed not to because it didn’t seem like a big deal, but now it seems like a big deal—”

“Are you in trouble? Is somebody making you uncomfortable?” A thousand bad scenarios have come to life in your mind, each increasingly ridiculous but horrifying. Maybe that’s why Joel’s missing. Maybe someone laid a hand on Ellie, and he killed them. You hope he did.

“What? No,” her scoff cuts through your panic. “Joel’s sick. He didn’t want you to come by and get sick, so he made me promise not to say anything. But he’s being stupid, and now he can barely walk to the bathroom without hacking up a lu—wait, where are you going?”

“Where do you think I’m going? I’m going to give your idiot father a piece of my mind,” you growl.

She jogs to catch up with you, but her face is red, and she won’t look at you again.

Your brain catches up with your tongue, and you pause. “Hey, I didn’t mean to be weird—”

“It’s fine,” she says. “Let’s go. I wanna watch you yell at him.”

You don’t. Not right away, at least. He’s asleep when you get there, and honestly, it’s a little upsetting how unwell he looks. It kind of shakes the anger right out of you.

You promise Ellie you’ll wait for her to come home to yell at him.

The idea of climbing into bed with him is extremely tempting. Instead, you start to draw warm water for a bath and tidy up the things left behind in the wake of his deteriorating condition.

It’s not much. Even sick, Joel is relatively neat. Also, it’s pretty obvious that he’s been living in the same sweats and tee for the last three days. You make sure to set a clean outfit and warm socks on the bathroom counter.

With Ellie bringing dinner from the mess later, you don’t have much to do other than brew tea. The kettle’s on when you hear a groan from upstairs.

He’s heaved himself to sitting when you crack the door open.

“Ellie, I told you to stay out. I don’t want to get you sick.” His voice is crackling and raspy.

You push it open, scowling. “Well, you didn’t tell me shit, so.”

The glower is there immediately. “I’m tellin’ you now, then. Get out.”

“Nope. You lost that chance. Now you’re gonna suck it up and get taken care of.” You start stripping the sweaty sheets off his bed while he’s still sitting on it. “Go on and get in the bath.”

“I’m just gonna lay back down for a bit,” he mumbles.

You press the back of your hand against his forehead, followed by your lips. “You’re burning up. Get in the tub.”

But when you stand, his head follows, and you let him rest against your stomach for a minute, carding your hand through his damp hair.

“C’mon,” you urge, tugging at his hand. He lets you lead him into the bathroom, a marker of how sick he really must be.

The kettle hollers while he’s stripping down, and he’s settled once you return with the tea.

“I don’t want any shitty leaf water right now,” he grumps.

“Too bad! It has honey and lemon, and your throat’s seen better days.”

He accepts the cup, but he’s scowling.

“Y’know, you’re not very scary, butt ass naked in a tub with an owl on your mug,” you remark, sitting on the floor and leaning against the cabinet so you can see him.

“You shouldn’t be here. You’re going to get sick. Did Ellie squeal?”

“Joel, I haven’t seen you in three days. Did you think I wasn’t going to get worried?”

His scowl pouts. “I didn’t mean to worry ya.”

“Yeah, well, you did. So. Don’t do that again.” You purse your lips and look at your tea.

“Hey,” he says, water sloshing as he shifts to get a better look at you. “You don’t gotta do… all this,” he says, gesturing to the mug and the bedroom, where you’ve tucked clean sheets onto his mattress.

“I know.”

He’s loathe to admit it, but the bath did help. Worse yet, the tea helped. He feels a little more human in clean clothes, but you still refuse his help cleaning up.

When you’re done, however, you peel back the blanket and crawl into bed with him. So maybe it’s not all bad, he thinks.

At least, until Ellie gets home and you properly scold him.

He’s asleep more than he’s awake, so you stay. You toss and turn and check on him about a hundred times. If the fever would break, you’d feel better. Except no, you wouldn’t, because that cough that’s settled in his chest scares you far more than you’d like to admit.

You’re not privy to the medical stock in Jackson, but you have a bad feeling that an old man with pneumonia wouldn’t be high on the list for antibiotics.

Not that you think he’d accept them, anyway. He’d be too worried about using up something a kid might need. Or anyone else. He doesn’t seem to realize anyone would put him first.

You and Ellie just might let the town burn for him. (But when you think of Alé, you kind of get it.)

Anyway. When he’s awake, he’s groggy, but you manage to convince him to eat. Never much at once, so you make sure it’s soup or oatmeal. Something soft and packed with nutrients.

On the third day of your stay, he starts to come ‘round the mend. The fever breaks. He starts to stay awake for longer than a couple of hours.

You set him up with what you can and return to your life, but you can’t make yourself go home at night. It’s just because of the damn cough, you tell yourself. You just need to keep an eye on it.

A couple of nights later, he’s awake when you peel the covers back and slide in behind him, arm curling around his waist. You press a kiss to the nape of his neck, nestling in as he rewards you with a contented hum. He lets you hold him for a minute, basking in the embrace before he rolls onto his back.

You’re clinging to him a little too tight.

“Rough patrol?” He says.

You shake your head where it’s buried in his tee. “Nothin’ we couldn’t handle.”

“Don’t like you havin’ to handle anything,” he grumbles. He knows, both because he’s been told repeatedly and because he’s seen you handle the weapon, that you can protect yourself now.

It doesn’t mean he likes it.

“I was with Tommy. We were fine.” You yawn. It has to be past two now, what with shift change come midnight and then all the cleanup after.

He slips his arm under you so he can tug you closer, rubbing a hand up and down your arm. You press a kiss in the thicket of hair at the center of his chest, and he wonders if he’ll ever get used to this. He hopes not—he doesn’t ever want to take it for granted.

You yawn again, eyes watering, but your exhaustion is betrayed by the way your hips press against his thigh.

“What do you need, darlin’? Want me to lick your pussy until you fall asleep?”

“Can I ride you?” you counteroffer.

He groans, cock twitching to attention. “Of course, pretty girl.”

He helps you straddle him and reaches to peel the old t-shirt off your body so he can admire your tits in the moonlight. And the way your face goes soft when you see how he’s looking at you.

You waste no time, shifting around until you’ve got his cock in your hand and are settling atop it. You moan in tandem as he spreads you, the broad tip of him easily pressing through the slick.

“Needy tonight, huh? What’s got you all worked up?” he teases.

“Just you,” you say through a gasp as you grind down all the way.

He reaches up, maybe for your breasts, but you don’t find out. Instead, you intercept them and entwine your fingers.

He gets the idea and holds firm, ever your unwavering foundation. You use his support to gyrate, hips grinding as your thighs push around his to slide up and down on his cock.

Your palms are sweaty, but his grip is tight and desperate. His head tilts back, exposing the long column of his neck.

“Fuck,” you whimper as you get the angle just right. It makes you jerk a little, bumping that sweet spot again. He grunts, teeth gritted as you clamp down around him. When he looks back up at you, he’s positively ravenous.

“No,” you say before he opens his mouth with some bullshit.

“C’mon,” he whines.

“You’re still sick. I’m not lettin’ you cough up a lung. You’re gonna lay there and take what I give ya.”

His eyes narrow at the over the top Texan accent you saved for the last bit. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“You think I’m funny. You love all my jokes.”

“Damned if I don’t,” he grumbles, but it’s betrayed by the look in his eyes. “You, too, y’know.”

You almost freeze up but decide to play obtuse. “You’re right; I do love all my jokes.”

He opens his mouth again, so you change pace a little to throw him off.

It works.

Whatever he was about to say, which you know damn well but aren’t prepared to handle right now, comes out as a broken moan.

In the end, it slips out of you a few days later. It’s not triggered by anything; he doesn’t do anything charming, there’s no intense moment of intimacy or heroism that inspires it.

You don’t mean to say it, but you do mean it.

You’re sitting side by side on his porch, steaming mugs of tea in hand. The pale winter sun has barely broken the horizon, but you had still agreed to come out in the cold with him. Agreed it might be good for him to get some fresh air.

The fuck you quilt is draped over both your shoulders. Joel had grabbed it on the way out the door while you balanced the tea and put your boots on. It cocoons you, but there’s still a little space between you, knees knocking together but bodies apart.

You watch his breath curl out into the dawn, and it just happens.

“I love you, Joel,” you say. It’s quiet, softer than the creak of the swing. It takes you by surprise, as your tongue so often does, but you don’t try to reel it back or brace for disaster.

You don’t need to. You know.

But he freezes. Pauses.

He didn’t know, you realize, he wasn’t sure. All this time, he wasn’t saying it but still making sure you knew.

But you haven’t done the same for him.

He didn’t know.

He wraps his free arm around your shoulder and tucks you into him, chin resting on your head. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

The peace lasts for about a minute.

“Now will you stop being so goddamn stubborn and move in?”

*title from "Closing Time" by Semisonic

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #you know you never stood a chance series #the last of us fic #the last of us smut #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou 2 spoilers #tlou fic #the last of us pt 2 spoilers

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faerybones3 · 2 months

Text

Which Witch

Fìli x witch!reader

tags: flirty banter, witchcraft, stab wound, palm reading, fili is a flirt, the dwarves get very drunk lol, thorin is an asshole

word count: 2.8k

previous part | series masterlist

Chapter Two

The man facing you was beautiful and ethereal. You had never seen beauty like his before. You could have looked upon his face forever.

You called to him, “Who are you?”

He did not answer. He turned from you and began walking away.

“Wait, stop!”

You tried to follow him, but you felt as though you were walking underwater. He was getting further and further away, but you knew you must reach him. You ran with all your might, trying desperately to catch up to him. He finally stopped, and when you reached him, you grabbed his arm, turning him around to face you again. You needed to look upon his face, just once more.

But as he turned, you saw that his face was gone. In its place was a gaping, black void.

You screamed and released him. Was that laughter? He was laughing at you. The noise seeped into you and you could feel it under your skin, crawling like thousands of spiders. You continued to scream as the laughter grew louder, threatening to consume you.

You woke with a jolt, head pounding. Your surroundings were unfamiliar at first. You saw a straw floor, and great wooden beams. It appeared that you were in a building meant for a giant, making you feel very small.

It wasn’t until you saw the huge honey bees and goats on the other side of the great room you were in that you realized where you were. You were in Beorn’s great hall. You had met him many times, and he was a good friend to your people.

You stood on wobbly feet and wondered to yourself how long you had been asleep. The events leading up to you passing out were a blur of swords and goblins. Your throat burned and it was tremendously hard to swallow; you knew you must have horrible bruising there. Raising your shirt, you saw that the wound in your abdomen had been cleaned and well-bandaged, though you noticed that it would need new wrappings soon. You quickly gave the rest of your body a once-over, noting the various scratches and bruises.

Suddenly, you heard laughter coming from the end of the hall, and your head shot up, remembering your dream. The dwarves were all sitting at a large table, talking boisterously amongst each other. When they noticed you slowly walking over, they all stopped speaking and looked at you. One of them, with two large twisting braids in his gray beard and holding an ear trumpet, rose and walked to you.

“Right, I’ll be needin’ to see to that then,” he said, gesturing to your soiled bandages.

You let him lead you to a bench next to their table. He introduced himself to you as ‘Òin’ and you gave him your name as well. You winced as you raised your shirt and he started to re-do your wound dressings, but you were grateful that he had a gentle hand. As he was working, the rest of the dwarves went around and gave you their names. You learned that the blond dwarf you had stolen the sword from was named Fìli. The last of them, and the leader if you had to guess, did not introduce himself. He instead walked to you and eyed you skeptically. You eyed him right back, holding your ground. When he spoke, he was stern.

“How did you come to be in the company of goblins?”

“I was traveling solo through the Misty Mountains when I was ambushed and taken. They kept me prisoner for three days.” Your voice came out as a rasp.

“Why did you help us?”

“Would you rather I hadn’t?” You asked with a wry smile. Some of the dwarves exchanged looks, but the leader simply narrowed his eyes.

You sighed. “It’s just what any decent person would do.”

The leader seemed unfazed, “What are you, some elf half-breed?”

You raised an eyebrow. “If you would use your eyes, master dwarf, you would see that I am no elf.”

“A witch, then?”

Òin had completed his work by this point, and you gently pushed his hands away and thanked him. All of them watched you with expectant looks, some curious and a bit wary. You had heard of the skepticism of Dwarves, and you knew that it most likely extended to the magical arts.

Throwing caution to the wind, you nodded. A few of them broke into whispers.

“I’m not going to try and curse any of you, if that’s what you’re so worried about,” you said quickly. They didn’t seem convinced, especially the leader.

“I would not expect any of you to understand, closed minded as all you lot are,” you said. You were getting annoyed at their prodding questions and the pain in your side was making you irritable.

They became quite offended at this.

“We saved you, did we not?” said the one who had introduced himself as Kìli.

You locked eyes with him. You saw an endearing kind of innocence that comes with youth in his eyes. A certain desperation to prove himself. The dwarf sitting beside him, Fìli, had to be his brother, not just because their names were so similar, but they had the same tilted mouth, the same mischievous glint in their eyes. Fìli was definitely older, more hardened and learned in the ways of the world, his beard longer and braided, unlike his younger brothers. With the slightest flush, you realized that this was the face you had reached for in your semi-conscious state before you had passed out. His face had been haloed with the rising light of the sun and he had looked almost angelic, like one of the Valar sent from Valinor itself to heal you.

“I do believe Gandalf is to thank for our saving,” piped up the halfling, Bilbo, breaking you from your thoughts. You had never met a hobbit before. He had a kind nature about him and you immediately liked him the best out of the bunch. It also helped that he seemed to think your criticism of the dwarves was quite amusing.

“Speaking of,” you said, standing from the bench. “Where is he?”

“The garden I believe,” said Bilbo.

You made your way over to the large oak front doors of Beorn’s hall, the dwarves watching you silently, their expressions poorly concealing their obvious mistrust.

Wrenching open the doors, you breathed in the fresh outside air and turned back around to face the dwarves, who were still watching you intently.

“Thank you,” you said to them, before turning and marching out to look for the wizard, not bothering to shut the doors behind you.

—

The warm summer sun had just set over the tops of the mountains, leaving the sky an inky blue color and making you shiver a bit in your spot on the ground, where you sat comfortably watching the dwarves dance and sing around the fire, in their usual merry mood. The hot mug of tea in your hands did much, however, to fend off the chill of the evening as it was three times the size of your head and gave off the same amount of warmth that a small campfire might.

It had been four days since your arrival at Beorn’s hall, and you were surprised at how much the dwarves had warmed up to you in so little time. Once they knew for sure that you were not going to put a spell on them or kill them in their sleep, they decided it was alright to look you in the eyes and once they learned that Gandalf had decided to more or less trust you, they became downright friendly and had all but welcomed you into their little troop. Even the leader, whose name you found out to be Thorin, had stopped glowering whenever you came near him.

A baby goat had made its way over to where you were sitting, looking up at you with big curious eyes, his ears covered in fuzz. You couldn’t help the smile that touched your lips. Reaching out your hand, you patted him gently between his eyes. Looking quite timid, he seemed to come to a decision about something, and then plopped down right next to you, laying his head on one of your legs that was stretched out on the straw-covered floor. Your smile grew as you looked down at him, this innocent little creature.

You heard a chuckle nearby and whipped your head around at the sound.

“Hello, there,” said Fìli, coming to sit with you, a large mug in his hand as well, but you knew that his was filled with something much stronger than tea.

You nodded at him politely. He shifted to sit with his legs crossed and one of his knees brushed your thigh, but he didn’t seem to notice. You both sat in silence, watching the other dwarves and listening to their drunken singing and shouting. Dwalin was sitting at the massive table in the middle of the hall, arm wrestling Glóin who had his face scrunched up in concentration. Thorin and Balin stood a little to the side of the group, laughing loudly at all the others as they danced around Bofur, who was currently very drunk and singing at the top of his lungs in what was probably meant to be the common tongue but sounded more like animated babbling.

You laughed heartily at the scene and turned to Fìli. “Are they always like this?”

“You’ve no idea,” he replied with a smile.

Ori had just pulled Nori to him and was attempting a two-man jig, which made you and Fíli laugh even harder.

Several minutes went by like that, with you and him laughing together at the ridiculous things the dwarves were currently doing. You found that you didn’t need to fill the space between you with pointless chatter, as he had an easy air about him and the small silences between your laughter were not awkward.

But it was then that you remembered something.

“I’m sorry for taking your sword,” you said, a bit of your composure lost. “I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“Hm? Oh, it’s alright,” he said. “Just don’t do it again.”

You turned your head to look at him, but he had a smirk on his face. Relieved, you smiled back.

He continued, “What did you do to it? Those words you were speaking?”

“It was just a spell,” you said, shaking your head a little. “For my aim to be true and for protection.”

He gave you a skeptical look and raised one thick eyebrow.

“Cynical, are you? I thought you were traveling with a wizard.”

“Yes, well . . . “ he trailed off.

“Well, what?”

He met your eyes reluctantly, looking you up and down in the process. “You just don’t really look the part, is all.”

You scoffed. “Just because I’m not old and wizened doesn’t mean I can’t possess magic.”

He nodded, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ as he turned back to watch the dwarves again, but you could tell he didn’t really believe you. You reached your hand out to him. He looked at it, confused for a moment, before you made a beckoning motion with your fingers. He still didn’t understand.

“Hand,” you said simply.

Reluctantly, he put his rough and calloused hand into yours. You took a moment to gently trace the lines in his palm with your fingertips, almost caressing his hand.

“You’re the eldest of two.”

“Anyone here could have told you that,” he said matter-of-factly.

You shot him a look and he shut his mouth with a smirk.

“You worry for your mother at home. You have since your father died. You also worry for your brother. He’s reckless and easily gets into trouble.”

You paused to look up at him, and this time, you had his full attention.

“You’re on a journey to a home that you have never seen before,” you said, tracing the line that wrapped around his thumb. “It looks like you’ve had quite the adventure already, more than you bargained for. And this one here-” your fingertips brushed his hand right below the base of his fingers. “-is called your heart line. See how yours is kind of coarse and splits there? That means you are passionate and very intuitive when it comes to those you love. You also always put others before yourself, but you suppress a lot of your true feelings, especially when it comes to romantic relationships.”

His face had flushed pink when you looked up at him again. You looked back down and continued.

“You have much anxiety; more than you let on. On the surface, you are very well put together, you were raised to be of course, but much like a river you are raging underneath it all. You put on a facade to appease everyone around you, but you are constantly sick with worry. You are always trying to prove yourself, most of all to your uncle, because one day, everything will fall upon your shoulders and no one can know that you are scared to death.”

You looked up at him. He was watching you with rapt attention, a look of complete shock on his face. You cleared your throat.

“Should I-”

He didn’t answer; it didn’t look like he could quite form words at the moment, but he shook his head. You nodded and dropped his hand.

“Sorry,” you said awkwardly, your hands fisted in your lap.

He seemed to have found his voice again. “No, no, it’s alright. Just a bit jarring, that’s all.”

“Well, at least now you know that I’m not a fraud,” you said with a smirk, attempting to put him at ease a bit. He smiled and nodded his head in agreement.

After several minutes of slightly uneasy silence, he spoke again.

“So, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, you know all my secrets now. Only fair if I know some of yours,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, but smiled at him as you said, “There’s not much to tell. My life is not half as interesting as yours. I grew up just south of here actually, in a village bordering the Anduin. Mother and father were merchants who traded frequently with the elves of Mirkwood.”

“How did you become a witch then? The elves?”

“I actually don’t know. Just woke up one day with everything in my head.”

He definitely did not believe this, but thankfully didn’t press the matter. Instead, he asked, “What’s your family like?”

“They’re wonderful. My younger sister and I used to beg our parents to let us go with them on their travels to the Woodland Realm. We were never allowed to, though, until we were older. I know that dwarves don’t really get on with the elves, but my people were quite close with them.”

You paused for a moment, and your voice became heavy with emotion, almost regretful, at your next words. “My family was everything to me.”

“Was?” asked Fìli.

“I left my village almost three years ago.”

Again, he didn’t press you for more answers, sensing that it was not something you were keen on talking about. Instead, he stretched his arms and sprawled out on the floor, leaning his weight on his elbows.

“You’re right,” he said playfully. “My life is much more interesting than yours.”

You laughed and smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

The baby goat, who had been snoozing on your leg all this time, woke up just then and gave you a contemptuous look, as if you had woken him up on purpose. He got up and sauntered off, probably to go and find his mother.

“So tell me about this adventure you’re on,” you said, turning to him again, yawning, and then cupping your chin in your hand.

Fìli laughed. “Ah, well, where do I start?”

He then launched into the tale of his and the dwarves’ journey, talking animatedly and sparing no details. You heard about their arrival in Bag End and the recruitment of their fourteenth member, Bilbo. He told you all about how they had been captured by trolls and would have been eaten if not for Bilbo’s quick thinking. Then they had found themselves in Rivendell at the behest of Gandalf and stayed there for two weeks. After their stay in Rivendell, they were traveling through the Misty Mountains when they had been captured by goblins, and you knew the rest. Towards the end of his story, you had grown very sleepy, and by the time he was finished, you had laid down and were half asleep, trying desperately to stay awake. When he had finished and noticed that you were falling asleep, he chuckled to himself. You heard him say ‘goodnight’ to you and you just barely felt a blanket being pulled over your body before you fell into a peaceful sleep.

#fili x reader #fili #fili and kili #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #archive of our own #lord of the rings x reader #witchcraft #ao3 writer #thorins company #bilbo baggins

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coldfanbou · 1 year

Text

Old Friends Come Back

So this is an epilogue piece for the University Secrets series. I was just having some fun with this piece. Uh, there's some cheating and a little rough sex involved. Please enjoy.

Length 2.5K

Umji X Mreader

Previous Part

It had been seven years since you had all graduated from the university. The group, for the most part, had gone its separate ways. Beyond your graduation, you and SinB had stuck together and gotten married. Yerin was always around, too, being your friend as well as an outlet for sexual frustration. You and SinB would often have her over for a threesome, though sometimes it would just be sessions between you and her. From what you had heard, the others had gotten married too, and it would be the first time you'd see them since graduation. You, SinB, and Yerin chatted as you prepared for the reunion. "Do you think we'll see the others? It's been so long, and I want to see them again."

"I'd really rather just stay in than go to this reunion."

"Don't be like that. Come on, SinB, tell him."

"It’s going to be fun; we'll get to see all our old classmates," SinB said as she attached her earrings. "Besides, Yerin's right. What if we do see the others?"

"SinB, it's not like we can exactly talk about what we did during our years there. They're married now, remember?"

"Spoilsport." Yerin retorted, sticking her tongue out at you.

"SinB, remind me to punish Yerin next time."

"I'll write it down. What punishment?"

"Bondage and the sex machine"

"Hey! No, I just stuck my tongue out at you."

"Let's vote on it then. All in favor?" You and SinB both raise your hands. "The Yeas have it."

"This is totally unfair! You always side with him, SinB."

"I do not; it's only when he wants to punish you."

"Fine, but can I at least choose the size of the dildo? The last one made my ass sore."

"SinB?"

"Denied; I get to choose."

"You heard the lady, Yerin." Yerin audibly groans and throws herself on your bed.

"Not fair at all."

"Is everyone ready?" The ladies give you a nod, and the three of you leave your home to drive to the campus. Bright lights adorn the entry bridge. The large concrete slab with the name of your university is lit up. As you drive in, SinB and Yerin point to all the things that have changed and the spots where they had strong memories. You follow the sign telling you where to park and eventually find a parking spot in the crowded lot. "Looks like a lot of people came."

"More of a chance that they came then!" Yerin shouted as she got out of the car and stretched.

"I still wouldn't be so sure."

"Honey, let her dream," SinB said as she smacked your shoulders.

"Yeah, let me dream! …wait a second." SinB starts running off, Yerin following right behind her. "You don't believe me either! Get back here, don't make me look like an idiot!" You chuckle to yourself, seeing how the two are so playful with one another. Starting a slow jog to keep up with them, you look at long halls. The old concrete arches are still the same as when you first met and fucked SinB. You say as much when you catch up to SinB and Yerin.

"Oh my god, who would've thought all this would've happened from me bumping into you," SinB said as she rolled her eyes.

"SinB, it was so much more than that. You were such a bad person back then."

"I was not!"

"Right, right, oh mighty queen bee SinB" You and Yerin feign bowing.

"Okay, maybe I was a little bit of a bad person." She said while pinching her finger and thumb together to insinuate she was just the tiniest bit of a bad person back then. "But, I think it all worked out in the end. I have you after all." SinB reached her hand out and held yours.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" Yerin cheered on.

"Yerin, be quiet." You kiss SinB on the cheek as she says that. She blushes afterward, not expecting you to go through with it.

"Come on; we're nearly at the library." You said as you led the way

"Speaking of the library, a weird place to hold a reunion, don't you think?" Yerin asked.

"Yeah, a little, but it makes sense when you have a first floor that's mostly open space."

"Yeah, I guess so. I would've liked it to be at a hotel, though."

"Yeah, that would've been nice," SinB said. Arriving at the library, you see the greeting committee taking names at the entrance. Once you're finally inside, you see nearly the entire class showed up. "Yerin, get us a table in the far right part; there aren't many people there."

"On it, you guys get me something to drink and make it strong!" Yerin yelled as she made her way across the library lobby. You and SinB head to the impromptu bar that the school had set up to get some drinks. You look around as your waiting, trying to spot anyone you recognize. When you fail to, you turn back to the bar and grab your drinks as they come.

"Do you see any of them, SinB?"

"Not one."

"Alright, let's head back to Yerin." Yerin waves you over from a distance as she spots you from afar.

"Did you see them?"

"Nope, not one."

"Hmmm, well, they'll be here eventually. I just know it." Yerin says with some confidence in her words. Much of the night is spent at the table chatting amongst each other, with the occasional break when another classmate would momentarily intrude.

"I'll go get us another drink." You tell the ladies as you walk off back to the bar. You spot a certain former student union member wearing a short gold dress. Umji is standing at the bar getting herself a drink when you come up behind her and pat her head. As she turns her head, her eyes go wide with shock.

"Mast-! I-I mean, it's you." Umji says as she catches herself nearly referring to you as master. The name she called you for your years together. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Getting a drink, Umji. How have you been? I hear you're married."

"T-that's right, I am. I've been doing well since graduation. I've ended up working in finance." As Umji continues to speak, you get a message from SinB.

"Is that Umji?" You send a quick yes as a reply. From a distance, you see Yerin and SinB running over.

"So, how have things gone for you?" Umji asked.

"They've gone pretty well, I'd say. Yerin and I are still friends, and I married SinB."

"You married SinB!?" She asks in complete shock.

"Yeah, why don't you ask her yourself?" You reply as you point behind her. As Umji turns around, she's met by two grinning faces; SinB and Yerin give her a big hug. They squeeze the smaller woman with all their might.

"Umji! It's been so long! How have you been?" Yerin asks in a near scream. As Umji gives the same response she gave you, Yerin asks a follow-up question. "Where's your husband?"

"Oh, he's at home; he didn't want to come. I'm a little sad, but what can you do?"

"That’s awful; he didn't want to come with you?"

"No, he's just sitting at home," Umji said as she looked to the floor, a solemn lol on her face.

"Join us, Umji; we'll make sure you have a great time tonight."

A gentle smile forms on Umji's face, and she agrees to join your table. As you all move back and ask each other for more details, the topic turns to graduation, with Umji saying, "Yeah, after graduation, it was a little tough being away from the master-" Umji pauses as she realizes what she said.

Yerin is the first to jump on this Freudian slip "Master? It looks like you're still a part of the group, aren't you?"

"No! I'm not; it's just that I'm so used to calling him that. I'm not part of the group anymore."

"Really? Don't you want to fuck him again? Don't you remember how good it felt to have his cock tear you apart? I know the feeling so well. We have sex so often. Don't you want to be a part of that?"

"Ignore her, Umji," you tell her. "She's already had quite a few drinks."

"It’s fine." She says quietly. SinB catches your gaze before motioning to look at your phone. There you see a message from SinB that says to fuck Umji. You just nod your head.

"Hey, Umji, I want to talk to you for a second. Let's go somewhere quieter."

"Yeah, sure." She says plainly. You take Umji up to the second floor, away from everyone else. At a secluded corner, Umji speaks up before you have the chance to. "I'm sorry for calling you master earlier; it's just a habit."

You push Umji against the wall and tower over her "Are you saying I'm not your master?" You tilt her head back with one arm while the other moves to her side. "I'm still your master, Umji." As you get closer to Umji, she squirms. It’s like she’s fighting with herself; there’s no doubt in your mind that Umji still remembers what it was like being fucked by you. With both hands on her hips, you get beside her ear and whisper, "Isn't that right, Umji? You won't say no to your master, right?"

As you pulled away from her, your hands leaving her body, she held them in place. "You're my master; I'm yours to use."

Moving your hands to her ass and squeezing it, you say, "That's a good cumdump." A soft whine escapes Umji as you remind her of her position.

"M-more, please, I want more."

"Oh? You want more?" You slip your hand under Umji's dress, rubbing her pussy through her panties. Umji's moans grow louder as she holds onto you for support. "I'll give you everything you want, Umji; just say the words. I want to hear you say those two words."

"Fuck me, please."

"Good girl," you whisper. "I'm going to need you to get me nice and wet, Umji." She kneels in front of you as you pull your cock out. Umji is mesmerized by it, staring at your cock for a moment before finally taking it in her hand. Umji's small soft hands start to stroke your cock as her mouth slowly opens. "Go ahead, Umji, taste it." Umji hesitantly licks the head of your cock. As more memories of her time as your cumdump come back to her, she starts to take more of your cock into her mouth. You compliment her on her skill "Fuck, Umji. You haven't forgotten how to suck my cock, but let's see if you can still handle it all." You place your hand on the back of Umji's head and force her forward; she gags initially but quickly becomes used to your cock as it hits the back of her throat. You moan Umji's name as you use her throat for pleasure. At the same time, Umji furiously fingered herself, her fingers becoming drenched as she shoved them deep into her pussy. Satisfied with Umji's performance, you slow down and eventually pull out of her completely. Umji grabs your cock as it leaves her mouth and gives it a sloppy kiss.

Through ragged pants, Umji mumbles, "I have to make sure your cock gets a goodbye kiss." You pull Umji onto her feet. Raising one of her legs onto your shoulder, you tease her pussy with your cock. The head rubs against her lips, leaving Umji a whimpering mess. "Don't tease me! Put it in!" At her behest, you slam your cock into Umji, forcing her tight pussy to take it all in. "Oh fuck! You're so big, master! Your cock is going to break me!"

"What would your husband think? Here you are getting fucked like the cumdump you are."

"I don’t care; he could never make me cum anyway. You ruined my body; your cock is the only one for me." Umji says before you start your thrusts. "Your cock is the best master, fuck me harder!" She yelled as you began to move.

You lift Umji's other leg onto your shoulder, carrying her now. You impale Umji on your cock with every thrust. "Why don't you leave him then? Come back to us."

"I…don't… know," Umji says in between long moans. You press Umji against the wall, allowing you to put more force into your thrusts.

"Let me give you a reason, Umji." You said as you began to pound her body relentlessly.

"Oh fuck! I'm cumming! I'm-" Umji holds onto you tightly as she cums. Her petite body shakes in your arms. Despite having just cum, you continue abusing her pussy. Umji's moans grow weaker as her voice grows tired.

"Don't you want this every day Umji? Don't you want to be able to cum again?"

"F…fuck me more, more."

"Of course, Umji. I'm not even close to done." You use Umji's weight to drive your cock deep into her pussy, hitting her womb each time. "Maybe I'll leave you with a little present, Umji. What would your husband think when you come home pregnant?"

Umji has little visible reaction. Simply muttering, "cum inside, make me yours again." Her words drive you to start thrusting faster.

"I'll give you just what you want, Umji." As your orgasm approaches, your cock begins to throb inside of Umji.

Knowing that you're cumming, Umji moans, "cum inside me, fill my pussy, master!" You drive your cock up to her womb and release your baby batter, flooding her with it. Umji's walls clench around your cock, trying to keep your cum inside. You let go of Umji's leg slowly, letting her down and pulling your cock out. As Umji falls to the floor, she reaches out for your cock. Her tongue lazily sticking out, she shoves your cock into her mouth. You moan her name as her tongue swirls around your cock. She pushes herself until she's pressed up against your pelvis; with her lips wrapped tightly around your cock she slowly pulls back, taking all of your cum and her nectar with her. Umji opens her mouth so you can see it full of cum before drinking it all. "Did I do a good job, master?"

"You did great, Umji. But what do you say? Will you join SinB and Yerin again?"

In a cum drunk voice, Umji mumbles, "Of course! I can't live without my master's cum." Umji rubs her face with your cock. "This cock is too good to leave again. I'm not going home."

A sinister smile forms on your face, "why don't we go tell SinB and Yerin the good news?" You help Umji up, and she leans on your arm as you make your way back, cum slowly dripping down her thigh. As you return, you get a message from SinB with a picture of a few familiar faces.

"Guess who we found."

#umji smut #viviz smut #gfriend smut #kpop smut #m reader #male reader

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bigtreefest · 1 month

Text

Chapter 4: Under Pressure

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: Bucky’s been weird since that night at the bar, but will a taste of danger at the farm bring him back to his senses?

Word count: 5,468

Content/warnings: Avoidance/masking of feelings, consumption and mention of alcohol, mutual pining, omg Cole is such a jerk, use of pet names, use of y/n, a little angst especially at the end, mentions of bullying, vulnerability

Author’s Note: I really enjoyed writing this chapter. There was a lot I wanted to include, and so much that made it in here that I hadn’t even intended originally. Happy reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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The rest of the weekend had been generally uneventful. You worked on the books and finances for the farm while Curtis did chores on Saturday and hung out with a book of your own on Sunday.

Bucky had become scarce. You had hardly seen him since Friday night besides mealtimes. Other than that, he was in his room, outside on the gravel talking to Steve over the phone, or shadowing Curtis to relearn how to do the tasks a sixth time.

You admired his work ethic and dedication to your agreement, but couldn’t help but feel that he was avoiding you. Was it something you said? Was he angry? To be honest, your memory seemed pretty clear. The last thing you remember was being grateful that he was there to help you get rid of Cole, and then waking up in bed to medicine and a glass of water on your nightstand. Not much could’ve happened in that small gap, right?

Wrong. Bucky had been consumed by the thought of you since that night. Every moment he went back to it, the nerves in his fingers burned all the way up to his shoulders with the thought of your touch. His gut felt tingly in a way he hadn’t experienced since he was a young boy daunted with the task of rising to power in his organization.

Was he nervous? No. Bucky Barnes doesn’t get nervous. He just gets pensive. When things seem like they’re getting out of his hands, he takes a step back to make a plan, then muscles his way through until he gets what he wants. He was used to using that same strategy to tamper down every emotion he felt except pride, and was well-practiced at that, so why did it all come crumbling from the simple act of you on his arm? Or was it the fact that he wished you taking his hat and putting it on your head could hold actual meaning? As soon as he identified his feelings, he called Steve.

“Whaddup, Buck? Not much has changed around here since last night, so I assume something has changed on your end?”

Bucky sighed. Why did he call in the first place? The last thing he wanted to do was acknowledge this… ~feeling~ by doing it the dignity of speaking it out loud. That made it real. “Um, no, not really. Just wanted to check in. I’ve got the day off.”

Steve paused on the other side of the line. “Okay….are you sure about that? Because you don’t seem very sure about that. Was everything okay at the bar? You didn’t get into a fight, did you?”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth turned up and he sighed in relief. “Oh, no, yeah, I’m sure. And I definitely did not get in a fight last night, some guy came up and was hitting on Y/N while I was out on the phone with you, so she wanted to head out right after.”

Bucky was satisfied with his well-formulated response until his best friend spoke up again. “Ah, so this is about your feelings for her, right? You were jealous?”

Bucky froze. “Pshhh….uh, no. Definitely not. She was very obviously not interested in him so we left.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Bucky could hear the deadpan in Steve’s voice. “I don’t care whether she was interested in him or not, I care about how her talking to some handsome stranger made you feel.”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. “Steven, I’m going to be honest with you and I do not want you to say a word of this to anyone, or else.”

Steve poorly hid a smile in his voice. “Okay, Bucket. Floor is yours.”

“First of all, he was not that handsome. Based off her reaction, he was probably a scumbag in a Carhartt jacket that has never seen a day of actual work, but that’s besides the point….Yes…. Seeing her talking to that guy, and talking to her about her ex made me feel…things, but that wasn’t all of it….” The next words came out as a mumble. “She put my hat on her head and her head on my shoulder when I drove her home….andiwisheditwasreal.”

Steve was full-blown laughing now, so much was going on in that statement. Since when did Bucky care about work clothes and people’s worthiness of them? At least he was being honest. “Sorry Buck, missed that last part. Care to repeat?”

“Oh you know exactly what I said.” He spat back.

“Okay, okay. So what are you gonna do about it then? You’ve still got three more weeks out there. From what I can see, you’ve got a few opti-“

“Nothing.” Bucky cut him off. “I’m going to do nothing. I can’t play into her charm anymore. I’m just going to stay away and put my head down and-“

“Bucky stop. Slow down.” Steve cut him off in return to stop the spiral. “Your solution to everything can’t be to ice it out until freezes and shatters. Let’s look at this for a second. You care for her, so why can’t you stay friends? You obviously get along well, and I’m not just saying this from a personal standpoint, I’m saying this from a business standpoint. She very evidently knows how to deal with people and looking at the books, her finances are exceptional considering it’s a relatively small farm operation.”

“Okay, first off, of course I can ice her out. I need to show who’s in charge and this has worked with other associates before. And second off, what are you seeing in her finances?” Bucky huffed.

“Buck, she could buy your house. Somehow she’s invested so well that she doesn’t need our business deal, but she took it anyway. Makes me wonder why. Someone doing something like that doesn’t deserve ice, maybe you should try a little sweetness. I mean, I know you think everyone’s a sucker for that tough exterior of yours.” Steve’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “But you know what they say: you catch more bees with honey…. However, that sting on your face shows you can catch a bee just by standing there, so I’m not sure how fair that analogy is.” Steve let out a hearty chuckle at his own joke as a scowl crawled onto Bucky’s face.

“Ha ha ha, very funny, but we’re doing this my way. I’ll figure it out. I just have to last three more weeks.”

Steve sighed and replied with evident disappointment and a hint of frustration in his voice. “Okay, whatever you say, you’re the boss. I’ll call you later with a new update, Bucket.”

Bucky rolled his eyes in response. “Ugh, why do I still tell you everything when you use it against me like this?”

“That’s platonic love, my friend. Someone’s gotta hold you accountable and know you won’t punch them in the face for it.” And with that, Steve hung up and left Bucky looking up at the clear, blue sky.

Although Steve’s words and accusations stuck in his head, Bucky decided he wanted to muscle through this deal on his own. All he really needed to do was stay away from you and put in the work, and that would make it easier, right? He would simply do what he came here to do, nothing more, nothing less. If only Bucky could hear Steve’s grumble “why does he even tell me about this stuff if he won’t even take my advice?” that was said after every phone call.

You woke up to the first rooster crow on Monday morning. By the time you had gotten dressed and walked down the creaky stairs, you saw your breakfast plate made and sitting on the counter and a mug of coffee that had already cooled down to a more than drinkable temperature.

You peeked in the dishwasher to see a set of dishes had already been placed in there. Bucky must’ve already eaten and gone out for the day. He probably wanted to get a jump start on his work. At least he knew what he was doing.

The real reason he was up and going already that you hadn’t known? He couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned all night thinking about what Steve had said and honestly, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. Couldn’t bring himself to mess up more in your presence and be saved and comforted by your seemingly bottomless grace. The solution was to do the work in pensive silence, as far from you as possible, so he could mess up and fix it on his own without the thought of your kind, yet penetrating, gaze. He was getting too close for comfort. The only solution was to pull away.

This continued for the next three days. Wake up before you. Make breakfast. Get a jump start on chores. Mess up on chores (as you secretly watched from the tractor, or the hay loft). Fix the mistakes. Carry on with his head down. Come home. Make dinner. Trap himself in his room. Go to bed. Start again.

Some notable moments that you’d caught unbeknownst to him: Bucky’s galoshes getting stuck in the mud of the pig pen, followed by him having to step out of the still-stuck boots, continue to walk to pour the feed in the trough while losing both socks as well, then returning to dig out the boots. At least half a dozen goat head-butts while trying to grab the babies to take them to the separate feeding area. The mommas were not happy with Bucky’s insistence on taking their kids, and they showed him by knocking him repeatedly into the white-painted fences. Bucky responded with an oof and him rubbing the affected area, returning a glower to the seemingly now unbothered mothers. Bucky losing sheep, but not knowing how to command your dog to corral them, thus having to run and herd them himself, surprisingly more efficiently each time it happened, you might add.

You were proud of Bucky for his work ethic. If he had put half this effort into his business dealings, you could see how he rose to the top so quickly. He wasn’t the only one who did research on whom they were dealing with.

He was stubborn and wanted things right, but didn’t let a lack of perfection stop him from completing the tasks. However, at some point, it looked like he was beating himself up. Like he was self-punishing for something you couldn’t quite identify, so you called Curtis to help at the farm so you could figure it out. Come Thursday afternoon, you handed off your chores to him and went back to the house early in hopes of catching Bucky. You were half way through dinner when the front door opened, the mud-covered mob boss in well-fitting farm clothes crossing the threshold.

You looked him up and down, doing your best to hold in a laugh at the disheveled appearance. “Well howdy. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you. Figured you’ve been working so hard, it’s my turn to help you out some.”

Bucky was taken aback by seeing you in the kitchen, not only had he purposely been avoiding you and planned to get in the house before you even considered dinner, but you just looked so relaxed. Something about that stoked an ember in him he’d tried hard to snuff out. You were wearing a t-shirt and your hair was pulled up off your shoulders, almost like any other day, but your features didn’t have their usual determined focus. They were at ease, which was in total juxtaposition with Bucky’s swirl of anxiousness rising in his gut.

Bucky looked at you with wide eyes and pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. “Um, I thought you were still out in the field. Saw the tractor turning the hay over.” He swallowed thickly.

You leaned to peek around him. “Ah, yes. That’s Curtis. Called him in today to help me finish up so you and I could talk about a few things. Go ahead and wash up. By the time you’re done, this should all be ready.”

All he could do was nod in response as he slowly made his way up the steps, mind racing with everything you could possibly say. Did you know how he felt? Did he do something wrong? Were you going to cut the deal? He could only hope the warm water would wash his worries away, along with the mud.

Bucky came back down to a homey aroma that wrapped him in comfort. That much was consistent every time he saw you. Your existence provided him a blanket of relief, despite the way he knew he should still be holding onto anticipation for what you might say. You were sitting at the head of the table flanked by Curtis, the both of you reading though some papers.

“Hey, Bucket, just in time.” Curtis greeted him, as Bucky took the seat across from him at the table, flanking your other side. You all started to dig into the food as you set the papers down on the table for Bucky to read them. It was a headline that read: TURNing the Tables: The Road to an Empire.

“What is this?” He looked up from his plate and directly into your eyes for the first time in days.

“Well, we haven’t gotten to talk about this yet, but remember that guy who we ran away from at the bar? This is him.” Bucky’s eyebrows pinched together, he knew the look of disdain on your face made sense, but still felt like he was missing something.

Curtis cleared his throat after taking a sip of tea and spoke up. “Forgot you didn’t grow up with us. Allow me to explain.” He looked to your eyes and you nodded in approval of his continuance. “In school, I was a few years older than Y/N here. Back then, there were a bunch of farmers around town, each with their own little niche, and a lotta nice farm kids who were in our classes. Except Cole. He grew up a little awkward kid, but once he hit puberty, he became the cockiest thing in town. Didn’t even care to know those other kids anymore, just bullied them. It didn’t help that it was around the same time his parents started buying out all the other small farms here, turning their small dairy operation into a much larger-scale distributor. Little too big for their britches, if you ask me.” Curtis mumbled that last part as he rolled his eyes and shoveled another fork full of food into his mouth.

Bucky nodded in acknowledgement, but still harbored some confusion in how this all tied together. “So why was it crazy to run into him at the bar if he’s from around here? And what’s the deal with him making you so uncomfortable. Like, I get it, he’s a prick, but you were running out of there. You hardly budged for me, so there’s no way he can be that intimidating to you.”

Curtis’s eyes narrowed slightly and his brows furrowed at that statement, but he let it go for now. He swallowed down another bite of food and looked at you again. Your mouth was slightly agape, debating the best way to move forward. “I didn’t look like this in high school, or throughout any schooling for that matter, so he didn’t recognize me when we ran into each other at the bar. Frankly, I hardly recognized him. And come to think of it, he didn’t even ask my name Friday night, so that goes to show what a trash bag he really is. But this is a good thing, because I think we’d be in a way bigger mess if he did remember me. It’s a long story, and I think we’ll have to go back even farther.” You took a sip of your water before setting down your silverware and leaning forward on your elbows on the table.

“Like Curtis said, Cole didn’t get along with anyone, especially Jake. In school he’d constantly push him around, so Curtis would come to his defense, even though I probably could’ve taken Cole myself.” You let out a small airy chuckle and Curtis smiled back at you, shaking his head. “But anyway, after every time Cole started a fight and Curtis finished it, he’d look at me with this big, almost mischievous grin. So honestly, I’m glad I didn’t play into getting close to him by personally defending Jake.”

Bucky continued nodding along. You seemed so unproblematic. Why were you in the middle of this? “So he didn’t recognize you at the bar, and again, he’s from around here. What’s the big deal?”

You sighed, having to explain more small-town politics to Bucky, who very evidently didn’t understand the delicate nature of places outside the city. “He’s not really from around here anymore. His farm still is, but it’s one of many now. After school, he went to get some fancy business degree from who knows where. What I’m truly concerned about is what he said to me at the bar. He’s here to squash the one thing Curtis and I, and frankly this town, have left.” Curtis rubbed your shoulder reassuringly and you rubbed your eyes in frustration. Bucky felt that same pang in his lower stomach again, seeing how close you and Curtis were and how that dumb little milk man had you this upset. You looked at Curtis gratefully and continued.

“My mom’s brother and Curtis’s dad’s sister used to run this farm back when Cole still lived here. When they passed, they left it to us, but Curtis’s dad also left the shop, which is why I mostly run things around here. But the thing is, anyone who hasn’t been to town since back then, doesn’t know that. The last name tied to this farm doesn’t apply to either of us.” Oh, so you and Curtis were second cousins? Explains a lot. Bucky hated himself that all he could think was ‘one more man who’s close to you he can check off as not being a threat.’ He really needed to get himself in check. Once he pushed those thoughts back down is when everything finally clicked.

Cole was back in town. He had a history with you. He’s got a bad track record in general. He said he wanted to squash competition. You were that competition. He didn’t know you were that competition. You had no idea where to go from here.

Before Bucky could open his mouth for his next round of clarification questions, there was a knock on the door. The three of you were so enthralled in conversation that no one heard the wheels crunching through the gravel in the driveway. You exchanged glances with the men on either side of you. A random visitor out here wasn’t too out of the ordinary, considering how much the community depended on you, but the conversation topic had you on edge. It was for good reason, because as you opened the door, leaving the screen in place, you were met with a face that had started to haunt your dreams these past few days: Cole.

He was wearing that sickening smile again, looking down at you. “Hiya, Peach. It’s been a minute.” You crossed your arms and looked at the man standing on your porch, a plastic smile glued to your face.

Bucky and Curtis shuffled behind you. Curtis shoved the papers and articles at Bucky to take somewhere else so Cole wouldn’t see them, while he made his way to your shoulder, his large stature holding every intention to intimidate Cole.

“Ah yes, your guard dog Curtis, great to see ya, buddy.” Curtis gave a death glare of acknowledgement, stance unyielding.

“Sorry I didn’t recognize you at the bar, you’ve all changed so much, including your pal, Jakey. He’s the one who so kindly told me my family missed this farm while we were on the rise. As soon as mom and pop gave me the reins, I knew I had to stop over, didn’t realize you were the one running things now.” You did your best to keep your face level.

“So what can I help you with, Cole? Are you lost? Need directions on a map? I’m a whiz at that. Happy to print one out for you.”

If it was even possible, his troubling smirk became wider. “Aren’t you going to invite me in? I’d love to talk business. Maybe over dinner? Smells delicious.”

You scrunched your nose, keeping the fake smile on your face. “Unfortunately, it’s all gone. Maybe next time. How about you and me mosey over to the office. It’s been too long. I’ve got some mints in there. Maybe those can tide you over.”

“Too long, indeed.” He ignored the rest of your statement, but Bucky didn’t. He’d never heard you say something that rude before. Someone like Cole might have been none the wiser, but those were loaded words that he knew you said with intention. How could he blame you, though. The man in the fake work clothes had invited himself in unannounced. Not even Bucky did that to you. The same couldn’t be said for his actions with other associates, but one thing he knew was that you were deserving of all the respect in the world. Respect Cole was not giving you. Cole nodded to the two men and followed you down the hall, not bothering to take off his shoes and add them to the files of boots by the door. Another mark in Bucky’s mind. You closed the door you’d held open behind him after giving a wide-eyed look to your two confidants whose eyes followed the whole thing.

Bucky scrambled to clean up the dinner plates and pack away the leftovers. It was smart of you to not offer Cole anything. He didn’t need any reason to stick around longer than you wanted him to. Bucky knew a thing or two about business dealings with enemies, and he was usually much cooler than this, but the fact he could tell you were freaking out, freaked him out.

He still hadn’t dealt with his emotions for you, and your earnestness not even half an hour ago had made it worse. So he did what he always does when he’s not sure and needs a wall to talk at: he called Steve.

Steve picked up in a surprisingly good mood. “Hey Buck, what can I do ya for.”

“I need to you gather everything you can on Cole Turner.” He frantically spat out. Steve grew serious to mirror his best friend’s tone. “And…” Bucky lowered his phone for a second and looked at Curtis. “What’s Jake’s last name.”

Curtis looked at him skeptically. “Jenson. Jacob Jensen.” Bucky nodded his head in thanks and lifted the phone back up to his ear.

“Did you get that?…Yeah, put our best guys on it. Ok, call me later tonight when you know. Doesn’t matter the time. Bye.”

Bucky lowered the phone and looked at Curtis who had just finished wiping down the counters. Curtis had his arms crossed and was leaned up against the kitchen island, opposite Bucky. “So you wanna tell me who exactly you are? Why you’ve got people who you can seemingly throw commands at for immediate attention? And why you care so much about this little farm that you’re only working at for a month?”

Bucky sighed and put his hands on the counter, pushing his body away from it, hinged at the hips, and hanging his head in between his arms. He stood up and quickly looked at Curtis straight in the eyes. “I think you know. I think you know the answers to all those questions, but I think you should also know, I care enough to be on your side.”

Curtis leaned in towards Bucky, his frame shadowing the mob boss’s in the evening light. For the first time in awhile, Bucky was intimidated. He knew how much Curtis cared for you, and he knew how hard he’d be pummeled if he messed up, whether Bucky used his combat training or not. He mustered up as much confidence as he could to rebuild his demeanor to face your Cousin. “You know I care, and I think all that matters is that I’m using my resources to make sure your cousin’s farm is okay and stays in her hands. You know I’m here to do business, but this is bigger than me and I see that now. I’m someone with power, and not unearned power like that prick in the other room. So I’m someone who uses that power in your best interest. That’s all you need to know right now.”

Curtis nodded in acceptance of Bucky’s answer. He could respect that logic, and the way Bucky held his cards close to his chest, because at the end of the day, at the core of Bucky’s motivations was your well-being. No matter how much he thought he could put a veil over it, Curtis saw through.

“Well, Bucky, I won’t doubt you then, but you better hold true and honest, for your own sake and for hers. And I hope to hear more of your other ‘business ventures’ later down the road, but for now, I think our girl needs us.” Bucky nodded along in agreement.

“I don’t think there’s much else I can do right now while I wait for that intel to get back. You got anything?”

Curtis grinned and gave a small shrug. “I can think of one thing. Go up in that top cabinet above the fridge. We’ve got a bottle of the good stuff. She’s gonna need it once we can get the slime ball to slide outta here.”

Bucky’s shoulder’s bounced with a small laugh as he pulled down the bottle. “Let’s get cracking then.”

It was another half hour before Cole emerged from your office and looked cockily at the two men chatting in your kitchen. You followed closely behind, doing your best to subtly corral him out of the house.

“I hope you’ll consider my offer. Actually, I know you will. Over dinner next time.” He smirked back at you over his shoulder. You escorted him out the door as politely as you could, draining your last bit of energy. You closed and locked the front door, which rarely was so, and peeked through the window until he was gone.

You turned around to look at the two of them as your shoulders slumped. You dragged your feet over to the island where Curtis and Bucky were leaning leisurely, grateful Curtis knew exactly what you needed as he slid the filled shot glass toward you.

You grabbed it and threw it back, slamming it back down on the butcher block counter top as Curtis moved to refill it. “How many do I have to catch up on?”

“Only two.” Curtis replied as he slid the shot glass back over to you again.

“Let’s make it three.” You choked out after you attempted to swallow down the burn of the second shot.

“Bucket, can you please make us some water bottles? I’ve gotta get out of this house. We’re going for a walk.”

“Yeah, okay, Honey. Only on the condition that you put my boots on me for the walk. My hammies are sore from being your little chore boy.” He replied as he reached into the cabinet to grab the bottles.

He smiled to himself when he heard your giggle. He’d normally never complain that openly and ridiculously, but you gave him the reaction he was hoping for. Anything to make sure the life wasn’t totally sucked out of you by Cole.

“Your negotiations are no good here. You put your own boots on and take your own boots off unless you’re married. My house, my rules. But tell ya what, I’ll let you have another shot of this small-batch bourbon with me and Curty boi. That’s more than payment enough.” You winked at him as he handed you the water bottle. The three of you taking the last shot and heading out the door, making your way towards the back of the property.

It was an easy walk through level fields, just long. The three of you fell into easy conversation about anything other than Cole, insisting you’d debrief them tomorrow, so the conversation mainly consisted of teasing Curtis about the new girl and her truck he had to fix last week. The comfortable silences otherwise were filled with the sound of the crickets chirping. You found comfort in the caress of the warm, humid breeze that blew through as you walked towards the hills where the old mines of the property resided.

Once you reached the entrance, you turned around and faced the two large men. “Buck, you’ve been working really hard this week, so I think it’s time I showed you what you’re working toward. Figured it would be a nice change of pace for us to take a look at this tunnel tonight, and we can start scheduling some time in for us to fix up the scaffolding and supports.”

Bucky nodded, looking at you with a grin on his face while Curtis clicked on his flashlight. “I’m honestly curious to see what’s going on in there. I don’t think we’ve ventured in since we were teenagers.” His voice echoed through the mouth of the mine.

You led the way, turning on your own flashlight, scanning the dirt walls and old, wooden supports. “Yeah, it’s been awhile, but I think you could work with this, right, Bucket? This tunnel specifically doesn’t have an outlet like the connecting network in some of the others, so it would be mostly storage. You could probably send some underlings out here to help you out.”

You both laughed as Bucky walked closer to the wall, examining one of the support beams. “Yeah, I mean, I own a construction company, so that shouldn’t be a worry at all.”

That caught Curtis’s attention as he stopped to give a side glance toward Bucky. You continued on ahead unfazed as Bucky kicked the wooden beam in front of him to test its integrity. It crumbled slightly at the toe of his boot. Underwhelmed with the scale of the break, the two men made a move to step forward when they heard a rumbling, followed by the beam Bucky had kicked crashing down in front of them. Pebbles shifted and fell out of the ceiling, followed by larger rocks and before they could blink, the tunnel buckled creating a wall of sand and stone between you and them.

All Bucky could hear was your muffled scream on the other end. I’m okay, just get me out of here. He was going into panic mode, but a plan still was racing though his brain as he made every attempt to mash it together into something coherent. Through the ringing in his ears he heard Curtis yell. “We have to call the police, the fire department, someone to get her out of there. She might not be injured now, but I can’t say the same if there’s a secondary collapse. We need to do something. Now.”

Bucky grabbed him by his collar. “No. No police. It’ll ruin everything.”

Curtis put his hands up in surrender. “Okay then, what do you suppose we do, big guy?”

Bucky paced back and forth, biting his thumbnail with worry. “Gimme a second. I’m figuring it out.” He stopped in his tracks. “Who all knows about the mines?”

“What? What does that ha-“

Bucky cut Curtis off. “Who. All. Knows?”

Curtis shook his head and shrugged. “I-I don’t know, not many people. Me and her, her college roommate, and Jake. That’s it, I think.”

Bucky rapidly reached into the pocket of his jeans and handed Curtis a card from his wallet. “This is my associate Sam. You’re going to call him and tell him those names. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Curtis immediately pulled out his phone, trusting the judgement of his new friend. Bucky did the same, calling Steve. It was time to send backup to the farm. He could have his men out here tonight, and your friends by at least the morning, sending his private jet to retrieve them.

He needed you out of that tunnel like he needed to breathe, mostly because if he didn’t get you out of there within a day, you wouldn’t be able to.

Next >

Bonus A/N: so much going on!! What will happen next? Who was the girl whose truck Curtis had to fix??

Thank you so much for reading!! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are soooo appreciated. Lmk if you’d like to be added to any of my tag lists. Love you!

Series taglist:

@scuzmunkie

@openup-yourmind

@vicmc624

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stcverogers · 2 years

Text

TOP GUN FIC RECS 1!

top gun fics that i’ve been reading and obsessing with over recently

this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.

F: fluff A: angst S: smut

𖥻 - series /multi part

masterlist

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

F + A: webb of unfortunate events by @ohtobeleah the last thing you expected was your father to be back in your life again

A: honest by @vcrooster no matter how much you love rooster, you and him were never meant to be

F + A: days like this by @mads-weasley rooster has a no good, terrible, day and all he wants is your comfort

F + A: show me all the scars you hide by @bradshawsbaby you love bradley even more for his scars

F + A: you don’t get to taste the honey without the sting of the bee by @notroosterbradshaw rooster never gets jealous. you on the otherhand...

F + A: rooster's girl by @wannabeschyulersister nobody messes with rooster's girl

F: sleep clothes by @fandomlit rooster short circuits after seeing you in your sleep clothes

F: pouting by @belowtheharddeck you spend the evening catching up with the naval aviators, leaving bradley kiss-less and pouty

A: you said you’d grow old with me by @blue-aconite you and rooster never got your fairy tale ending

F + A: stop by @lcahwriter even during your intimate moments, you still can't shake the thought of rooster dying from your mind

F: just like dad by @ilyasorokinn jamie wants to be just like her dad

F + A: "whiskey sour? classy." by @undiscovered-horizon another naval aviator disrespects you and rooster can't let that happen

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

F + A: the princess and the hangman by @simpforrooster being an admiral's daughter, hangman likes to get on your nerves

F + A: don't go breaking my heart by @callsignmercy jake did the one thing he promised he wouldn't

F + A: strawberries by @siempre-bucky the one time jake writes to you

F: the joker by @gogobootz1 when you accidentally order too many peaches, penny (and jake) come to your rescue

F + A: our little secret by @sebastianstangirl01 nobody would've thought that bob floyd's sweet baby sister would be dating hangman

F: imagine being hangman's girl, knocking the sense into him at the bar and rooster never lets him live it down by @theclassiccherry

F: jake worries about his sick wife by @zablife

F: careful hands, precious cargo by @winchesterandpie despite you being in a mood, jake is still the most understanding boyfriend

F + A: you left me no choice but to stay here forever (right where you left me) by @sunderlust you've spent half your life fully and utterly in love with jake seresin.

F: tomorrow never comes by @purplevortexx you will always be there for jake

F + A: the green eyed monster by @hangmans-girl when jake doesn't understand boundaries, you show him just what you mean

F: baby, you down? by @softspiderling 𖥻 bradley finally meets the man you had been gushing like a school girl over

F + A: hello, goodbye by @imjess-themess jake visits home after a while and learns that you have far from moved on from him

ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD

F: wizard! by @absoluteabbott baby bob wants to be just like his father, a wizard.

F: one night by @ereardon hangman keeps flirting with you but you only have eyes on a certain wso

F: not a secret anymore by @hlstead coyote hangman gets nosy and snoops around bob's phone, only to find out his big secret

F + A: when you come back by @writingdumpster you make bob promise to come back so he can tell you how much he loves you

F: no regrets by @edensbuttercups bob brings you back home safely after a drunken night and you wake up the next day with no regrets

F: bookstore lover by @samwlscns bob now knows where to go if he's ever in the need of book related opinions

JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO

F: somewhere only we know by @bestedoesmeow javy comforts you after you've been feeling stressed

F: coyote as a dad headcanons by @jungle-angel

F: you and coyote meet again after some time by @rhettabbotts

F: close by @buckyr00s javy gets admitted to the hospital and you visit him

F: for better days by @coyotesamachado coyote gets into a bird strike and you're beyond terrified

F: you're coyote's secret girlfriend by @belowtheharddeck

S: chew on my heart by @bradleyfuckingbradshaw coyote gets scared shitless when you get into a training accident

RON 'SLIDER' KERNER

F: beach days by @emmajane244 chipper flirts with you, unaware you are slider's wife

F: imagine slider confessing before leaving for top gun by @spinningwebsandtales slider's about to leave for top gun and all he wants to do is spend his last day with just you

TOM 'ICEMAN' KAZANSKY

F: ice ice baby by @redmenacehorned being ice's secret girlfriend, slider assumes the pretty girl by the bar is single and free game

F + A: finally by @topgun-imagines after months of trying, you and ice are finally having a baby

F + A: head in the clouds by @callsign-dragonbaron while visiting maverick and goose at top gun, the one man you loved with all your heart finds his way back into your life

LEONARD 'WOLFMAN' WOLFE

F: how wolfman proposes to you by @jungle-angel

BEAU 'CYCLONE' SIMPSON

S: under the desk by @topguncortez you visit cyclone during his lunch break and find yourself hidden under his desk

S: cyclone by @labyrinth-runner you are cyclone's much needed release

F + A: admirals' daughters by @krmy2386 you overhear what you boyfriend has to say about admirals' daughters

S: nice 'n easy by @wildbornsiren cyclone relieves you after a hard day

S: one night stand in fightertown by @zablife you meet the admiral at a bar one night, leaving with him for the best time you've ever had

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goldenseresinretriever · 4 months

Text

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 8

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw, blindsided by a team he trusted like family has been traded to the San Diego Dogfighters. Across the country from the place he calls home, Bradley feels lost and betrayed. Not to mention the familiar faces and ghosts from his past that he now has to face every day at work. Bradley’s caught between wanting to show his former team the mistake they made in double-crossing him and wondering if it’s time to hang up his skates after one final season. You’re living your dream as the PR representative for the Dogfighters. When Coach Maverick made a bid to bring his godson to the team, you hadn’t batted an eye. Bradley was a good teammate, and a good player. Unfortunately, the Bradley that shows up in San Diego is nothing like your research suggested. He’s moody, irritable, aggressive, and angry, throwing a wrench in all your careful planning. What’s caused such a drastic change in him? And can you figure out how to help him before he makes a mistake you can’t fix?

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, smut, dead parents, mentions of major character death, sports violence, mentions of physical violence, angst, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N: This is high-key my favorite chapter so far, lost happening, she’s a long one

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You wake to the sound of the guys collecting their things as they prepare to get off the place. You blink a few times, confused as to why there’s soft fabric against your cheek and you nuzzle the surface, trying to go back to sleep as Bradley’s voice in your ear pulls you out of your drowsy state.

“Time to get up, Honey.” You whine in protest and bury your face in the soft fabric and that’s when the familiar scent fills your nose and you remember what you’ve been sleeping on. You sit up immediately, cheeks heating as you see Bradley’s face, his lips turn into a soft smirk that’s part endearment and part teasing.

“Sorry,” you murmur and he shakes his head, dismissing your apology.

“It was an invitation.” He reminds you and then you realize your arm is linked in is his like you’d been cuddling it in your sleep and you’re embarrassed all over again. You try to slip it out but Bradley tightens his grip on it. “That one wasn’t an invitation, but not an unwelcome intrusion.” Your whole face feels warm. He finally releases your arm and you pull it back, trying to ignore how much you miss the warmth of Bradley’s body. You stand, stretch and a glint of light catches your eye and you follow the shine to a mortifying discovery. Your drool, glistening on Bradley’s sleeve. You yelp in embarrassment, instantly digging in your purse for tissues and grabbing Bradley’s sleeve to wipe your spit off the fabric. He watches you with an amused twinkle in his eye when you finally look up and meet his eyes. You desperately want to slap that cheeky smirk off his face. Instead, you stand up and start collecting your belongings.

Once again, Bradley refuses to let you carry your garment bag, not relinquishing it until you’re entering your shared hotel room. Sure, you’d shared a room with a guy before. Hell, you’d lived with Mickey for a year or two, but Mickey was like family. Bradley? Bradley is anything but. You cautiously enter the main space, letting out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding at the sight of two queen beds. Sleeping on Bradley’s shoulder on the plane is one thing, but sharing a bed with him is something else entirely. You’re not quite ready to cross that line yet.

You watch Bradley hang your garment bag in the closet as you set your purse and laptop bag down on the bed closest to the door. You perch on the edge as you take your laptop and clipboards out to check your schedule for the rest of the day. The boys have to head to the Avalanche’s arena for practice soon, and you’ll be tagging along to meet up with their PR rep to familiarize yourself with the interview schedule for tomorrow night. You haven’t even taken the time to temporarily slip off your heels and you’re already in full work mode. Bradley emerges from the bathroom and leans against the wall of the hallway. You feel his eyes on you as you scribble away, making note of important locations and timings on your clipboard so you don’t have to bring your laptop to the rink. He doesn’t feel the need to comment so you remain in comfortable silence until both your phones chime with a fifteen-minute warning before the bus leaves.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom where you take a moment to pull your hair up into your signature ponytail. Examining your reflection in the mirror has you remembering that Cyclone once again called you by your mom’s name and you feel the itch to pull all your hair out. You’ve spent so long running from her memory and yet you always find yourself back at square one every time you stare too long in the mirror. There’s a knock at the bathroom door and you don’t respond, still locked in an intense staring contest with your reflection. You hear the knob turn and Bradley enters, your eyes flick to his in the mirror and a question lingers in their depth.

“Does it get easier?” Your voice is a whisper, like a breath that’s just managed to escape your lips. Something unreadable swirls in his eyes and his fingers twitch absently at his side and you feel the urge to lace them with yours. He hesitates for a moment before he nods.

“Eventually, yeah. At some point you’ll have lived longer without her than you did with her and then… then it feels… not easier but it doesn’t hurt as much.” You nod back, trying to wrap your mind around it.

“Do you miss them?” You know it has to be harder for him, he’s lost both his parents. You could call your dad right now if you just decided to pick up the phone.

“I never knew my dad. Well, I guess I did, but I don’t remember him at all. But my mom? I miss her every day.” He takes a deep breath and you reach your hand back, your fingers barely brushing his. “I used to wish I could forget her because I thought it would hurt less but now I know better. Trying to keep her alive isn’t delusion, it’s devotion. It’s not a crime to love the people we can’t hold anymore, it’s a blessing. There’s not a lot of feelings that can transcend death like that.” You take a sharp breath at the word as it passes through his lips. You almost envy the easy way he says it like it doesn’t hurt him anymore. His fingers brush back against yours and curl around yours. His thumb brushes across the back of your hand in soft, repetitive strokes and you squeeze his palm like it’s a lifeline. If you’re hurting him, he doesn’t let on, just continuing to hold you like an anchor as your heart is buffeted along on stormy seas.

You stay that way, watching each other through the mirror until a firm knock on your door makes you jump. Rather than dropping Bradley’s hand, however, you pull it closer, startled by the knocking that serves as a last call for the bus. “We should go.” You sound out of breath and Bradley nods, but neither of you makes a move to let go. He squeezes your hand firmly before letting go to grab his gear and you’re breathing heavily as you do your best to dismiss the heat in your cheeks.

***

You’re exhausted. You’ve spent the whole day coordinating with Colorado’s PR to make the preparations for tomorrow’s match and all you want to do is get back to the hotel and go to bed. You trudge out to the bus where the guys seem to be in better spirits. You overhear them making plans to hit the town tonight and it only makes you more tired. You’re climbing onto the bus when your heel catches in the ridges in the step and you feel you lose your balance and you’re too tired to stop your fall, resolved to your fate in face planting when a firm grip on your waist catches you, hoisting you back to your feet.

“You okay, Honey?” Bradley’s gruff voice tickles your ears and you fight the urge to melt back against his solid chest that you can feel behind you.

“Just peachy,” you mutter as you find your footing and kick your heels off. You’re exhausted and couldn't care less what people think right now. You bend down to scoop them up but freeze as your butt brushes against Bradley’s crotch. Your cheeks heat instantly as you stumble forward at the same time that Bradley stumbles back as if the contact had burned you both. You decide against an apology and simply scoop up your shoes and all but sprint onto the bus. You collapse into an empty seat, but your relief is temporary as Bradley sits down next to you. “I… I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.” You blubber and Bradley just reaches up to guide your head against his shoulder like he did this morning.

“Rest, Honey.” The command is simple but effective because you’re pretty sure you fall asleep before the bus even leaves the parking lot.

***

When you wake up, you’re horizontal. You blink the sleep from your eyes in confusion and your eyes adjust to the lack of light in the room. You’re still in your dress but you’re no longer on the bus. You run a hand across the bedspread absently as you focus on the twinkle of city lights outside the window. They cast the room in a dim light along with the lamp in the corner. It had been early evening when you’d left the stadium, the sky just beginning to pinken but now it's pitch black. The clock on the bedside table tells you that you’ve been asleep for around two hours. Your eyes fall on the lamp by the window that’s illuminating the chair where Bradley’s sitting, reading a book. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, sitting up and stretching and he looks up. You think you imagine the way his eyes roam your body as you arch it, banishing the sleep from your limbs.

“Sleep well?” You nod as you continue to stretch out your limbs. You’re dying to change into your pajamas and few yourself of the stiff material of your dress.

“How’d I get up here anyway?” You ask as you pad over to the window and take in the view of the city.

“I moved you with my mind.” You turn to look at him surprised to see a bemused smirk on his lips.

“Very funny. You didn’t have to carry me, you know.” He simply shrugs in response.

“You were clearly tired and you didn’t seem like you were waking up anytime soon.” You nod quietly, hoping that the dimness of the room hides the heat climbing your cheeks.

He stands, stretching in a mirror of what you’d just been doing and you let your eyes wander as his muscles ripple under the simple black t-shirt that he’s wearing. “Shall we head out?” He asks simply and you can’t help the way your stomach drops in disappointment.

“Out…?” You ask weakly.

“Yeah, it’s still early.” He glances at the clock. “Get changed.” You suppress a groan of frustration.

“It’s the night before a game, you can’t drink.” You argue and he arches an eyebrow.

“Who said anything about drinking? I’m talking about dinner.”

“Oh.” Your response is punctuated by your stomach letting out a loud growl and Bradley gives you a pointed look. “Fine, fine, let me just touch up my makeup and I’ll be ready to go.”

“You’re not going to change?” He arches an eyebrow as he follows you towards the bathroom, pausing at the closet to remove a long coat. You sigh.

“I don’t have anything except my clothes for tomorrow and my pajamas so this is going to have to do.”

“Well at least grab your coat.” You nod, stepping past him to grab it from your garment bag. You dig through the collection of suits you’ve brought and realize you’ve made an error. Letting out an exasperated groan, you lean your forehead against the frame of the door. You abandon the closet to the bathroom to touch up your makeup. When you’re ready you grab your purse and join Bradley where he’s waiting by the door. He looks up from his phone, a frown instantly creasing his forehead. “Honey, where’s your coat?”

“In my closet back in San Diego, apparently.” You shrug as you cross your arms across your chest defiantly. Bradley sighs and shrugs off his coat, handing it to you but you shake your head. “I’m a big girl, Bradley, I’ll be fine.” He gives you a skeptical once-over.

“Honey, you’re wearing a dress that doesn’t reach your knees and barely has sleeves.” He reaches out to run a knuckle along the sheer fabric of your sleeve to accentuate his point. You suppress a shiver at the feel of his finger through the fabric. You scoff softly, reaching down to pinch the fabric of your flesh-toned tights pulling it away from your legs as Bradley’s eyes widen.

“I’m perfectly fine.” You give him a firm look and he just shrugs, tossing his coat over his arm instead of putting it back out.

When the two of you get outside you understand why because you’re shivering as soon as the night air hits you. Bradley sighs in exasperation as he drapes his coat around your shoulders. It’s comically large on you but at least it’s warm. Your eyes train on his now bare arms and you frown at him. He seemed unbothered by the cold. “Aren’t you cold?” He gives you a pitying look.

“Honey I spent half my life in Virginia and the other half in Pennsylvania, this cold doesn’t bother me.” You pout up at him, following behind him as he makes his way down the street.

“I’ll have you know I grew up in Connecticut and then went to college in Wisconsin.” You have to scamper behind him to keep up while holding onto the coat so it doesn’t fly away or fall off and he notices, slowing his stride so you can keep up.

“Could have fooled me.” He replies and you grumble at him. The two of you are waiting for a crosswalk when he eases the fabric of the coat off your shoulders and you whimper as the wind cuts through the sheer material of your sleeves and you whimper at the loss as he slides the coat back on before holding it open in invitation. You’re too cold to argue and you curl against his side. Even in the November air, he’s as warm as a furnace.

The two of you continue walking like that in comfortable silence as Bradley occasionally checks his phone. Finally, you stop in front of what looks to be a pizza place. He holds the door for you and you scoot out from his coat into the warm interior of the restaurant that is indeed a pizza parlor. A sign encourages you to seat yourself so you beeline for a cozy booth in the back. You’re with an NHL player, you may be off the clock but you know better than to sit by any windows. “Not a fan of windows?” Bradley asks as he sits across from you.

You shrug. “I am, but so is the paparazzi.” He raises his eyebrows in surprise like this is the first time he’s considered that. A waiter comes by and takes your drink orders while providing you with menus. Bradley orders a basket of garlic knots without even glancing at the menu and you set your menu down as the waiter leaves, fixing him with a curious stare.

“Have you been here before?” He nods, picking up his menu to peruse it.

“Me and a couple of my teammates used to come here every time we were in Denver.” He explains and you try to hide your surprise. You’re aware that the Bradley you’re seeing here is very different from the one that played for Philadelphia but it’s hard for you to imagine Bradley willingly going out for dinner with his teammates.

“You could have invited some of the guys to come with us.” You suggest and he shrugs.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.” Or is they’d even want to come. You can basically hear the unspoken words that float in the space between the two of you. “Maybe next time.” He resolves half-heartedly.

“Well, maybe it’s better that you just brought me.” You point out as you turn back to your menu. He looks up from his at you. “That way if it sucks, you can keep your dignity.” He scowls at you.

“It won’t suck.” You shrug nonchalantly, a playful smile dancing at the corner of your lips.

“That remains to be seen.”

***

The pizza doesn’t suck, in fact. It might be the best pizza you’ve ever had. You end up letting Bradley order since he’ll probably know what’s best and he delivers in spades. You feel warm from the inside out after stuffing yourself with hot cheese and bread. You sit back, a sated smile on your face as Bradley polishes off the last of the pizza.

“Did it suck?” He asks, a soft smirk on his face as he regards you practically boneless in the booth across from him. You shake your head. “Use your words, Honey.” His voice is low and gravelly and a shiver runs down your spine.

“I think that was the best pizza I’ve ever had.” You fall silent again before you continue. “I think we should move to Denver.” He chuckles at that.

“You’d never survive the cold.” He points you and you glance out the window, frowning absently.

“I absolutely could.” You pout at him. “I’ve lived in the cold before, remember? Plus I used to skate, I’d be fine.”

“Even if you would, you shouldn’t. The sunshine suits you.” You feel your cheeks heat at the offhand compliment. The two of you stare at each other for longer than what you’re sure is deemed appropriate until the waiter comes back with the bill. You reach for your purse but Bradley’s already handing the waiter his credit card. He waves aside your protests. “You came with me, you paid with your company.”

“So I’m a prostitute now?” You arch an eyebrow and Bradley rolls his eyes standing and extending a hand to you.

“I don’t know what universe you live in, but I pay my prostitutes.” He says matter-of-factly as he helps you to your feet. You release his hand and waggle your outstretched palm at him.

“Tens and twenties will be fine.” You grin and he snorts.

“Honey, you’re worth hundreds, don’t sell yourself short.” Your face heats up again and your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest.

You swallow hard and lead the way out of the restaurant. Bradley follows behind you and once you’re back out in the cold, he tucks you back into his coat under his arm. The two of you walk in silence for a bit until you reach the hotel. Once you’re in the elevator, you break the silence. “Does that make Cyclone my pimp?” Bradley groans and pulls you tight against his chest and you let out a squeal of surprise.

“Cyclone needs to stay the fuck away from you.” He practically growls into your ear and you shudder against him. It’s starting to become too much, the compliments, the teasing, the warmth of his body against yours, the way his breath fans across your ear as he growls into it.

“Or what,” the words pass out of you like they’ve been knocked out of your lungs with all the air when he pulled you close.

“Or else I’ll make him.” Bradley’s voice is no less rough as he once again rasps against the shell of your ear. Another shiver wracks your body and Bradley pulls you impossibly closer. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest through your back. “Always shivering, Honey, what’s got you feeling so cold?” He rasps, his fingers rubbing warming circles against your sides and you have to hold back a moan. The elevator doors open, saving you from answering as Bradley herds you to your door. You fumble to free your purse to find your keycard as Bradley plucks his from the pocket of the coat and unlocks the door, and the moment you hear the click he’s pulling you inside.

Before you can escape his arms, he’s crowding you against the door, face-to-face at last. His deep whisky eyes search yours for something and then he presses his forehead to yours and your breath catches. You’re sure he felt it against his own given that you’re practically sharing air. “I asked you a question, Honey.” He whispers and you hear yourself whimper in response. You watch Bradley’s eyes darken at the sound and he lets out a groan. His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, devastatingly gentle even as his beautiful irises are swallowed up by black. He strokes your cheek, waiting for you but the words have died on your lips so you simply surge forward, planting your chapped lips on his.

He kisses you back with a ferocity that almost brings you to your knees. Even amidst the desperate press of your lips, you feel the gentleness in his touch and his words come back to you. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” You whimper against his lips as his tongue darts out, asking for entry that you grant him greedily. When Bradley’s tongue sweeps into your mouth your legs do actually give and you feel his arms drop to pull you close. They wrap around your waist and as you kiss him with a matching amount of ferocity you feel him squeeze your thighs gently and you jump, letting his hands shift to grab full handfuls of your ass and you moan into his mouth. He presses you back against the closed door and you blindly grind your hips against his torso causing him to groan against you. He finally breaks the kiss and you whine at the loss even as he presses your foreheads together again.

“Honey, before we go any farther I need to know that you’re okay with this, and kissing me doesn’t count. I need your words, pretty girl.” You whine again nuzzling your nose against his.

“Bradley, need you,” you’re so out of breath that you barely manage the “please.” You try to grind yourself against him but his grip tightens, holding you in place. Your brows furrow in frustration and you pout at him. But he simply places a soft kiss on your lips before carrying you across the room to his bed.

Rather than drop you, he lays you down almost reverently, keeping you close and you relish in the warmth coming off him in waves. You reach up, pushing at that damned coat of his and he lets go of you to shed it. Before he can get his hands back on you, you’re pushing his t-shirt up, exposing his golden skin that makes no sense since he’s always lived where it’s cold. Your mind conjures up the image of him in his underwear on his balcony under the San Diego sun and you let out another whine. Bradley chuckles, taking the hem from you and yanking it over his head, shaking his dark curls free as he tosses the shirt somewhere behind him.

You don’t know everything, but you know plenty about men. The only thing they care about is their pleasure. If you get off in the process it’s an added bonus but it’s not their goal. If you want pleasure, you have to take it yourself. Over the years you’ve gotten good at it. If they want to play the game, you can play too.

Then he’s back down on you, fiddling with the belt on your dress and your hands are right next to his, pulling it open and squirming to pull it free, tossing it to the side. You’re ready to rip off the stupid buttons of the dress but Bradley takes your hands in one of his, kissing them before planting them above your head. You squirm but his hold is tight and you relax against the bed as his other hand reverently undoes the buttons one by one until they're all undone and all that’s standing between him and your body is the blue fabric. He meets your eyes with his and your heart stops. Even through the darkness swallowing the familiar brown, you can see what could be his heart, served up on a silver platter for you and it's foreign. No man’s ever looked at you like that, especially in bed.

You swallow hard, leaning as far up as his hand on your wrists will let you and kiss him deeply, sliding your tongue into his mouth. It’s messy and frustrated and when his grip loosens on your wrists you pull them free, threading them through those damn curls of his, pulling him closer. You’re practically grinding your mouth on his as you push up and flip your positions, pushing Bradley’s body beneath yours as your dress falls open in the fray. You kick it aside as you clamber onto Bradley’s lap.

You finally break the kiss and Bradley’s cheeks are ruddy with exertion and for a moment he looks like the boy he probably once was instead of the bear of a man that he’s become. His hands come up to grip the flesh of your hips, massaging it as they slide up to cover your lace-covered breasts. The pressure is heavenly and you let out a moan as he squeezes and palms the sensitive flesh. He reaches behind you, unclasping your bra and Bradley casts the fabric aside, hands returning to grope your bare skin. Your eyelids flutter shut in pleasure at Bradley’s ministrations. He pinches a peaked nipple and you let out a whine of desperation, shifting your hips against the rough fabric of his jeans, searching for friction. When his rough tongue laves over the angry skin, you release a shaky breath. You let out a shudder as the weight of your feelings crash into your rib cage at the same time that Bradley’s teeth scrape against the sensitive skin. You’re pulling away from him then, sliding down his body to kneel between his knees. You must be losing your edge if you’re so easily melting under his touch. The control you’re so used to having in these situations is slipping out of reach and you need to take it back. His arms reach for you, to pull you back to him, perhaps to wring more pleasure from you, but precedent says otherwise. There’s no way that’s what he wants. What good would it do him?

“Condom.” You rasp and you hate how desperate and wrecked your voice sounds. “Do you have a condom?” He pushes up on his elbows, nodding, sweat sticking a few curls to his forehead and looking like a disheveled god.

“In my wallet, in my jeans.” You nod quickly, undoing his belt and sliding your fingers into his both waistbands, peeling down his jeans and underwear at once. You fumble for the wallet in the pockets, tossing it to Bradley as you come face-to-face with his cock. The outline you’d seen last night didn’t do it justice. You reach out to grasp the angry red flesh and give it an experimental stroke that has Bradley throwing his head back even as he passes you the condom. You tear the wrapper with your teeth gracelessly, rolling it down his considerable length. The length isn’t what you’re worried about though. Bradley’s cock, like the rest of him, is large, more specifically, wide, and girthy. You swallow hard but refuse to lose your nerve. You crawl back over his body, looking up to see his deep brown eyes watching you, searching for something you can’t decipher. They harden suddenly, his familiar stubbornness rearing its head. “Easy Honey, you’re not ready for that yet. Need to work you up to that, c’mere.” Well, that’s new. You’ve never had a guy question whether he would fit, that’s usually saved for your internal monologue and every single time your nerves are wrong. Your body was made for this, you’ll be fine. That much you know.

He reaches for you but you dodge his grasp, positioning your hips over Bradley’s, bringing your hands down to move the crotch of your soaked panties to the side and guiding Bradley’s length into you.

The air is knocked out of your lungs as you sink down on him. The angle is brutal and unforgiving as your body stretches to accommodate him. You’re not sure if you cry out but suddenly Bradley’s hands are on your arms. He’s sitting up as much as he can without shifting his cock in you, potentially causing you more discomfort. There’s evident worry and frustration in his wide eyes as he searches your face. “You crazy girl, what were you thinking?” You can’t do much more than let out a stuffed whimper because you feel so goddamn full. You’ve never felt so full in your life. Then Bradley’s arms are lifting you and your hands go to his shoulders immediately, nails digging into the skin there as he eases you off of him. Going from being so full to being empty is like a shock to your system and you hold onto Bradley like he’s the only thing keeping you from spinning off your axis. He carefully arranges you in his lap, strong arms wrapping around you, grounding you as you bury your face in the skin of his chest, relishing in his familiar scent. This is completely new territory for you so you latch onto the one thing you know for sure. You feel safe in Bradley’s arms.

“Honey?” His voice is soft, and tentative as he calls for you and you turn to look at him, resting your chin on one of his pecs. “You okay?” He asks, reaching a knuckle to brush across the apple of your cheek. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m not sure.” You admit, heat rising in your cheeks.

“Can I check?” His words are soft and once again he surprises you. He’s worried about your discomfort, your pain. Even while he’s probably not feeling too well himself. You can still feel Bradley’s cock, painfully hard against your thigh and you feel guilty. You nod, hesitantly and Bradley lays you down on the bed again.

This time he’s the one sliding down your body. His eyes ask permission when he reaches your panties and you nod again. He slides the scrap of lace down your legs before gently spreading your thighs. You feel overwhelmingly exposed and make to close your thighs in embarrassment. His strong hands stop you and your breath hitches as he presses a soft kiss against the skin of your hip.

This is all new territory for you. Sure you’ve sought your own pleasure but you’ve never actually had a man down there. The last time you’d been in a relationship that would have even entailed that kind of intimacy, you’d both been young and inexperienced, stumbling around each other’s bodies with no idea what you were doing. Your breath hitches again as Bradley’s hands shift to your inner thighs, spreading you even wider, exposing your soaked core to his gaze. His hands are steady, familiar as they spread you open and you have to fight a moan. His brows are furrowed as he examines your exposed flesh. “Does any of this hurt?” He asks and you’re yanked back to the reason that he’s down there in the first place and you shake your head. He gives you a pointed look and you swallow.

“Sorry, no, no it doesn’t. I think I’m okay.” He takes your words, nodding as he considers them. Then you’re arching off the bed as his tongue licks a stripe up your spread slit. You don’t recognize the sounds you’re making as you gasp for breath. Your vision swims with pleasure and your body is scrambling to keep up as Bradley, seemingly pleased with your reaction, dives into your pussy like a man starved. You feel you’re unraveling at your very core. You’ve never felt pleasure like this. Not at your own hands and definitely not at the hands of any man. The sensations are so intense that you don’t even notice the telltale signs of your orgasm until Bradley eases a thick finger past your weeping entrance and you’re cumming, harder than you ever have in your life. You think you might be sobbing, babbling a chorus of his name. Bradley doesn’t let up, letting you ride out your orgasm as he pumps that finger in and out of you.

Eventually, it becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation and he stills the finger in you as he crawls back up your body. His other hand brushes away the sweat-soaked strands of your hair that cling to your face as he places a sweet kiss to your lips.

“You okay, Honey?” You try to answer him verbally, you really do, but your lips can’t form the words so you nod weakly. He chuckles softly, peppering your cheeks and jaw with soft kisses. You feel like you’re floating outside your body and then his finger is moving again. You whine in pleasure despite your exhaustion and he murmurs sweet praises against your skin between kisses. “That’s it, such a good girl for me. Taking my finger so well. Gotta stretch you out baby, so you can take my cock.” You moan at his words and he eases a second finger into you. You gasp at the sensation as he scissors them, stretching your body with a gentle precision. Then he’s curling them, and you see stars. If you weren’t so fucked out, you’d probably have laughed at how easily he found a spot that every other man you’ve ever been with hasn’t been able to.

Before you know it, you’ve reached your climax again, grasping and gripping his arms to ground yourself as you unravel at the edges. He kisses you through it and you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue. “Hey Honey,” he whispers once you’ve come down and you whimper in response. “Think you can take my cock now or are you too tired, baby?” His knuckles stroke against your cheek and you gaze at him, a look of awe on your face. He’s wrung two orgasms out of you, all without finding his own pleasure and he’s giving you the option to stop? His erection has to be causing him more than just discomfort at this point and yet he’s willing to stop. You feel tears swim at the edge of your vision as you shake your head.

“No, need you, Bradley. Need to feel you.” You reassure him, coaxing him to take his pleasure. He rolls so he’s propped over you, and then he’s easing into you, ever so slowly, his brow furrowed with the effort of holding back as he searches your face for any hint of pain or discomfort. He’s right, though. He’s stretched you out and while you still feel ridiculously full, you don’t feel the way you did earlier. Bradley’s got you, he’s going to take care of you. He’s proved that he wants to and he can.

At the first roll of his hips, the two of you let out strangled groans. Your hands find purchase on his muscles shoulders, already marked from your earlier endeavors and you hold on, riding out the waves of pleasure that he draws out of you as he finally chases his own end. The room is filled with the sounds from your mouths and your bodies as you meld together, both working toward the same goal. Bradley takes you by surprise as he snakes his hand between your joined bodies and when the pad of his finger finds your clit, your head falls back against the bed. Even now, he’s concerned with your pleasure. You didn’t think you could cum again but Bradley’s proving you wrong as your body goes limp on the bed, and he chases his high. Minutes later he’s collapsing beside you, careful not to crush you beneath his weight as the two of you lay in silence, only the racing of your hearts and the staccato of your breath punctuating the silence.

You’re not sure how long you lay there in silence until he eases his cock out of you and you whimper at the emptiness. He’s removing the condom and throwing it away, retreating to the bathroom. As you wait, alone, the weight of what you’ve just done sinks in. Javy’s voice comes back to you then and shame washes over you. “Best case scenario you fuck one out, your feelings go poof.” That’s the problem. Your feelings haven’t gone anywhere. If anything, they’ve just gotten stronger. What if that’s not the case for Bradley? Suddenly you feel so alone, lying bare on his bed. You’ve never felt like this before and you’re overwhelmed. Before you know what you’re doing, you’ve bolted upright, and you’re pulling your underclothes on, grabbing the robe from the closet and wrapping yourself in it, the door to your room clicking shut behind you before you can think about it anymore.

Your mind is racing as you struggle to remember the room assignments. You pray you’ve got the number right as you dash down the hallway and bang on the door.

Javy swings the door open, a smirk on his face until he takes in your appearance and it instantly fades into concern and anger. “Did he hurt you?” His voice is hard, protective in a way you’ve never heard from him before. You shake your head. “No, no, I just… can I come in, Javy, please?” His gaze rakes over your trembling frame once more before he moves out of the way, and you dash into the empty room. Earlier today after the roommates had been reassigned, Javy had drawn the long straw, getting a room to himself and he’d been gloating all afternoon. Now you’re secretly thankful that he couldn’t shut up about it. You’re standing in the middle of the room, awkwardly trembling as he comes back in. He directs you to sit on the made bed while he perches on the one he’d clearly been occupying. You perch yourself on the edge, making sure the robe keeps you covered.

“Okay Zam, can you tell me what’s going on, sweetheart?” He clearly doesn’t believe your earlier statement about Bradley.

“We had sex.” You blurt, ripping the bandaid off. “And, and you said that if we fucked one out that the feelings would be gone but mine didn’t, they actually got worse and I don’t know if Bradley’s are gone and I just-“ you stifle an exhausted sob that threatens to break free.

“Oh sweetheart,” the hard look on his face has melted into a softer expression. “That only applies when the feelings are just lust, and maybe they were at first but something tells me both of you feel a lot more than that.” You blink at him, shock running through you. The sob breaks free and then there are tears running down your cheeks. “Where’s Bradley?” He asks, gently.

You shrug. “He went to the bathroom and I had a chance to think about what just happened and I freaked out so I ran.” His eyebrows go straight up.

“And you don’t think he’s probably freaking out now that he can’t find you?” Your wet eyes widen and you realize what it looks like from Bradley’s perspective.

“Oh my god, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to hurt him.” You’re crying harder now, the exhaustion catching up to you and Javy reaches out to take one of your hands in his.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, Zam, I promise. Why don’t you calm down and get cleaned up in the bathroom, and I’ll go talk to Bradshaw? I’ll grab you some pajamas and anything else you need and you can sleep in here tonight.” You nod as you sniffle, tears still streaming.

“Zam, you know you’re safe here, right? I’d never do anything to hurt you, you know that?” Your heart aches at the sincerity in Javy’s voice as you nod.

“I know. You’re not actually interested in me, I know that.” You give him a watery smile at that as you shrug. “You call me sweetheart, but that’s what you call your sisters.” You see the surprise cross his face.

“Well damn, Zam, you’re good.” He chuckles, reaching out to ruffle your wayward hair. You give him your room number and retreat to the bathroom to clean yourself up.

***

When Bradley comes back from the bathroom, confusion mixes with dread as he sees the empty bed. He’s got a warm, wet washcloth in his hands, intending to help you get cleaned up but you’re nowhere to be seen. Your dress is still crumpled on the floor but your undergarments are gone. Was it not good for you? Usually, he thinks he’s good at reading emotional cues during sex, but it has been a while. He’d have thought that after three orgasms you would have been satisfied. The blissed-out expression on your face when he left for the bathroom had suggested that you were. He pulls on his underwear and sits on the edge of the bed, confusion warring in his brain. What could have possibly caused you to bolt? He’s not left wondering very long when a knock at the door jolts him out of his thoughts. He crosses the room quickly, swinging the door open without a second thought, expecting to see your face but instead he’s met with an unexpected surprise. Javy Machado is standing at his door.

He schools his expression immediately, regarding the other man warily. “Look man, before you say anything, she’s okay.” Bradley lets out a breath he doesn’t know he’s been holding even as confusion clouds his mind. How does Javy know that? Did you go to him? Why? Suddenly he’s seeing the two of you at game night, Javy’s arm around you on the porch and him pulling you into his arms later. He stiffens. Is Javy your boyfriend?

“Okay, I can already see the wheels turning so I’m gonna go right out and say we’re not dating, we’re not anything. Just friends. Yeah, I flirted with her but I just wanted to rile you up, it seemed fun at the time. And I have no idea why she came to me, but she’s freaking out and I wasn’t about to turn her away.”

Bradley’s heart aches at the idea of you feeling scared all alone. He silently curses how long he waited for the sink water to warm up. “Look, maybe it’s not my place, but she likes you man, like a lot. And I think it’s freaking her out. I don’t know why, I don’t really know anything about her personal life, that’s Mickey’s area of expertise but as an older brother, it looks like she’s having trouble managing the size of her feelings and she’s tired on top of that. I’m gonna let her sleep in my room. If you’re worried about me trying anything, I would never but I can sleep in here if you’re really worried about it. She was freaking out so I said I’d come talk to you and get some of her stuff.”

Bradley wants nothing more than to storm over to Javy’s room and scoop you into his arms. He wants to hold you together as you fall apart but if that’s what you wanted you wouldn’t have run and so as much as he hates it, he has to give you space. If Javy’s right, and there really is something between you two worth protecting, he has to let you come to him. He’d been too upfront tonight and probably overwhelmed you when you’d already had an exhausting day.

So Bradley fights every single one of his instincts and goes back into the room, leaving Javy in the doorway. He may not be your boyfriend officially but he’ll be damned if he lets Javy go through your things. He finds your pajamas and a clean pair of underwear. He debates picking one of your suits too but he knows you probably have a specific one picked for tomorrow and would prefer to choose yourself. He ducks into the bathroom for your toiletries before bringing the small collection of items back to Javy with your phone and charger on top. Javy takes them and Bradley watches him leave down the hall. He wants nothing more than to see you right now, but he knows he has to wait for you. You’ll have to come and get your stuff tomorrow morning so he has that to look forward to for now and that’ll have to be enough.

A/N: Bradley nation… how are we feeling?

#you catch more bees with honey // sdd #ycmbwh // sdd #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #TGM #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #Bradley Bradshaw x you #Bradley Bradshaw #bradley rooster Bradshaw x reader #Bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster x you #no use of y/n

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residentdormouse · 3 months

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Find the Words...

... (and the theme)!

Dangerous game you're playing @mrsmungus, tagging me in this. I can hear the train whistles in the distance, and feel the vibration in the tracks... Gotta get my ticket ready, I suppose.

The rules are simple - find a sentence, or excerpt, that includes the words you're given and paste it in, and include a link to the finished story of you want. But honestly, guidelines at best - do what you want.

My words to find: honey, calm, trust, shimmer, darkness, fall, crime, portable, stain, crisp.

(It's not a slam, but I heard honey crisp apples shimmering in the darkness of a calm fall night, and I'm stubbornly sticking with the Autumn theme.)

No Pressure Tags: @imagine-you @cxttlefishcxller @asirensrage @athenswrites (don't feel the need to join in if you don't want, but saw your writblr post, and figured I'd send you one) And of course, sending this right back at you, @mrsmungus. Tag, you're it.

As always - OPEN TAG - if you'd like to join in!

Your words are: White, Cold, Snow, Frost, Ice, Gloves, Hat, Cocoa (or Tea), Blanket, Snuggle/cuddle (or any variation of this)

Excerpts below the cut...

I only have a small amount written ahead for my original story WIP 'Close to the Vale', so most of this will probably still be from the 'Wonderland' fanfiction series ('Something Like a Spiral' and 'Just Keep Diving Down'. I'll give Close first priority though.

Honey: (I was worried about this, but apparently my 'Diving' OC Lauffey has a proclivity for using this word. That said, I also found it in a section that allows me to post 'Fuck off, Flagg' and I can't resist.)

While outwardly charming, maliciousness shown through in the minute details on his face. She should have known this was going to be a big game to him. Cat and mouse, it was his favorite. Fortunately, it seemed like the typical roles were reversed at the moment. "Fuck off, Flagg." "Always so rude. You catch more bees with honey, you know…" If she could have kept all her other memories and just erased him, took away everything about this nightmare of a man, well it would have been a tempting offer. The bubbling anger building up inside her was now a known response to interactions with him. Fear was somewhere close behind, though she wasn’t looking to give him that satisfaction anymore.

Calm: (Two chapters down in 'Close' - Not used in connection with who I thought it would be though...)

"You know him?" The reply was calm and level headed. The same could not be said of the more visible distressed man to his right. "Please. If– If you know anything that could, I mean, anything that help us find—" The picture of another younger man was thrust at her. Same raven hair, same chocolate eyes. Slight differences, but clear relation. Brother most like. He had a striking smile, and she would have been charmed if not for the small tattoo on the inside of his left wrist. Plain as day, just as Paul had said. She may not know this particular man, but she knew where he’d be.

Trust: (found in a short section I wrote for farther ahead in 'Close'. This could potentially change a fair deal. First drafts and all.)

“And you were just going to politely ask me to leave everything. My life? My home?! We were only there to look for you, you know.” “Yeah, I know. Trust me, I fucking know.”

Shimmer: (wow... it's a Flagg day I suppose - pulled this from 'Spiral')

He moved close enough that only inches remained between them, and a chill emanated from his presence. Conflicting to the nature of their conversation, he gently brushed a stray lock of her hair back behind her ear. "I don't need to be your enemy." Despite the chill, his breath was hot against her face, and she braced herself for any attack that followed. But it never came. In a shimmer of smoke, he was gone. Nothing. Emptiness. She let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. "But I have no problem filling the role if that's how you want to play the game."

Darkness: (Might as well let him run with it... Another Flagg burst from 'Diving')

She didn't know where it came from, certainly didn't call for it, but sympathy for the man in front of her shook her resolve momentarily. For somebody with a positive nature, lighter memories are going to pull first. Bright memories to shine through. And there was most likely a larger abundance of them. It's what makes them who they are. Flagg was an embodiment of darkness. What must have happened to turn somebody into this? How does one make a monster such as him? What memories haunted him most? This paired with Rayna’s lack of delicacy. Ruthlessness. "I'm sorry."

Fall: (Not the fall I was imagining, but its all 'Close' has so far.)

Once outside the stuffy office, she found herself easily falling in step next to him. Silence dominated the first few feet. To say she didn’t know where to begin was an understatement. When she came here, she hoped to be leaving with these papers, but not under these circumstances. Not through this exact chain of events. That said, she certainly wasn’t complaining about the change in course. Damsel in distress was not her M.O., but if it led her here, it couldn’t be all bad.

Crime: (Not going to lie - very first draft and not even a completed chapter of 'Close' - has the potential to change a LOT. But I did say I was giving this first crack.)

Why wasn't the general public angry? The security cameras picked up a tattoo on the man leaving the building at the estimated time of the crime. A tattoo known to be a mark of the downtown gangbanger shitheads that were a thorn in many sides. A menace in their own backyard. Shouldn't they want a resolution? A safer community?

Portable: (From 'Spiral' again. Flagg is really showing up today...)

Food, drink, frivolity. Everything was planned out thoroughly. The pavilion was decked out with small lights. A portable generator Glen had found was fired up. But her mind was on her task: Ad Hoc Committee welcome and rundown on the darker agenda. Find out what Larry knew about Flagg, and fill in what blanks she could.

Stain: (Yup, just letting him take it over I suppose... From later in 'Diving' Also snagged a bonus 'shimmer'.)

“It's over now. Do you think anybody here cares about…" her hands waved quickly about him, highlighting his new appearance. "Nobody cares here. Not about that. But that?" Another movement to indicate at her wounds. To the new red stains on her clothing. "That behavior we do care about, and will not be tolerating, do you understand? This is a place of acceptance. All kinds. And we do not fight our own here." A shimmer of bright red flashed over his eyes before it fell to the duller shade. The rigidity in his stance faded away. All outward appearances were reverting back to the carefree persona he usually adopted, as if he were unaffected by the actions surrounding him. Actions from those he surely considered beneath him. But he had shown his cards. He cared. And he hurt.

Crisp: (Well now it just feels weird not having Flagg. Pulled from the last section of 'Diving'.)

Her duster was hanging on the coat rack, and she grabbed it before heading back out. So much for taking a breather from it all, not that she had breath to take. The show must go on; best get back to it before somebody started ad-libbing something she wouldn’t be prepared to say yes to. The night air was crisp on her skin, and she welcomed the cold for a moment. Feeling it on her face was a welcome change from the mornings. Layers upon layers to protect from the hazards of being her. Daytime hours were meant to be her reprieve; she wasn’t built for this nonstop push, but there was little option. Protection was what mattered now. Moving people away, stopping the internal fighting, trying to find what weakness that could be exploited. The thoughts swirled in her head as she walked the dirt path towards the outskirts, but they didn’t have long to sink in. Rumination ended with an explosion, and a burst of light.

#you started this #and I will take no responsibility #for running off the tracks #or on if we're keeping the analogy #alitteration station is just down the tracks #from these theme schemes #mouse is back on her nonsense #mouse's tag games and reblogs #Close to the Vale #Jumping to Wonderland #Something like a Spiral #Just Keep Diving Down

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mrspellcaster · 2 years

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THE BEE AND HER HONEY

- Steve Harrington x Nancy’s childhood best-friend F!Reader

summary: reader is nancy’s childhood bestfriend that is returning to hawkins after a few years. hawkins is slightly more handsome than she remembers word count: 3.3k

warnings : alcohol (safe drinking), pet name honey, fluff af, me!! pushing!! my!! ronance!! agenda!!!, (basically a Nancy x Robin subplot) Steve being introspective/reflecting, did i say cute cute fluff, happpy ending, betting

a/n: last part of this series!! i’ve really enjoyed writing it and and seeing all your comments and tags it’s the best feeling so thank you and thank you so much for reading i hope you enjoy!

1/3 2/3 3/3!!

The third time Steve Harrington saw you he made plans to see you a fourth time. At his house, where he lives.

He was not sure what came over him, what part of you offset his boyish charm, his ability to think, to speak, to breathe.

You made him nervous.

You made him want to be around you all the time. You made him want to make dumb jokes every second just so you would smile at him.

And he’d dated girls, he knew the ropes, tied them himself. Knew what lines made girls blush or prompted praise or were too clever not to get him a date.

But you scared him, just a little bit. After he got his heart broken by Nancy, he thought he’d learned how to protect himself, so he’d never feel hurt like that again. Steve didn’t know if he could handle that.

Even so, there was a bigger part of Steve that was made brave by you. The part that would do anything to make you laugh or added you to the list of people he would die trying to protect.

There was something he couldn’t name, an affection, something in his chest saying,”this could be right, i think this could be right for me.” and it filled him with something warm and bright and overflowing; which also incited him to rent the tape for Weird Science in preparation of your movie night.

—————-

You haven’t stopped pacing for the past 20 minutes. Not since Steve invited you to watch a movie he likes at his house, where he lives.

Somehow, you ended up in Nancy’s bedroom. The entirety of the past hour was a jumbled blur and you weren’t exactly sure how you ended up there at all; had you driven? No, no you’d taken Mikes bike back, of course, the bike you hadn’t exactly asked to take.

There was one something or rather someone that remained clear in your head. You remembered Steve, him warm and dangerously beautiful, you couldn’t recall anything you said to him but you were sure it was something embarrassing, that was the only way you could to justify the butterflies that lingered in your belly.

Maybe it was a bad idea to go, maybe he’d see you and think no, whatever light I saw inside her is fleeting, she left and returned and she will leave again.

Or maybe he was in fact too good to be true. He was painfully gorgeous, possibly an undead creature of some sort, a vampire or siren? Maybe you were falling straight into his unhinged jaw, straight into his coffin, his awaiting green arms.

You’d told all this to Nancy of course; the soundly blue bird on your shoulder, your rock, your gravity, anchor, etcetera.

However, right now she was nothing short of ill-disposed.

“I don’t understand why your freaking out Bee, he asked you to come see him at work and you did. Now he’s asking you to come over and watch a movie so your going to do that, what’s the big deal?”

“No, I just- Steve, he-,” You throw your arms around wildly like your trying to catch the words you need out of the air, “He’s like a mirage, it’s like, I get to Hawkins, and I’m in the desert right, and I’ve been walking forever and it’s super hot, And I look and I see an oasis, and it’s amazing and there’s water and plants and it’s great. and I try to drink the water, but i’m really just eating handfuls of sand Nance, don’t you see, sand. And then I die of dehydration from the salt concentration IN the sand and- god what am I gonna do.”

Nancy is still sitting on her bed watching you like your something funny, she wonders when you started talking with your hands.

“So- you’re saying Steve is the salt?” She says slowly.

“No! No- i’m saying he’s the illusion Nance, he’s like the pretty oasis that’s really just more sand.”

She makes a face.”Steve is not sand Bee, he’s my friend and I think he likes you and I think you like him and you know if I didn’t trust him he’d be well and gone from my life let alone be anyone in yours, you’re going.”

You stop pacing to face her, your lips spreading slowly in an unconvincing grin, you were afraid she’d say that. “Actually, we’re going..”

Nancy stares at you and your stupid jazz hands with wide eyes. You start talking before she can express her dismay, “Before you say anything Robin was there when me and Steve were talking so just maybe I said that you would come too and just maybe Robin jumped on the idea and was really excited that you were gonna be there because you are going- we’re going to Steve’s house to watch some stupid movie tonight okay. And if you refuse then there’s no way I’m going without you.”

Nancy stops chewing on her lip to open her mouth, close it, then open it again.

“Okay.” She says it slowly, drawing out the syllables like she’s giving herself one last chance to chicken out, but she doesn’t. And she’s made the choice to be brave, you both have.

Twin smiles grow slowly on both your faces, until your both giving into that urge and she’s yelling out her excitement and you can’t help jumping up and down.

You’re both too excited to notice Mike swing the door open, begin to say something, then shut his mouth; watching you both for a moment before closing the door shaking his head muttering,”girls.”

——————

Steve has been staring at his drive way for the past 15 minutes.

It took Robin 16 to throw a crumpled popcorn wrapper at his head.

“Stop worrying Steve.” Her voice is half teasing but not unkind. “They’re coming.”

“But what if they aren’t?” He hasn’t stop frowning out the window.

Steve feels her come to stand next to him and place an uncharacteristically gentle hand on his shoulder, “You told her to come at 7, it’s 6:53.” His eyebrows remain pinched. “Didn’t you say she got lost on her way to Family Video? She’s probably on her way right now lost in the maze that is your secluded neighborhood.”

“She doesn’t have a car, she’d come with Nancy, who always comes early and knows exactly where I live.” Robin stiffens behind him and he turns his head to look at her. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous too.”

“Steeve,” She groans and drops her head,”You know how much I like her. She’s so pretty and smart and perfect, and I’m so-.” She waves her hands around huffing.

They both frown at each other, two rain clouds hovering above an unsuspecting town.

Steve is dubious crossing his arms,”Robin, don’t knock yourself, you’re a super cool person, I know Nance sees that too.”

Her frown wanes slowly until she’s smiling and jabs him with her elbow,”I think Bee has made you soft.”

He rolls his eyes fondly, “Real nice Robin. Thanks for ruining our sweet moment.”

She bumps his shoulder with hers,”Hey dingus you know I love you.” Steve shakes his head but not his smile.”I’ll tell you what, 20 bucks if they’re not here in 5 minutes.”

As she speaks Steve watches a yellow light slowly color her face and he glares at her, “You’re evil you know that.” She holds her hand out and he brushes past her. “I did not agree to that bet!”

He comes to stand behind his door, taking one, two big breaths.

“I got this, I’m Steve Harrington, I’m king.”

“Nice pep talk dumbass.”

“Shut up.”

Steve opens the door.

Nancy stands there, smiling brightly, and he has no reason to be surprised as he is.

She’s pink in the face and glances behind him about 30 times in the 30 seconds of silence his shock serves him. He can see her small tells for how nervous she is, the way she plays with her fingers to stop them shaking and the twitch of her mouth, so very quickly he wraps her in a hug.

“Hey Nance,” He rubs her back and she hums a hi back at him.

Then he sees you. Standing behind her in a pretty blue dress, shining at him, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Steve lets Nancy go and he can’t think to close his open mouth.

“Hi.” You’re breathless, and he’s glad you feel whatever it is too.

It’s amazing he’s able to say it back because right now Steve’s thoughts are exclusively on he question of how someone could look so gorgeous under his dingy porch light.

You’re amazed you are still standing up right. The way Steve’s looking at you makes your knees weak; you can feel all the blood rushing to your face, all the air in your lungs, like you’ve been struck by lightning and are now overly aware of your body.

The lightning bolt himself moves out of the doorway and you walk into his house.

You blink away the bright lights and then Steve, the brightest light of them all, is standing front of you again.

He puts his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Do- do you want anything to drink? I’ve got juice, water, beer, coke, whatever you want.”

You look around the room slowly,”Uh, do you have anything.. um stronger?”

Something in his eyes shines, something like bewilderment that quickly melts into amusement.

His lips curve upward,”Follow me.”

Steve starts walking through his house and you spare a glance at Robin and Nancy who are standing an uncomfortable distance apart and both individually giving you a thumbs up.

You breathe out through your mouth and follow him.

He takes you to a wine cabinet, mahogany wood with intricate detailing on the corners, locked by a small keyhole and full of the nicest looking alcohol you’ve ever seen. Steve picks up a flower pot of daisies sitting on a stool nearby. You try not to think about how big his hand looks around its neck. He takes the key from under it and unlocks the cabinet, turning around to smile at your stunned expression.

He makes a hand waving gesture and your eyes can’t help following it,”Pick your poison.” Taking a step forward, you run your fingers over the bottle necks and halt suddenly on bottle of vodka.

Steve chokes on a laugh and you turn to him with your eyebrows raised. “Nothing, just- Smirnoff that’s uh, not what I was expecting.”

You tilt your head at him,”What do I not seem like a Vodka girl to you Steve?”

He blushes,”No, I- I didn’t mean, It’s not that I just-“

Your snickering laugh stops him,”I get it. Now where are your shot glasses?”

Two shots get knocked back in the minute it takes you to pour them. Steve watches you intently, half amazed and half concerned with your eagerness to be tipsy.

You notice the frown he didn’t realize he was making and bite your lip. “I’m sorry, I just.” You again look for the words,”I think, tonight, I need to be brave.”

A flicker in his eye, a light lit then immediately extinguished returns far brighter. “Oh.” He breathes.

Steve’s mouth makes the shape of a small smile and you follow him to the living room where Robin was bringing Nancy a bag of freshly made popcorn.

The couch was generously big enough for all four of you, but there was a suffocating hesitation present in everyone tonight, the air thick with it.

Tonight you will be brave

You sit next to next to Nancy on the middle of the couch, looking between Steve expectantly and the free spot next to you.

He takes the hint.

Suddenly you’re noticeably warmer. You think it’s incredible how hot his body must run, and how nice it feels to be sitting next to him.

Steve is nervous. When did his palms get so sweaty? He wipes them on his jeans. You smell so nice, like vanilla and something floral, he takes a deep breath in.

“Robin.” Did his voice just crack? He hopes you didn’t notice. “Can you start the movie.”

She looks at him, clearly trying to non verbally convey a message that Steve is too dazed to understand,”Sure, Steve.” She says through gritted teeth.

————-

At minute 20 of the movie it was dead silent.

Well not exactly, there was the white noise of the droning movie from Steve’s television. The only other sound was Robin trying and failing to quietly eat the popcorn she made.

Both you and Nancy were leaned forward staring attentively at the screen. Steve kept sparing glances at your expression, watching to see if you laughed at the jokes he thought was funny, cringed at the parts he thought were dumb, you did.

But the silence was getting to him. Was it bad he invited you to his house to watch a movie in silence? You could’ve gone to the theatre, he would’ve taken you there, would’ve done anything you asked.

Steve watched as Robin tried to minimize the sound of her eating by chewing more slowly, but that only prolonged the noise.

He leaned back against the couch and tried to get her attention. He opened his mouth to whisper, but caught himself when he realized just how close his mouth was to your ear, in that same moment you shivered at the feeling of his hot breath on your skin.

He opted for leaning father over the back of the couch and hitting her with his outstretched fingertips.

Robin held her arm protectively and glared at Steve.

He mouthed,”Kitchen.”

“What?”

“Kit-chen.”

She gave him a confused look but nodded clearing her throat,”Me and Steve, we are going to uh girl talk- not girl talk- Steve’s not a- I mean like talk about girls, not you girls! Just girls, conceptually, in general?” The screen catches her eye. “Like this lady, what’s her deal right?”

You don’t turn away from the television, “Well, she’s like a robot kind of person that the two boys created with their computer by hacking into government databases.” You look at Robin and smile,”She’s like Frankenstein’s monster.”

Robin returns your smile and slowly backs away until she’s out of view. Steve quickly takes his leave as well and follows her to the kitchen where he finds her sitting on the ground still eating the popcorn she made.

“Frankenstein’s monster if he was a super hot mom, this movie is awesome.”

Steve crouches down to sit next to her,”I’m glad you think so.

She turns her body to face him,”What’s up Steven?”

“Do you think they’re having fun? Nobody saying anything is kind of freaking me out.”

“Hey, hey, Id be more bothered if they were talking during the movie. Bee is only watching it because you said you liked it, she’s watching it for you Steve. I think it’s sweet how much she’s invested.”

Steve hadn’t considered that, if he was honest he wasn’t as passionate for the movie as he was for hanging out with you. It was more an excuse to spend time with you.

His heart was warm. Robin leaned against him,”Alright captain what’s our next move?”

“I think we should talk to them, alone, separately. I think you need to tell Nancy how you feel.”

Robin laughed disbelieving,”That’s a pretty big step especially for me. You do know it took me 6 months longer than all the other babies to walk.”

“That explains a lot- Ow!” Robin pinched his arm. “Where have your baby steps gotten you up to now?” She glares at him and his stupid rationality and Steve catches onto her hesitation. “You only have to be brave once. Just for a moment, and then everything will work itself out.”

“You’re sure?”

“How could it not? Think of everything that’s happened in just the past year, and here we are watching a movie with the girls we like, we’ve survived being captured by Russians, you can survive an honest conversation Nancy Wheeler.”

“Have you seen her with a gun??”

Steve laughs, it’s easy,”You’re just lucky you haven’t been on the other end of Nancy with a gun.”

They came back into the living room just in time to hear your whispering conversation with Nancy abruptly end. Both of you sitting up unnaturally straight up with sheepish expressions at being caught.

“How did your girl talk go?” You ask and you mean it.

Robin holds her hands intertwined in front of her, “Um, well I think that I need to talk to a certain girl, outside maybe, if she doesn’t mind.”

Nancy is flushed, unusually still and gazing at Robin with shiny eyes. They stare at each other for a moment then Nancy breathes,” Okay.”

You watch your best friend stand, shaking slightly, you watch Robin open the door for her, watch the two girls float after each other.

The cushion shifts slightly as you feel Steve sit down next to you.

“I think she really likes her.” You think out-loud, you’ve never seen Nancy like that, light like that.

“Yeah-“ He pauses, “Wait, how do you know Robin likes Nancy?”

You completely turn around to face him, knee knocking his. “Robin likes Nancy! That’s the best news I’ve heard since-“ It’s hard to think when Steve’s looking at you like that, like you’re golden.

He grins at you,”I’ll bet you 20 dollars they get together by the end of the night.”

You raise an eyebrow grinning,”By the end of this movie.”

“Oh you are so on.”

Eyes twinkling, locked in on each other. And neither of you can remember what you were talking about, Steve’s thinking about your eyes and what the something he doesn’t recognize that flashes in your eyes could be.

“What?”

Twisting the ring on your index suddenly becomes terribly interesting ,”Nothing it’s just, uh,” You look at your hands in your lap.”You’re not really the Steve Nancy wrote to me about.

His expression flickers from something dejected to more thoughtful. “I- uh, well the past few years have, have really changed the way I live. The people I’ve met, these people I love, they help me grow and be better, and I’m still growing and learning, everyday, and I’m so thankful for all these people for helping me find my way, especially Nance.” Steve scratches the back of his neck,”I was alone for a lot of my life, I had all these friends that didn’t care about me or just liked me for my name. And well, the old parents were never around to begin with so I just thought- I just thought I could get away without needing anyone. But the people in my life are everything to me, they mean everything to me and I’m very lucky to be where I am. So yeah, I’m not him, but if I needed to be him to be who I am now then I’m glad.”

He looks up to see you looking at him so affectionately, he blooms like a daisy under your stare.

Steve wasn’t expecting you to kiss him on the cheek, but now you have he’s sure there’s nothing sweeter.

He grins smugly but his blush gives him away, his eyes drop to your lips.

Steve feigns a yawn only to stretch so he can place one arm behind you on the back of the couch. You give him an unimpressed look, “Real smooth honey.”

He’s glowing, he leans his face closer to yours,”Honey? I like that.”He is still staring at your mouth,”The Bee and her Honey.”

A whisper, “Can I kiss you?”

A smile,”Please do honey”

Outside by the pool, Nancy and Robin are smiling at you through the window, fingers intertwined, standing closely together, shoulders brushing.

Nancy curses.

“What?”

“I bet Bee $20 that I would kiss you before she kissed Steve.”

Robin laughs, Nancy’s favorite sound,”Well I can’t fix that, but I think I can help with something else.”

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