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imaginaryf1shots · 3 months

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Soulmate | Max Verstappen Ver.

WC: 4.1K

Max x journalist!reader

Summery: you live in a world where soulmates exist, and until you find yourself, you only see in black and white.

Warnings: none?

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Lewis Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver.

In a world where everyone is born seeing black and white, the promise of seeing colour is on everyone's mind. The key to unlocking the colours is your soulmate. Meeting their eyes will make you be able to see all the hues and shades of the world. Those who see colours describe it so beautifully. People usually discover their soulmates between the age of 18 and 25, some earlier and some later. However, some people start to lose hope when year after year passes and no colour is introduced into their lives.

You have lived your life hoping and believing that one day, a single glance will change your world. But as you've hit your adult years and not a single colour, you've lost hope, all your friends and family see colour already, even your 13 year old cousin. So you just came to terms with seeing life in monochrome. You just focused on your career, building it up and making something of yourself.

You've worked in a few sports before, football, tennis before you moved to motorsport, starting with NASCAR then Formula 2 and here you are now after two months in Formula 2 you've been promoted to Formula 1. The world of formula 1 is very fast-paced, and you find yourself deep in it, watching old races and interviews and races. The sport intrigued you, the races, the adrenaline, the drama.

Due to your easy going nature, and how you can get people comfortable, you've been made to interview the drivers for a new segment for F1TV, a room was giving to you on track and each week you sit down for a long interview with two drivers.

“I just don't understand. Why won't you try it?” You heard your mum's voice through your phone's speaker. Rolling your eyes at her words as you got ready for the day. “Don't roll your eyes at me.”

You sigh and wonder how she always knows when you do that. “Mum, I told you, I don't want to.”

“I just don't get why, I've heard of so many stories of people being happy after they try it.”

“Mum, please, I'm busy with work, I don't have time for any of this.” You exasperated.

“That excuse died a long time ago.” Your mum fought back.

“Mum, I love you, but you just don't get it, so please just leave me be.”

“I only say this because I care about-”

“You don't understand, and you never well, okay, you found dad when you were 19, you've found him and you never had to go on dates for people who lost or gave up, and yes I kind of lost hope, I'm not getting my hopes up anymore, but it kills me, why do I not have a soulmate, everyone I know already found theirs and I hear about it all the time, I'm lonely, I'm extremely lonely, even when I'm out with friends when we have family gatherings I'm lonely, and I heat about colours and shades and all I see is grey, so don't try to enterfer anymore please, just let me be.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“I'm sorry, love.” Was all she could say in the end. “I didn't realise.”

“I know you didn't.” Your voice sounded defeated. “I have a to go, I'll talk to you later.”

“Okay, honey, talk to you later.”

Your conversation with your mother left you feeling down and unmotivated.

This weekend, you'd be interviewing Alex Albon and Max Verstappen. Alex came first, and you sat down in front of the cameras for the lengthy interview. The set was cozy, and Alex was a blast to interview. You talked about racing to his pets, to golf, to his dreams, and so on. Alex is funny and easy to talk to you, so the interview went smoothly, and he didn't stop talking, and it all just flowed easy between the two of you. Even with your bad mood, you still enjoyed your time, and your mood got better.

After Alex left with a quick hug, you were told that Verstappen would be coming a bit later than anticipated, so you'd have 45 minutes between the interviews. That time, you and the crew took a break and ate some food before you had to be ready once more for the reigning world champion. And right before he came in, one of the crew rushed in and went straight to you and the producer.

"Max is apparently in a very bad mood. The media panel today was a disaster." He told the two of you, your eyes met the producers in worry. You've seen interviews of angry Max, and you weren't looking forward to interviewing him, not after the morning you had.

"I thought we only had drivers without the panel for the week?" You asked, confused.

"I did, too. There must've been a mix-up either with us or his schedule." The producer told you. "What was he asked?"

"Uh, they asked about him not finding his soulmate, and if it's maybe a sign that he's meant to be alone." You and the producer gasped at the rude question, of course his mood was soured, you don't ask or speak about people who haven't found their soulmates like that, you knew the pain of not finding your other half very well, and it's always painful to constantly asked about if you found them. "They even asked if he thinks his mood will get better once he does and if he'll calm down."

"Wow, that's just, that's so rude." The producer said and looked at you. Everyone knows you haven't found yours as well. The producer gave you a smile and patted your shoulder. "Don't worry and just stay calm. Our questions aren't intrusive or uncatting. We don't have anything about his love life.”

“You're right.” You nod to yourself in encouragement.

Max walks in with his entourage, his press officer walks over to you and the producer, she tells you to just jump into the interview seeing as he ran late to come here and he has other things he needs to do after.

You glance at the driver as he gets mic-ed up. Max's presence was imposing, his haw was set, and his eyes were hard. You could feel his mood even from a distance. The producer hurried you along.

You sat on the comfortable sofa, you try out the sofas each week to make sure it's comfortable for the drivers, as the sport light was on you. You introduced yourself with a fake smile, glancing at Max for a second before looking at your notes.

"Good afternoon, Max." You started calming your racing heart by saying to yourself that this is just an interview. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today. How are you feeling about this weekend's race?"

"It's going to be a challenging race, but I'm confident." Max's expression remained guarded, but he responded as calmly as he could. "The team has done a great job, as we're well-prepared."

"That's always good to hear." You replied, keeping your tone light. Maybe this won't be too bad. "This track has a lot of history. Do you have any special memories or moments here that stand out to you?"

"Definitely, this was one of the first tracks I raced in in Formula 1." Max's gaze softened, and yet again, your eyes just looked all over his face not meeting his eyes, even in monochrome you couldn't deny how good looking he is, you wondered what colour his hair is, it looks soft.

"It's a very demanding track, but once you get it right, it's very rewarding."

"That's wonderful." You nodded, feeling the tension ease just a bit. "Now, moving away from racing for a moment, how do you usually unwind during the season? Especially with such a long season, do you have any hobbies or activities that help you relax?"

As you asked the question, you looked up, meeting Max's eyes for the first time. In that split second, and as you blinked, everything changed. The world around you, previously in grayscale blur, just erupted into vibrant, breathtaking colour. Starting from Max's eyes, their shades the first thing you've seen, and moving to the color of his clothes, the sofa and everything around you, everything has come to life in a way you've never experienced before. Max's eyes warm and held an expression mirroring your own.

Max blinked, and in an instant, his stern an slightly annoyed façade/mood broke, a genuine smile that he never had before broke across his face.

"I-uh." He cleared his throat to try and regain some of his composure after the revelation he just had, both your eyes meeting and not straying from each other. "I enjoy spending time with my family and friends." He said, his voice softer, almost as if he was speaking to you alone. "I also spend a lot of time sim racing and gaming with my friends, a bit of FIFA here and there."

Like Max, you could hardly believe what had happened, fighting to maintain your composure, you continue a smile tugging at your lips. "That sounds like a lot of fun. Do you ever play FIFA with other drivers? I imagine it would get pretty competitive."

"Yes, we do, sometimes." Max chuckled, the tension between the two of you completely dissolved to the amazement of everyone behind the cameras. "It's always a good time, and it definitely gets competitive. We take it seriously, even though it's just for fun."

The crew keeps exchanging confused glances unaware of the profound shift that had occurred. You force yourself to focus on the next question, the vibrant colours making everything around you feel surreal.

“Speaking of competition, if you weren’t a Formula 1 driver, what other career path do you think you might have taken?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Max leaned back, considering the question. “I’ve always been passionate about sports, so maybe something related to that, like engineering or coaching. I enjoy working closely with a team and seeing how everything comes together.”

“That’s really interesting.” You said, nodding. “It shows how much you value teamwork and the technical aspects of the sport.”

“What about you?” Max asks, and you look at him confused. “If you weren't a journalist, what would you want to be?”

“Oh, since I choose sports and have been surrounded by it for years, I think I'd be a sportswoman.” You tell him with a smile. “You're lucky, I'm too old to get into karting.”

“Guess, if you were into karting, we would've met years ago.” You knew what he meant. You could've met your soulmate years ago if you'd been in karting.

“I guess so.” You try not to think about the what ifs as you ask the last question. “One last question that we ask to every driver, what advice would you give to young aspiring drivers who look up to you?”

Max’s eyes met yours again, a spark of connection undeniable between you. “I’d tell them to stay focused and never give up. It’s a tough journey, but if you’re passionate and willing to work hard, you can achieve your dreams. It’s important to stay dedicated, even when things get tough.”

“Great advice, Max. Thank you so much for your time. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.” You concluded, barely able to contain the smile spreading across your face.

Max smiled back, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. “Thank you. It’s been great speaking with you, too.”

The interview wrapped up, but as the revelation between the two lf you lingered you didn't want to leave, after so many years of guessing who your soulmate be and almost giving up entirely you didn't want to be apart from even for a second.

Max may seem tough to people, strong and determined, but he's spent nights dreaming of when he'd finally meet you. His thoughts lately have been of self doubt, maybe everyone is right, and the reason he hadn't met you yet is that he doesn't deserve you. He's too hot-headed, too aggressive. But here you are, proving him and everyone who doubted him wrong.

The crew, oblivious to the transformation, began packing up the equipment, their chatter and movements a blur in your colourful new world.

Max turned to you, his demeanour noticeably lighter, a subtle smile still playing on his lips.

“I don’t have my phone with me.” Max managed to find his voice, his voice softer now, almost tentative. “Could I borrow yours for a moment?”

“Of course.” You replied, your voice trembling slightly as you handed him your phone.

He took it with a nod of thanks and quickly entered his number, calling his own phone to ensure that he'll be able to contact you after the day is over. When he handed your phone back, your fingers brushed, and an electric jolt shot through you, confirming the profound connection. As if the colours weren't enough, the electric feeling that went through you is a confirmation. Max left the room with a lingering look at you.

The crew, sensing something unusual but unable to pinpoint it, exchanged puzzled glances. One of your colleagues approached, and his brow furrowed in confusion.

“What just happened?” He asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Did you two know each other before?”

You struggled to keep your emotions in check, a smile fighting to break free. “No, we just...connected.” You said, unable to find the right words to describe the whirlwind of emotions and the explosion of colour that had transformed your world.

Max left the room and started to look around, as if he's seeing everything for the first time and in a sense he was. He took in the colours that have been described to him many times before, he looked to the sky and saw the blue everyone described, he saw a few trees and saw the green leaves and the brown trunk. Everything looked so different now.

The rest of the day you both got questions and buzzed looks from those working with you, both your moods are good and it's not wavering, it's not changing. The realisation of what had happened, of finding your soulmate in such an unexpected place, left you reeling.

Later, as the paddock began to empty and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the vibrant landscape, as you stood and watched your first colourful sunset, you received a message from Max.

Meet me after you finish work. We need to talk.

Time could couldn’t go by fast enough, you kept looking at your phone waiting for Max to tell you where you'd meet you had finished your work for the day, but work for F1 drivers take kuchen longer than yours. Every moment stretched into eternity as you waited for it to end. As you looked at the sun from the top of the FIA hospitality, you wished Max was with you enjoying your first sunset together. You dont know Max, you know if Max, but you've never met before today, but you feel like you do. It feels like everything is alright, like the world is finally tilted the right way, gravity is finally working.

come to redbull motorhome.

You made the jounry from the FIA building to redbull, right as you reached through building Max came out and gestured for you to come in, trying not to be seen by fans or cameras. He made you walk in front of him, his hand on your back as he guided you. You feel the heat, and even the electricity was evident through the layers of your clothes, you relaxed instantly to his toutch, leaning back into it. Max sighed. It felt like he could toutch you skin to skin, the feeling vibrated through him filling him up.

Max led you to his room. From the tours you've seen other teams do, Max's room looked the best. You both sat on the sofa facing each other. Your eyes were just taking the other in, Max's hair was ruffled, as if he ran his hand through it a lot. You took in his eyes, which you now know are blue, his nose the shape of his jaw, yhe frekle on his lips, you're trying to memorise him. Tattoo him into your mind.

Max took your hand in his, and you wonder if the feeling of electricity will remain forever or will it fade with time. You both close your eyes for a moment.

“Did you have a good day?” You asked softly after you opened your eyes.

“It didn't start ikay, but there's something that made my day, my week, my life.” Max replied, his voice gentle. You couldn't fight the smile that took over your face. There was a moment of silence, each of you searching for the right words to express the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling.

“I can’t believe what happened earlier.” You began, your voice filled with wonder and disbelief. “I never thought... I had almost given up on finding my soulmate.”

Max nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Me too. I’ve been so focused on racing, I started to think that maybe it wasn’t going to happen for me. But then I saw you, and everything changed.”

You leaned closer, it wasn't a conscious decision, but you were feeling the warmth of his presence. “I’ve been living in black and white for so long, I forgot what it felt like to hope. And now, it’s like... like everything has come alive.”

Max squeezed your hand, sending a familiar electric thrill through you, a reminder of the bond you had discovered. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve been so caught up in my career, I stopped looking for anything else. But today, meeting you... it’s like the world has finally made sense.” You smiled, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and joy. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? How we can go from feeling like we’re missing something, to finding everything in a single moment.”

“I’m so glad we found each other. It’s like a dream come true, one I never thought I’d get to experience.” Max’s gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the same vibrant colors that now filled your world.

You squeezed his hand, feeling the connection deepening with each passing second. “I’m happy too. I was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t meant for me, that maybe I’d never see the world in colour. But now, being here with you... it feels like everything was leading up to this.”

Max’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, his hand still holding yours. “I know we’ve just met, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. It’s like... like we were always meant to find each other, no matter what.”

You nodded, tears of happiness welling up in your eyes. “I feel the same way. It’s like all the waiting. All the wondering was worth it because it brought me to you.”

He gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring. “We have a lot to look forward to.” he said softly. “And I can’t wait to experience everything in colour, either you.”

You leaned into his touch, your heart filled with a warmth you had never known before. “Me too, Max. I’m so grateful we found each other, even if it took a bit longer than we expected. It was worth the wait.”

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, the world around you fading into a blur of colour and emotion. For the first time in your life, you felt complete, the missing piece of your heart finally found.

As you sat there in his room, the noise from outside faddws away and a that mattered was that you found each other.

Later that week on Sunday, you find yourself in the media pen, Max wasn't on the podium after contact with another driver on track, Max wasn't amused, he hated losing, he was clearly not satisfied. The frustration was evident in his clenched jaw and the tense set of his shoulders as he made his way through the sea of microphones and cameras, his responses curt and tinged with irritation. The incident with another driver had cost him the win, and you could already sense the frustration simmering in the air.

Finally, it was your turn. As he approached, you could see the tension in his posture, the anger still simmering just below the surface. You offered a gentle smile, hoping to soften his mood.

“Hi, Max. Tough race today.” You began, keeping your voice calm and understanding. “Can you walk us through what happened out there?”

Max sighed, his expression strained but slightly less harsh as he met your gaze. “Yeah, it wasn’t great. We were doing well, but then there was contact with another car, and that threw everything off. It’s frustrating because we had a good chance of winning.”

You nodded, listening intently. “I can understand how disappointing that must be. Can you tell us more about the incident? What exactly happened?”

He glanced around, his irritation still evident but less intense than before. “He was going for an overtake, and I thought I had enough room, but we ended up colliding. It cost us a lot of time and positions. It’s just... frustrating.”

Your heart went out to him. You wanted to offer some comfort, to show him that you understood his frustration. Max was leaning his hands on the barrier so you subtly reached out and touched his hand, a gentle, reassuring gesture. He glanced down, surprised, and when he looked back up at you, his eyes had softened.

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Max.” You said, your voice filled with genuine concern. “It must be tough to end the race this way after all the hard work you and the team put in.”

He took a deep breath, his expression relaxing a bit more. “Yeah, it’s not the result we wanted, but that’s racing. We’ll learn from this and come back stronger. Thanks for understanding.”

You offered a supportive smile, your hand still resting lightly on his. “I’m sure you will. You’ve always shown great resilience. What’s the plan moving forward from here?”

Max’s mood seemed to lighten further, the tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “We’ll go back, analyze what happened, and make sure we’re better prepared for the next race. It’s important to keep looking forward.”

“Absolutely.” You agreed, your voice encouraging. “One setback doesn’t define you or the team. You’ve got a lot of races ahead, and I’m sure we’ll see you back on the top soon.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Thanks. It means a lot to hear that.”

As the interview wrapped up, Max’s demeanor was noticeably calmer. The frustration from earlier had dulled, replaced by a quiet determination. He glanced at you, a hint of gratitude in his expression.

“Thanks for the interview.” He said, his voice softer once the mic was out of his face. “And for... you know, understanding.”

You smiled back, your heart lifting. “Anytime, Max. I’m sure the next race will be better.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to leave. Max will always be grateful for you. He's known you for a couple days, and you both spent all of your free time together and texting whenever you could. He felt like you understood the highs and lows of racing making him bind with you more. You understood sport and how everything can change in a second.

For now, the disappointment of the day was behind him, and the promise of future victories lay ahead. And in that brief, quiet moment, you had been able to offer a bit of comfort, a reminder that even in the toughest times, there’s always a reason to look forward.

Max accidently said he sees colour in one of the interviews a few months later, and so the hunt for his soulmate has begun. Thankfully, since you work in F1, you weren't suspected, and so you were able to keep your privacy. For a while.

During winter break, photos of you were released to the public, and the fans have gone wild. Every single interaction you've had was cut and edited. And the moment your eyes met went viral all over social media, in the F1 sphere and outside of it.

For you and Max, you're both just glad you finally found your other half. That you don't have to go through this world alone.

Vote for the next one

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

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moonbakeries · 1 year

Text

HOW I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE IN A WEEK

BACKSTORY

So I decided to fully immerse myself in "persisting" and fulfilling when I listened to Lonely one by LOVA because I spent around an hour just sobbing because I related to the song.

the week that I started was around Easter break and I was under the most amount of stress I have ever been through and I could see it the effects on my body

I was breaking out with huge pimples even though I was on accutane, I was averaging 2 hours of sleep a day every week for 2 weeks, my period had going on for 2 weeks, I was losing weight rapidly (was under 35kg:( ) my anxiety was at an all time high because I got harassed again(sexual assault victim). I used to have severe depression and have had multiple failed attempts of suicide. AND YES I WAS DESPERATE AS FUCK TO MANIFEST THIS DREAM LIFE OF MINE WHICH IS NO LONGER A DREAM

in the mornings I would be super anxious but I learned how to deal with it and get myself into the state super easily

HOW I DID IT

I GOT OFF TUMBLR: you know how many times I doubted myself only to realise I was doing everything right

I also read and listened to Edward Art MULTIPLE TIMES

Within a week of fulfilling and persisting, I had manifested my dream life. just like that. I woke up one morning and everything I had ever desired was right there. and it was super easy.

all I did was affirm(to remind not to get), visualise and feel. I would only do these methods if I wanted to, if I didn't I wouldn't.

Within a few days, the anxiety lessened so much and it started to feel natural.

this was a question on Bambi's " how I manifested with hard circumstances " post which has now been sadly deleted but I remember copying this because it gave me hope at the time I copied it (don't hope, just know)

"But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?” you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track. I rant for 2% of my 24 hour days. The other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and I felt more at ease. I held onto that feeling because I knew this was when I would get my desires and I did."

and that was when I knew I shouldn't give up and I just kept going even when I wanted myself to just get on tumblr and overconsume

I actually nearly decided to see what I was "doing wrong". I clicked on one of Aphrodite's posts but I didn't read it. I just asked myself if I would look through it if I had my desires and I wouldn't and since I already have all of my desires I didn't.

Whenever the anxiety was too strong and I could feel the frustration and desperation building up, I would just rant and it helped me calm down and get back into the state super easily.

why?

because STATES MANIFEST THOUGHTS DON'T

which is why you can rant.

you know how many FUCKING DOUBTS I had, but I didn't even give them attention coz they didn't deserve any and how many times I wanted to just give up, but I was like NO, STFU, I DON'T WANNA LIVE MISERABLY ANYMORE and now I'm not :)

The affirmations I used:

It is done

I am living my dream life

I am in my desired reality

The 3d will conform as long as i keep persisting

Imagination is the real reality

I also daydreamed, but since imagination is the real reality they were real

WHAT I MANIFESTED

- desired appearance

- name change

- family change

- skills (drivers licence etc)

- apartment and furniture

- wealth

- a bunch of random materialistic things

- desired friend group (I absolutely love them!)

- desired uni and always getting good grades

- outfits from pinterest

and a bunch of other things

- I also ended up manifesting an sp without even knowing and he's pretty much I everything I scripted him to be(scripted a year ago because I didn't really care for a relationship) but this happened before I manifested my dream life

after a year and half of being on loablr I finally manifested my dream life. and you can too

(there was probably over 100 things I wanted but I realised what I want is not much, nothing ever is when you know about loa and yes, i was super desperate)

you don't need anymore information other than @angelsinluv states post and fulfillment challenge

you shouldn't ever be stressed or worried while manifesting whatever you want, because you wouldn't stress if you had it

TAKE YOUR TIME

YOU GOT THIS

#success story #affirmations #loassumption #law of assumption #dream life #manifesting #manifestation #loa

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vivwritesfics · 6 months

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Grow Old With You

Bob didn't want to introduce his girl to his squad. But she was his fiance and he did want them at the wedding. When Hangman tries it on, Bob knows she really is the one

This is so fluffy I love him sm

She squeezed his hand. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to," she whispered to him.

When Bob turned to her, she fixed his hair and gently pushed his glasses up his nose. He shook his head and squeezed her hand. This was something they had to do, he knew it.

After he had been called back to Top Gun, Bob had been permanently stationed in San Diego (aside from deployment). He and the rest of his squad were kept together, ready at a moments notice to be called back to Top Gun.

After two months of living there, the most beautiful woman knocked on his door. Her car had broken down and her phone had no battery. Bob was only too happy to help. She'd introduced herself abd he introduced himself right back. Except he introduced himself as Robert. Nobody called him Robert.

"But you can call me Bob," he said quickly, correcting himself. Bob had offered her something to eat while they waited for the tow truck to arrive.

They'd spoken a lot in that time. She found out he was a Weapon Systems officer and she was fascinated. It was easy to lose track of time with Bob.

Before she knew it the tow truck was pulling up outside. While the mechanic hooked her car up, she wrote down her phone number and left it on his kitchen table, praying he would call her.

She didn't tell him she had left it. Bob couldn't help but regret not asking for her number as she climbed into the tow truck. He should have gone with her, he thought instantly. Or, at least driven her there himself.

But it was too late, and he doubted he'd ever see her again. Sighing, he headed back into his house. He didn't notice the little piece of paper on his table at first, walked past it at least four times before he finally saw it.

And, when he did see it, he immediately saved her number to his phone. He didn't text or call right away, but he didn't know how long to wait.

This wasn't his department. This was something Hangman and Rooster usually did. Part of him was itching to ask them for advice, but he wanted to keep her to himself. God knows as soon as Hangman and Rooster found out about her, it would be game over for him.

The WSO looked at his future wife, at the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He could do this. For her, he could do this.

Bob lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. "Ready," he said and pulled her towards The Hard Deck.

He couldn't very well message Rooster and Hangman, he knew that. But there was one person he could ask for advice. Nat was only to happy to help Bob with what to say. She gave him flirty lines to text to her.

But, the more that Natasha sent to him, the more things didn't feel right to Bob. He couldn't send any of these. 'You can take a ride in my cockpit ;)' and 'Are you a tarmac? Because my heart wants to land and stay with you' especially didn't feel right to him.

Bob thanked Natasha for her help, but he didn't take it. No, three days after he had met her, three days after she had left her number on his kitchen table, Bob finally messaged her.

'Hey, it's Bob'

That was all his text said. Anxiously he waited for her to text back. What if she doesn't? What if she was just being polite? What if she'd already forgotten about him?

'Hey, the WSO, right?' She had texted back. 'I was beginning to think I wasn't going to hear from you, haha'

The way Bob's heart was beating, he couldn't believe it. She was interested, and she had been waiting for him.

Bob felt the blush raising to his cheeks as he typed back a response. They texted through the afternoon, only stopping because they needed to sleep. The conversation ended with her asking him over for dinner, to repay for how he helped her when the car broke down.

The music didn't stop when they walked in. That would have been dramatic, but very fitting, thought Bob. But, the way all if his squad was staring at him, the music might as well have stopped.

She squeezed his hand and he started forward, taking her over to the squad. Only Natasha knew of her existence and, as much as Bob wanted it to, he couldn't keep things that way.

The dinner was the first date of many. Neither of them had known it was a date, not until much later in the relationship. There was a second, and then a third. On the third they found themselves on his couch, her arms around his neck as they kissed.

It was maybe two months after that third date that they realised the first dinner they had was their first date. But Bob already had the date memorised.

Bob had let her set the pace on their relationship. She was the one who had him wrapping his arms around her, she was the one jumping into hid arms after days apart and kissing him softly.

Four months of this and Bob realised that he wanted to grow old with her.

"Who the hell have you got there, Baby On Board?" Hangman called. He wasn't looking at Bob, concentrating on the woman stood beside him. As he usually did when facing a gorgeous woman, Jake wore his killer smile.

"Shut up," Natasha said to him as she strode forward. "I'm Nat, its nice to finally meet you."

Although this was her first time meeting them, Bob had been sure to tell his girl all about them. As they cooked dinner together, moving in tandem around the kitchen, he'd tell her about their first time at Top Gun, when they were all called back for a mission.

They were stories she'd never get bored of hearing. Her Bobby, the weapon systems officer.

They introduced themselves to her. One by one she shook their hands grinning at them. Bob couldn't help but feel slightly protective as she shook Bradley and Jake's hands.

As the game of pool resumed, Bob sat himself on a stool and pulled her into his chest. His hands settled over her stomach and she leaned against him as she spoke to his squad.

After a good few minutes, Bob hopped up from his seat. "I'll get us some drinks," he said and kissed her cheek. She squeezed his bicep as he walked to the bar.

As soon as Bob was out of sight, Jake came walking towards her. He was the only one she recognised from just how often her Bob complained about him. "What did Baby On Board do to get a pretty thing like you?" He asked as he leaned against the wall beside her, towering over her.

She stared at him, clearly unimpressed. "Uhm, he's sweet, lovely, a perfect gentleman and incredibly hot," she said as she looked towards the bar, searching for her Bobby.

But Hangman wasn't giving up. "Okay, so what do I have to do to get a girl like you?"

She reeled of the list she had just given him.

"Okay," he tried again, leaning closer. "What do I have to do to get you?"

She rolled her eyes. Finally Bob came back and passed her a beer. "Thank you, Bobby," she said and kissed his cheek as he wrapped an arm around her. She turned her attention back to Jake and held up her hand, revealing the ring on her finger.

"Oh," Hangman said and backed away.

Bob grinned and leaned down to kiss her. This was the woman he was going to spend his life with.

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader smut #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd smut #robert floyd x you #top gun #top gun bob #top gun maverick

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futurewdclandonorris · 11 months

Text

Friends Don't | George Russell⁶³

Pairings: George Russell x fem!bestfriend!reader

Summary: you go out to celebrate George's home race win, not even imagining what the night will bring

Warnings: smut, drunk driving, unprotected sex

A/N: you will maybe have to necessarily read part 1 and part 2 hehe. For the sake of the plot, we'll pretend some things already happened. I've spent the whole week writing this and only got it to all click together from the third attempt. Third time's a charm, right? But at least had a blast while editing, which is a rarity. I actually enjoy writing these 'chapters' and building this world sm <3

Sundays were a day for rest and relaxation. A day for sitting down with a good book and a cup of coffee. A day for cuddling up with a loved one and watching a movie. A day for taking some time for yourself; a day to reflect and recharge.

That was, of course, unless your best friend was George Russell. And that your Sundays didn't consist of spending most weekends a year at different race tracks around the world. Not all of them, but you tried to be there for him at least once or twice a month, as much as the opportunity allowed.

That afternoon, George took the checkered flag in Silverstone in P1 and now you were in your room, preparing for tonight's celebration. The victory party was going to be wild, and you knew it. You had seen how George celebrated previous wins, and tonight was going to be no different. Especially because it was his home race.

You took a deep breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. You had dressed to impress, wearing a sparkly blue dress that fit you perfectly. Finishing your look with a pair of strappy heels and a silver necklace, you couldn't help but think about how previous events with George brought you even closer together.

Your friendship kind of became more... intimate. No pun intended. Guess you were both afraid not to lose each other over the past experiences, and that deepened your bond whether either of you wanted to admit or not. Now your only fear was that your closeness wouldn't tear you apart.

A soft knock pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned around to see George standing at the door with a sheepish grin on his face. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants, his hair tousled in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he said, his voice low and husky. "Ready to party?"

Never before have you paid any mind to the nicknames he called you, but now a thrill ran down your spine. The way he looked at you made you feel like the only person in the world.

"I am," you said, smiling at him.

As you stepped out of the door, George took your hand in his and led you to the car waiting outside. The drive to the club was short, but the anticipation was high. The party was in full swing when you arrived; loud music, flashing lights, and the smell of alcohol filled the air.

George led you to the VIP section where his friends and family were already celebrating. You saw his siblings and a few of his close racing buddies. You could hear their loud cheering as they saw George walk in with you and feel the envious glares of the other women in the room.

George handed you a glass of champagne and raised his own in a toast. "To the best damn team in the world," he said, looking at you and his friends.

Everyone cheered and clinked their glasses together. You took a sip of the bubbly liquid, feeling it go down smoothly. The night was young, and the energy in the room was electric.

The party kept going on as the night deepened, and the noise of the songs blasted through the room. Glasses were filled up with drinks constantly, making it more of an effort to ignore the effects of the booze. You found yourself on the dance floor, surrounded by George and his friends. The bass of the music throbbed in your chest, and you let yourself get lost in the rhythm.

Throughout the night, each person had a chance to take their turn with you on the dance floor, and eventually you were spinning around in George's arms. The heat of the club mixed with the buzz of the alcohol made your skin flush against his. You could feel his muscles flexing as he twirled you around, his hand firmly holding onto yours. The closer you danced, the more the tension between you grew.

For a moment, you forgot where you were and who was watching. You moved on him like it was just the two of you in the world, your hands moving over his body like never before, and hips swaying in perfect synchronicity. You were so close to him that you could feel his breath on your neck, and the scent of his cologne filled your senses. You felt yourself getting lost in him, and something stirred inside you.

And it seemed like George caught up on your odd behavior as the song faded away. He grabbed your arm and started leading you away from the dance floor until you reached a quiet corner. But your drunken mind wasn't understanding his intentions.

You threw yourself onto him and he had to secure your hips with his hands to stop you from slipping. You let out a hazy chuckle as you started grinding against him once more before he pushed you back against the wall.

"Stop it, that's not why I brought you here."

But you didn't listen. You pulled yourself even closer, letting your lips brush against his neck. "Then why did you bring me here?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, your breath tickling his skin. "The drinks have gone to your head. I brought you here to take a break and cool off a little." he avoided telling you that you were drunk and not acting like yourself, afraid to provoke any unnecessary argument between you two.

Still, you weren't paying any attention. You were too inebriated to realize that your behavior was a little out of character, and you certainly weren't considering the consequences of your actions. You clasped your hands around his shoulders and pressed yourself against him again.

George tried to keep a respectable distance between you, pushing his hip backwards as you pushed yours forward, fighting the urge to get too close. That got you into an interesting position; you were leaning against the wall in between his arms with your shoulders as he leaned into you with his upper body. Your hand naughtily ran down his side, poking him. You knew you probably shouldn't touch him, but you couldn't stop yourself. His muscles strained as he let out a shaky breath.

"You're getting awfully close to me," he murmured, unable to bring himself to look you in the eye. His fingers slowly slid from their grip on the wall.

"Then don't push me away," you said back.

His face was just inches away now, and your lips unconsciously moved closer. The atmosphere between you two was thick with anticipation, a feeling that you currently relished in. Your lips were only a breath away from his when he spoke.

"We can't." his eyes locked with yours.

"Why?" you asked breathily.

"Because we're best friends." his voice was barely a whisper.

He hoped the reason he gave you would remind you of everything you asked from him that first time. But he didn't tell you that he feared you'd regret it when you sobered up, and that it would be his fault for not stopping it.

"And?" in the state that you were, did he really think that would stop you? He couldn't have been more wrong. You wanted to push him to feel something. Anything. "Best friends can do a lot of things." you smirked.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes still on yours. "No, they can't." he gritted, shaking his head.

"You're right." you said, the alcohol clouding your judgment. "They can't do this." and your hips finally met his.

He swallowed hard, trying to stay level headed. "What am I going to do with you?" he said in desperation, his hands pressed flat on the wall behind you, trying their best not to touch you as they dangerously started slipping down.

You placed your hands on his chest, feeling his heart hammering under your palms as you glided them down his torso. "Remember how you said you can read my body language?"

"Yeah," he breathed, nodding his head.

"What is it telling you now?" you whispered against his lips.

"It's telling me we're going to be in big trouble if you don't stop this," he replied. "You have no idea what you're doing to me right now."

"Then don't fight it. Show me." you murmured.

He leaned in, his lips brushing yours. Your arms snaked around his neck and fingers twined through the hair at its nape, pulling him closer. You couldn't believe that you had done all those other things, but never kissed. And when ultimately his mouth closed on yours, it was like finally locating the elusive jigsaw piece on a seemingly ordinary Tuesday while tidying up your home that you thought had been lost forever. It made you almost not want to kiss anyone else ever again — almost, because deep down you knew you shouldn't have been doing this in the first place.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his head tilted to get a better angle. The kiss was soft, tentative, like both of you were very aware of what might happen. You pressed your mouth against his more firmly, tasting him. Parting your lips slightly, you felt the silky wetness of his tongue on yours. You bit his lower lip, letting out a deep moan when he groaned in response, hands that were in his hair tugging on the strands slightly. He groaned into your mouth again, pulling you even closer against him. You had no idea how long you were kissing, but it was definitely not enough.

The kiss broke, and you leaned your face against his neck, panting heavily. He glanced down at you, his lips so close to yours that if you had merely lifted your head, they'd be touching again. The warmth emanating from your body made him want to do things he knew he shouldn’t. He placed his forehead against yours, trying desperately to get control of himself.

"We should get back." he said between breaths. Your head was spinning from the alcohol and his scent and the magical kiss, it took you a moment to realize you were no longer kissing him. You opened your eyes and met with him.

"We should, before they realize we're missing." you nodded. He frowned, but his eyes were smiling. He was relieved, but he was also worried for you and what tomorrow might bring when you sobered up.

"Lets go," he said, turning around, but kept an arm around your waist so as to not let you get lost. You looped one arm around his neck, holding onto his shoulder, and gently hit his other shoulder with your head.

The night was still young and the party was still going. Music was playing, people were dancing, and laughter filled the room. Your friends cheered when they saw you two come in together, but neither of you paid any attention to them; all that mattered was that you were here, with him. Guys grabbed drinks for the both of you from different parts of the room and put it in your hands.

You found a spot on the couch and George sat next to you, his arm around your waist protectively. The conversations flowed easily between you two, and soon enough you both forgot what had happened earlier as you joined the rest of the group in drinking, singing along with music and laughing.

He later found you on the dance floor swaying around completely out of rhythm with a drink in your hand. Your face lit up when you saw him.

"There you are, my champion." you leaned into him, dropping your head onto his shoulder.

"I won the race, not the championship.” he chuckled.

“Mm, don’t care. To me you are the champion.” you slurred, pouting.

“Hey, is everything alright?" he asked, supporting you.

"Mmhmm." you mumbled. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine." you could hear the frown on his face. "You're drunk." he spat as he attempted to take away the half empty glass from your grasp.

"I'm not." you said, feeling yourself lose your balance a little as you swayed back and forth. He put his arm around you to help you balance.

"Yes, you are. I should've taken you home the first time around." he sighed, somehow not surprised you managed to get even drunker. You were both intoxicated for that matter, it's just that George knew how to hold his liquor. And he looked to never go over his limit in case something like this happened.

"No." you tried to pull away from him.

"I'm taking you home." he tightened his grip around you, leading you out of the party. You mumbled something in response, not quite sure what you were saying.

He helped you into his car and buckled your seat belt for you, before getting in himself. He drove slowly, carefully navigating the roads while you were almost passed out in his passenger seat. Every now and then he'd take a hand off the wheel to reach over and brush your hair away from your face or wipe away a stray tear from your cheek if one escaped your eye. As he turned into your street and parked the car, your eyes fluttered open.

"Um, could you walk me to the door?" you asked.

"I was planning on it," he said, unbuckling his seat belt.

Both of your arms wrapped around his left one, holding on for support, as he walked you to your apartment. Your little nap helped clear the haze from your head, but you were still tipsy. When you reached the entrance of your flat, you propped yourself against the door and blinked up at him.

"Do you want to come inside?" inviting your best friend into your home have never before seemed more dangerous and George should've known better than to say yes.

"Do you want anything to drink?" you asked to break an awkward silence that fell among you the moment he shut the door.

Before even waiting for his answer, you made your way towards the kitchen, but he extended his arm and grabbed your waist, preventing you from moving further.

"I think we both had enough to drink tonight," he said.

"Then what do you want to do?" you whispered.

"I want to claim my prize." he must have had a few more drinks than usual at the club to summon up the courage for that sentiment.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest, the alcohol still fogging your mind but not enough to miss the implication of his words. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his intense gaze. His hand still rested on your waist, his fingers tracing small circles over the fabric of your dress.

"Is that what I am, a prize?"

"No, no." he said quickly, his eyes softening. "You're so much more than that, you know that." his hand cupped the side of your face. "When I saw you looking up at me on the podium today, I realized I couldn't have done it without you. You were the one who had been cheering me on from the sidelines all this time. You've been there for me when no one else was." he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You've been my lucky charm all these years and I want to show you how much you mean to me."

The way he was looking at you made your chest heave with a mixture of emotions. You were both under the influence, and you knew this was not the best time to make decisions, but you couldn't resist him. You leaned in and attached your lips together again, only this time with more passion, more desire. You could feel his hands running through your hair as he kissed you back, his tongue playing with yours, his body pressing against yours.

He pulled away, looking at you with a hunger you had never seen before. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

You nodded, unable to say anything. His lips crashed onto yours, hungrily claiming your mouth as his own. Your body responded to his touch, your hands roaming over his chest and tangling in his hair. He lifted you up, your legs locking around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

He laid you down gently on the mattress, his eyes never leaving yours. Climbing on top of you, his lips trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone. You moaned softly, your hands gripping tightly onto his muscular back. He pulled his lips away from you, looking into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked again.

You nodded, reaching up and pulling him back down. He gently kissed you again and you responded in kind, but he pulled away again.

"I'll stop if you tell me to." he whispered. "I don't want to do this unless you want to."

"I want to." you murmured. The alcohol may have distorted your judgment, but it surely helped your courage.

"Are you sure?" he asked a third time. You laughed softly, trying to push him off. He had you pinned to the mattress, still pressing you down.

"Yes, I'm sure." you said, no longer laughing.

That was all he needed to hear. He kissed you hard, his fingers lightly tracing over the fabric of your dress. He ran his hands underneath, gently resting them on your ribs, and pulled your dress upwards. You lifted your hands above your head, freeing him of the task of removing your dress as you squiggled out of it and freed yourself from the restriction that was your dress.

He kissed you again, letting his hands run over your bare skin. His lips kissed down your throat and chest, his hands undoing your bra. He pulled it away and tossed it aside, taking in the sight of you.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he said. You blushed, and he smiled. His lips traveled down your leg, gently caressing the outside of your thigh. "But I'm a little jealous, you know?" his lips traveled back up, his tongue tracing over the slope of your breast and hands kneading them softly. "You got to taste me, and I..."

He kissed his way down your body, his hands going over every inch of exposed skin, reminding you how skillfully he handled you that very first time. He reached your inner thigh and slid his hand underneath your underwear. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his fingers brush against you before a long finger slid inside you. You moaned loudly, spreading your legs apart for him. He smiled against your neck, his teeth taking in your skin, his tongue leaving a trail of fire behind.

His finger slowly moved inside you, circling you before sliding in and out. His hand pulled your underwear down, you kicking them off to the side. His mouth moved down your figure, hovering over your breasts. He teased you for a moment, blowing against your nipples before drawing the tip of his tongue over one. He did the same with the other, his fingers never ceasing to move. His kisses continued further down, over your stomach until they reached your mound.

"Can I?" he asked, peeking at you.

"Please..." you tried to hide the shake in your voice.

His tongue slid between your lips, gently licking you. You could feel his breath, hot and heavy against your sensitive skin. He teased you, his tongue circling your clit before sliding inside you. His tongue flicked over your clit, his hands holding your thighs apart. You spread your legs even wider, your body arching up to him. He leaned in, gently sucking on your clit and you moaned loudly, his tongue moving faster. You cried out in pleasure, your hips bucking against his face.

You were nearing your end, your moans growing louder with every movement of his tongue. You could feel his lips smile against your skin, enjoying the sounds you were making. You cried out, your body tensing as you came, shaking against him. He pulled away, slowly kissing his way up to the top again. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, not hurrying you up as you sucked in his bottom lip, squeezing out your own juices.

"Taking that trophy is the second best thing that has ever happened to me." he whispered. He kissed you again, this time with more passion, your hands reaching for the buttons of his shirt. "The first, of course, being you. You're my greatest reward." he continued as you trailed kisses down his neck, removing the shirt off his shoulders.

"Stop talking, George."

"Sorry," he whispered as he closed his eyes, surrendering above you.

You kissed his chest, your nails raking up and down his sides, feeling his muscles tense. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and could sense the urgency in his touch. His hardness pressed against you, begging to be liberated. You pulled away from him, reaching for his belt buckle and his eyes shot open, hands reaching for yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked again. He knew if you go any further there would be no going back and some irreversible things would be done.

"Are you sure?" you asked back, smiling mischievously. "I thought this is what you wanted." your nail dangerously circled around his lower abdomen, causing his breath to hitch with every word he spoke.

"I-I do. I'm just making sure you're not doing it just because I want it." you could tell he was really struggling to hold himself back.

"I think we've already established that..." you whispered against his lips and prompted your body more to his.

"Okay," his hand moved away from yours, and you undid his belt.

His pants fell around his feet and he kicked them off. His boxers were the last thing left, and you reached for them, slowly pulling them down. His hand held the back of your head as he kissed you, his tongue twirling around yours. You moved to pull away but he held on tighter.

His boxers hit the floor and you looked up at him, his hands resting on your frame. Gently taking your hand, he placed it on his dick. You gasped, feeling it grow even more underneath your touch. He pulled away, his lips planting kisses down your neck as his hand guided yours up and down his length. You felt him shiver as you grazed the tip with your nails, his breath hitching. He removed his hand, and your eyes shot open when you felt his tip brush against your entrance.

He teased you, running it up and down your slit. You threw your head back in pleasure, your back arching against him. The more he prolonged what you needed the most, the more your neediness grew. You tried to guide him inside you but he resisted, placing a finger on your lips instead. He dragged it over them before he made you suck on it, his eyes never leaving your face as he blew a stream of air out. Your eyes widened when you felt his head brush against you again, making you gasp audibly, his name falling from your lips.

"Please," you remembered what he told you the first time he had you in his arms like this. "Please, please, please, please, please, please, please..." you chanted over and over again.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath. Hearing you beg for him made his head spin again. It was like you'd put him under a spell every time you'd utter that word and he'd not be able to deny you anything. Not that he ever wanted.

He slowly pushed inside of you, stopping at every inch to wait for you to adjust. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

You nodded, your breath hitching as he began to move again. He kissed you, your nails digging into his back as he stretched you more. He was so gentle, it was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. This was not the normal rough, lustful sex. This was the man who loved the sight of you, the sounds of your pleasure. This was the man who wanted to make love to you, to show you what true pleasure was.

Your fingers sank into his back again, and he responded by thrusting into you harder, your moans getting louder. His lips traveled down your chest, his tongue flicking a nipple as he pushed into you again.

"Oh, god." you moaned, George's name falling from your mouth repeatedly. Your hands dug into the sheets as his thrusts grew harder, deeper.

"You feel so good... so damn good," he kissed your skin. "Making me feel like I don't ever want to take anybody else again."

"Don't stop, please, whatever it is that you're doing, please, just don't stop." you cried, twining your legs around him to press him deeper.

He moaned in pleasure when you did, his hands tightening their grip around you. His breathing grew heavier and faster, your bodies reacting to each other. He was so close, and he could feel you held right on the edge.

You cried out his name, your form shuddering under him. He had no intention of stopping, and he continued his movements as you kept shaking, your voice loud enough to wake up the whole apartment complex.

"You, George, only you…" you whispered into his ear as you were coming down.

You felt his whole build shake, his cock pulsing inside of you, but it wasn't enough. You wanted to hear him as he climaxed. You wanted to hear the sounds he made, the sweetest song in the world.

"George… George…" you panted, your breathing coming out in jagged breaths.

He cursed, as his body trembled with pleasure. His hands tightened around you, pulling you closer as he came. You buried your face in his neck, your fingers playing with his hair. He kissed you, holding you close to him. He wanted to stay inside you forever, to feel the sight of your face as he pleased you. You did that to him. You were the one making him see another reality where only he and you existed.

But he pulled away, your eyes searching for his as you slowly came back to reality. He kissed you again, his lips landing on yours.

"That was amazing… you were amazing…" he whispered, stroking your face gently.

"So were you." you said back, playing with the bangs that fell over his forehead.

He rested his head on your chest, finding a comfortable spot, your hands moving into his hair.

"Are you going to stay?" you whispered, uncertain.

"Only if you want me to."

"Always."

He hugged you tightly and rolled over so that you were now on top of him. His fingers softly ran along your back as your body let go and fully relaxed. The peaceful sound of your heartbeats and his breath seemed to take over the room. You drew near to him, feeling the up and down movements of his chest gently rock you to sleep, matters of your friendship left for tomorrow's morning news.

Next part

2K notes · View notes

kushnovice · 17 days

Text

Be Mine Again

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x ex! reader

Synopsis: Reader and Bucky have been broken up for a short time, fighting often and rarely seeing eye to eye. Bucky starts to fall into a bad mental space while a mission goes wrong.

wc: 2.8k

Warnings: fighting of all kinds, bucky being depressed and cold, angsty at the beginning, blood, choking, Zola being sadistic, not the best. if i made any mistakes please lmk :)

AN: Female reader, angst with little comfort (yet), lots of mistakes, self indulgent, it sucks but i had fun making it so i hope some people enjoy it. if so I'll write a part 2

"I broke my rules for you! I bended my morals for you, again! I had to change everything I believe in, yet again!" She yelled out at the tall and broad man in front of her as his hand tightened against his glass of ice water, jaw clenching.

The kitchen of the Avengers Tower was very cold and filled with tense air, thick enough to cut with a knife. Bucky deeply groaned as he placed his glass onto the table with a loud thud, "I never asked you to do that. I never asked you to care about me, you did that all yourself." Bucky's hand ran up into his hair showing how stressed out he is at the moment, he had never been one to enjoy fighting, actually he hated it. Almost as much as he hated her."Don't you care about me? About us?" She questioned with a huff as her arms swung to her hips. "Truth is," Bucky stood up, slowly walking toward her with each word, "I'm tired. So fucking tired of you that you always have been nothing more than an obligation." Bucky's lip raised in a scowl. The hurt was written on her face but immediately gone as she grumbled and pushed Bucky back by the chest. "I'm done helping you." She sucked in a breath, "Did it ever occur to you that your hurting me or are you just that selfish and arrogant?"

Before she could react, his glass that was once on the table was now shattering against the wall on the far side of the room as he stormed off quickly, slamming the door shut in the process. Bucky made his way through the winding hallways with his fists clenched tightly to the point his knuckles were white. He couldn't stand when she would act like this, after everything they had been through together, she had promised she would stay no matter what. She was always just like the others, except Bucky couldn't get her out of his mind.

Bucky swings open Steve's door and slams it behind him as he paces back and forth through Steve's room. Steve sighed as he placed his book to the side on his bed and looked at Bucky. "What happened this time?" Bucky groaned deeply, "I told her about the mission we are going on later this week and she flipped out on me." He grabbed a workout dumbbell off the ground and started to work out his human arm by doing bicep curls. "She keeps telling me that she can't deal with me trying to track down and kill every single person that was ever or is currently apart of Hydra, that this mission we are going on is a trap." His breath becomes uneven as says breathy words under his tongue as his annoyed attitude has not faltered in the slightest. Steve rolled his eyes at the drama going on between the not so couple right now. "You do realize that she's scared of losing you, especially more since she's already lost you as a partner." Steve sighed deeply, being the person that both of them had come to confide in about their problems. "And with the Hydra thing, it's tricky because I know you want to move past it, and it was such a hard time of your life but there are better ways to grow past it, Buck." Steve talked softly as his kind blue eyes pierced through Bucky, hoping he would accept his words of advice but seeing how Bucky was instantly throwing the weight around as if it weighed nothing due to his anger, Steve knew Bucky wasn't truly hearing him.

Bucky dropped the weight at Steve's words, "Better ways, huh. there're better ways for everything but does that mean it's always achievable? No." Bucky looked at Steve almost desperately, "I don't want to lose her but if I don't do this, I feel like I might lose myself." Bucky sighed as he looked at the weight on the ground before picking it back up again. "What's rule number 3, Buck?" Steve asks knowing how Bucky's rage and trauma is having a profound impact on his own mental health. "What would they think about you after you murder them all?" Steve questions, knowing that if Bucky were to kill them then people would believe that Bucky was the Winter Solider still, or just a cold killer."Who cares, they took everything from me. They took me away from myself." Bucky stormed out of Steve's room in frustration and made his way to his room with loud footsteps as he carried his empty duffle bag.

Bucky's mind was whirling with angry thoughts about how no one understands him and the one person that did, was no longer a happy part of his life. He angrily shoves his clothes and weapons as well as his dog tags and anything else he would need into his duffle bag. Bucky fit everything he needed perfectly into his duffle bag and sat it by the door before he slouched down onto his bed. He rubbed his temple as he exhaled a deep sigh, wishing he could understand life like he did back in the 40's.

"If you feel it so necessary to risk your life so that you can battle an internal fight, then I'm coming too." She swung the door open as she placed down her duffle bag with confidence and stubbornness. Bucky groaned and ran his hands through his hair again, stressed out, knowing that she won't back down. "If you keep doing that, you'll go bald before you're ancient." She giggled snarky as Bucky narrowed his eyes at her seriously. "If you're coming, you're staying in the plane. Eyes in the sky." She rolled her eyes but stayed silent knowing that putting up another fight was worthless.

They made their way to the airplane with slow steps as the tension around them stayed present even in the silence as they walked feet from each other. Bucky's eyes were unable to focus on anything other than her, her hair, her body, her clothes, the way she held herself. He knew he shouldn't think about her like this after their no so soft break up but he couldn't help himself. He was snapped out of it when Steve talked to him on the plane, "Buck, why is she joining us?" He asked as he looked at her getting comfortable in a seat on the plane as if it was her mission to be on. Bucky sighed, "I didn't want to fight her anymore. She will stay on the plane the whole time." Steve nodded in understanding, "We got this." Bucky chuckled, "As long as you don't blow the whole thing trying to 'save the world'" Steve chuckled along with him. The plane ride was silent as they quickly made it to the main hydra headquarters with Steve occasionally talking about the mission and the plan.

When they arrive at the place, Steve and Bucky easily jump out of the plane, landing exactly where they needed too to be at the top of the Hydra roof. She got comfortable on the plane with the coms on, cameras on, and trackers on but she couldn't settle the anxiety creeping up her spine. She tried to push it down as she figured that since she was watching and listening to them and that nothing would go wrong. That's what she had wished for, but not all dreams come true.

After the two men had entered the building, an alarm went off causing the rooms to blare nosies and lights to shine red and white in an emergency. They quickly move to the wall, Bucky had his gun up as his eyes glared through the top of the barrel with intense focus as he lead them through the hallway while Steve had his shield up as well as his arm to help brace himself for any situation that could happen. The lights continued to strobe with the blaring alarm as they swiftly and quietly made their way through the headquarters. As Bucky rounded a corner, there was a Hydra solider waiting for them. He fired his gun quickly multiple times causing bullets to go into his shoulder, his arm, and his stomach. Steve quickly threw his shield at the Hydra solider causing him to go unconscious and drop to the floor with a thud. "Buck?" Steve turnt around quickly as he grabbed Bucky's shoulders to help him stay up as he is loosing a lot of blood.

"What's going on?" She asked through the coms as the anxiety in her stomach started to bubble up yet again. "Why aren't you guys moving?" She impatiently waited for an answer as she tapped her fingertips against the desk, staring at the screen of their tracker and trying to find them on the camera system. "Everything's fine," Bucky growls out in a snap. Over the coms she can hear Steve groan, "Bucky got hit, three times." he explains to her and while his words are processing, her heart beat increases dramatically. "I'm fine." Bucky growled out as he continued to make his way down the hallway with Steve closely behind him. She watches as the dots move slowly down the hallway on the tracker, Her anxiety roaring.

Suddenly the screen starts to glitch out, becoming unreadable entirely. She began to panic internally as she starts to talk on the coms, "what's goin' on?" She asks to no response but loud sounds like a frequency is blocking communication. She groans deeply as her anxiety is coming up through her stomach and settling at her chest as she makes her way up and slings a gun around her torso to make her way out of the plane which is now landed at the waiting point. She runs through the clearing and gets to the door, trying to open it to no avail, she uses her body weight next to slam against the door, again to no avail. Sounds of yelling and screaming stop her in her tracks as the anxiety now feels like an elephant sitting on her chest. Looking around, she spot a window and she uses the back gun barrel to break the glass, making sure it's safe before she climbs inside. When she gets inside it is dark and eerily quiet, she cautiously take slow and soft steps and she keeps her gun up on guard as she search's for Steve and Bucky. She shoves open a door which reveals a pitch dark room, She is hesitant to go in until She hears Bucky whimpering in the darkness. She quickly makes her way inside, "Buck?" She whispered as the door shuts behind her, she hears the door click causing her to turn back to the door to see someone outside the door flick the lights on to reveal Bucky on the ground bleeding out from multiple injuries, she ran up to him immediately.

"Oh Buck..." She sighed deeply and she glare up at the person behind the door. The mysterious person presses a button with a smirk before they turn and makes their way out of eyesight from her. She hears a hissing sound causing her to look up to see a gas coming out of a huge vent in the room, the barley visible smoke filling the floor as it causes Bucky to cough an incredible amount and making his injuries worse. The smoke filled the room and eventually her lungs as she can feel the smoke burning her airway. She coughs violently in sync with Bucky, trying to stay conscious and aware but it becomes more challenging as the world starts spinning and her eyes get heavier. Bucky suddenly stops coughing causing her to know that he fell victim to the gas, she tried to fight it as long as possible as she held herself up against a table but still inevitably fail as she fell to the ground with a loud thud as she went unconscious.

When she woke up, everything was groggy and the room is spinning and her chest feels heavy with more than just anxiety. She groaned out in pain when she turn to look around to see her hands and legs tied up to the arms and legs of a chair while she was also tied around the torso. Turning her head, she saw Bucky sitting there tied up the same as her, him still unconscious though. "Bucky!" She whisper shouted trying to get him awake, whispering his name loudly multiple times in hopes of him waking up. "Bu-" She gets interrupted by the sound of a door opening causing her to fall silent as she watches the darkness to see someone emerge from it. "Well, Well, Well. Look what we have here. The world's most dangerous assassin..." The person walks towards us to reveal its Zola dressed in his white coat. "And his little toy." Zola smirks at us. "What do you want with us? Bucky isn't under your control anymore." She speaks deeply and firmly even through the anxiety and fear that is ever so present. Zola chuckles at her question as he leans down and grabs Bucky's unconscious face, holding his face up by the chin, his fingernails digging into Bucky's cheek, leaving red to glow off of Bucky's face. "I want him." Zola lets Bucky's face go with no regard for him. His head falls back down as Zola shifts his attention back to her. "I can't have him with you around. With you here. He has something to fight for." Zola leaned in close enough to her face that she could smell him the smell of rubber and overpriced Calonge on his body, he smelt like fake money. "I'm going to make him lose everything. Anything he loved or ever will love in the future, I will destroy."

Zola pushed some of the hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear, "And that starts with you, Darling." Zola had a maniacal smile on, his twisted face that contorted the anxiety in her stomach from anxiety into fear and anger. Her anxiety and fear had instantly turned into rage as Zola kept speaking, her jaw clenching and veins popping out of her neck and forehead. "I'll kill you." Her voice growls deeply with hatred as she struggled against the restraints roughly with harsh movements. Zola couldn't help the chuckle that escapes his lip. "Or you'll die trying, sweetheart." He exclaimed with a smirk on his face, "You'll be fun to play with." Zola runs his fingers softly down her face as she holds a scowl and her eyes bore into him with rage.

A soft voice croaks out, "Don't touch her..." Bucky's horse and rough voice speaks out as he raises his head to assess the situation as the gas wears off. Zola smirked as he trailed his fingers down her face and down her jawline and to her throat where he roughly grabs it with a tight grasp causing her to gasp out at a loss for air. "You take orders, Soldat. You don't give them." Zola says as his dark eyes meet Bucky's whose eyes are dark and cold, his glare unwavering as his jaw clenched. Bucky thrashes around in the restraints, easily breaking out as he saw you under Zola hold, anger filling his body with red heat as he stands up in front of Zola, dark eyes that would send shivers down the body of a normal person. "Let. Her. Go." Bucky's rough voices speaks out firmly as he towers over Zola, he smirks as he lets go of her but reaches into his pocket and injects Bucky with a syringe causing Bucky to be disoriented and out of it as he stumbles backwards. "Stay away from her!" He yells in frustration as he tries to move close to her despite the drugs and ultimately failing.

"Bucky! Stop trying to save me. They want you." She speaks out firmly through her coughs and deep breaths. Bucky growled at her statement, "I will never stop fighting for you, defending you, protecting you. Over my dead body will I let you get hurt." Bucky's deep voiced traveled through the room as it sent shivers down her body. Zola moved to Bucky, grabbing him by the back of the neck like a kitten and forces him down to the ground as he digs Bucky's head into the ground before quickly chaining him up, Bucky being easier to restrain with the drugs in his system. Zola squatted down to make eye contact with Bucky, his eyes digging into Bucky's with determination. "I will destroy you. You'll be mine again."

#bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader comfort #bucky x y/n #bucky reader insert #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #i'm feral for this man

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websterss · 9 months

Text

LOVEBUG — COLE WALTER

REQUEST: Can I do a request for Cole Walter where he and the reader are about to sleep together for the first but she figures that he just will hook up with her and go back to Erin. But he actually has feelings for her and he found out it is her first time ever so he makes sure to tell her that he actually has feelings for her. (Some mature content if you’re cool with that)😏

WARNING(S): Angst, fluff, only indication of smut at the end, no actual smut.

WORD COUNT: 2,804

PAIRING: Cole Walter x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! Also, I don't do taglists any more guys!

MASTERLIST

If there was one thing you couldn’t let go of it was trying and not being able to have a conversation with Cole. You found it difficult since he had been avoiding you like the plague. He’d brush past your shoulder in the halls, and if you locked eyes in public he was already walking the other way. Your friendship has been one for the history books. A long-lasting friendship since elementary, but you wondered when and if your bond was soon to expire. You wanted to keep trying though because trying meant you wouldn’t have to lose Cole for good.

You had had your doubts the second Katherine had invited you to attend Haley and Will’s wedding. Your doubts clouded your mind as you felt your presence and attendance would cause a great deal of stress or frustration for Cole. Seeing as how he didn’t want to talk to you, you did your best to stay far away, sit far, but even then you watched as he left in the middle of the dancing. Heading towards the barn. You had wished you had gone after him sooner, but you waited, waited till everyone was asleep. Anxiety was all you felt as you faced his workshop shed. The light was on indicating that he was in there but if it hadn’t been for the banging and clanging of tools against metal you would have assumed otherwise. It was only one foot after the other. You thought to yourself. Some part of you told you to run and turn, but he was alone and in his element, this would have to be your only time to get your chance. You had to be brave, and strong, but you were not at the moment so you went head first, heart second. You had opened the door and made your way inside. You complicated whether to make your presence known but it ended up being one hesitant knock followed by two certain ones. You had barely made your way into the area before his voice made you halt in your tracks.

“Didn’t expect you to be hanging around still. It’s late, shouldn't you be on your way home by now?”

“H-How’d you know it was me?” You gape at him like a fish out of water, not having expected him to speak first.

“You’re the only person I know that knocks after walking into a room.” He continued to twist a bolt. “Plus you do things in threes.”

You gaped at him. “No, I don’t.”

You watched as he turned his eyes towards you, a shit-eating grin on his eyes as he leaned to his left. His hand curls into a fist as he reenacts your entrance. Tapping against the metal for effect.

One… two three.

“Three times.” He smirked, raising his left brow. You wanted to slap him then and there.

“Didn’t peg you as the type to pay attention to things like that?”

“Like what? Like how you scrunch your nose and close your eyes when the sun is in your face, and continue to have a conversation like that. Or how you like to listen instead of speaking when you’re in a group. It's just how observant you are. Or how you do things like knock three times after entering a room.” He chuckles, pointing and mocking where you entered. “Or how you don’t ask or expect anything from anyone because you feel like you’re being a burden. Which you’re not. Or how you go out of your way to help others so much, even though some people don’t deserve to be blessed by your kindness. Or how you prefer bikes to cars cause it means you're helping out the planet a little bit more. Or how you prefer Custard instead of Murphy now because when we were younger Alex said you’d be fine riding him…but then you fell off and you got hurt, and it took a long time to get you to trust us again, and get you back on a saddle. Or… how you’ve been nothing but sweet to me when all I’ve done is treat you like shit.” He slams the hood of his truck down causing you to flinch. Regret fills him instantly. “Or…how you hate loud noises because it reminds you of all the yelling that happens at home.” If your heart could stop you’d have collapsed dead on the floor before him. But it hadn’t, it only skipped and increased in speed because you never thought he'd be so attentive to you.

“Still don’t peg me as the type to pay attention to things now?” He opened his arms out and gave a tight-lipped grin.

“What happened to us?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He brushes past you like he’s done so time after time again. He walked over to his work table looking for a torque wrench knowing the one he needed was over by the truck in his toolbox. He just couldn’t face you right now.

“Cole…will you look at me, please? I’ve been trying to talk to you for months now and-“

“Have you seen my torque wrench anywhere I can’t find it?” He cut you off.

“Cole, I’m serious, if you’d just give me a second-“

“Can we not do this tonight? I need to work on the truck okay? It needed more work after it broke down on me and Jackie the other day and I’d appreciate it if you-“

“Can you just look at me for once, dammit!” You walk over and bang your fist on the hood and flinch. You see his side profile first before his body follows, he raises a brow at you unimpressed.

“On my truck.” He gestures to where your fist rests.

“I have been trying and trying for so long now to get your attention. To talk to you.” You run your hands down your face. “Because I miss you…” You gesture an open hand to him. “I miss my best friend. I miss wanting to know how your day is going or if your knee has been hurting, but I can’t do those things because you don’t give me the time of day.”

“I’ve been busy…” He shrugs.

“Busy right? Yeah, I know what you've been up to.” You close your eyes. “Look Cole, I don’t know if I’ve done anything to make you want to avoid me but if I have then I’m sorry.” You let your head hang forward. “I don’t know what to do anymore…” You hear him before you feel his hands touch your skin gently. In a soft gentle caress, you can’t help but lean into his palm. “I’m sorry…”

“Hey, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. I’ve been a jerk okay…I've been a shit friend and an even shit brother, but I’m working on it. I am. Things will be different. Okay, if my speech was anything to go off of, I meant every second of it. Meeting your person…When I met you, nothing, nothing else mattered to me. I should’ve realized it sooner too but when do I pay attention to you.” He joked slightly, causing you to roll your eyes. “I should've held you closer because as my mother likes to remind me constantly. You’re good for me, to me, and way out of my league…” Cole laughed lightly. “I guess what I’m trying to get at is I’m sorry…for everything. I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven for the way I’ve treated you.”

“You don’t.” Cole retreats his hands from your face. Accepting that as your final word. He’d have walked off with a nod if you hadn’t given him the sweet smile he loves seeing on you. “It’s a good thing I forgave you two days ago then..”

“Wait what?”

“Thanks for fixing my bike by the way.”

He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “How did you know about that?”

“I had to take Luna to the vet since she got out the night before, she came back with a limp, but that’s a story for another time. Anyway, your mom and I chatted and she assumed we were on good terms again and asked if you had given me my bike back yet. It didn't take long to put two and two together. That and I’ve been missing my bike for a week now.”

“Can’t trust her now.” He joked.

“When did you even take it?” You shook your head.

“When did you start asking people for rides again?” He raised a brow at you but laughed as you went to playfully smack him for he was the reason for your lack of transportation. “I was driving the boys home from school when I saw you one day kneeling beside your bike. I wasn’t spying by the way, I just happened to see you in all your damsel ness…” He dragged out the s.

“Right…” You squint your eyes at him in amusement.

“I figured it could’ve been the chain since you complained about it falling out one time, so it was either that or the tires finally gave out because let’s face it, sweetheart, that thing was ancient.” He started walking backwards with a smirk. “It was supposed to be a surprise but I guess now is as good of a time as any.” He grabbed a hold of the sheet that covered it and yanked it off.

Your heart did stop then and there. You gasped quietly as a cherry red bike was presented before you. Cole rolled it over in front of you before pulling down the support lever. Though it had been the basket with a pink bow on it that caught your attention. It was beautiful.

“You fixed it.” You reached a hand out to touch it but left it hanging mid-air. Too scared to ruin it. Break it. “And…painted it?” You raised a confused brow at him.

“No. I got you a new one.” He grinned sheepishly as you looked up at him in shock. “The basket was a personal touch I added to it though. I thought you could use something to carry your backpack and books, and the flowers you deliver on Wednesdays. You’ve always carried your bag on your back so I thought this could help take that heavy weight off your shoulders.”

“Cole…T-This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you…” His heart swelled as you flashed him a smile. You looked back to the bike…thinking he must’ve spent his paycheck on it. You couldn’t believe he’d done such a thing for you.

“You’re welcome bug.” He nodded. “You deserve something nice. Plus your old bike was on its last limb. That and I thought it’d be good for me to get some exercise in. Work the leg out some more ya know. Believe it or not, I don’t remember the last time I ever rode a bike.” He chuckled.

"Bug...You haven't called me that in a long time."

"It's my name for you..."

"Yeah, I know it is..." You mutter softly. You thought about the name for a second before your brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait if you got me a new one…What did you do with the old bike?”

“Ah thought you’d never ask. I fixed it.” He jogged back over to the corner. Rolling over the old rusted red one out. He swung a leg over the seat. “Thought you can use the company on Wednesdays.”

“Keep me company huh?”

“Yeah, I think it’s time I find a new hobby.”

“Sulking bored you out.”

“Among other things…” He shrugs. “I want things to be different.” He cleared his throat and held your gaze.

“I’m happy for you Cole.” You nodded.

“Anyway…Let’s test this bad boy.” He pedaled out a few feet then you both watched and heard as the clank of the chain fell out. It lay on the floor. You looked up in time to meet his gaze. You had to cover your mouth to keep you from laughing.

“Thought you said you fixed it.”

“Yeah…The chain won’t stay. So expect a lot of stopping when we go out on them.” He gave a sheepish grin.

“You took the old one.” You stated. Turning back to your new one with a new sense of warmth and longing.

“You were due for a new one. No way I could keep letting you ride this thing. I mean, look at it!” He judged the rusted two-wheeler.

“Hey don’t make fun. She held out for as long as she could.”

His eyes flickered onto you, lingering on your eyes a little longer before he let his eyes roam to your heels, up to where your dress ended, then his eyes raked back up to your pouty lips. The accidental double entendre wasn’t lost on him. You had held out for him as long as you could too and he’d been nothing but an ass.

“Yeah, she sure did…” He nodded slightly. You hold his gaze for a bit longer then look away.

“For what it's worth. I appreciate you doing this for me.” You grew closer to him, a timid stance as you fiddled with your already chipping nail paint. “I don’t think I can show you just how thankful I am, but all I got is this.” You exhaled, then leaned over to press a kiss against the side of his cheek. Cole closed his eyes wanting the touch of your lips to linger on him a bit longer. You pulled away the slightest, your eyes flickering down to his lips before you averted your gaze. Cole’s chest rose and fell at the sudden change in the atmosphere. He often wondered what your lips pressed against his felt like. Thoughts and questions he probably shouldn’t have had like what did you taste like? What noises he could get out of you. He was hungry for your touch, and he wasn’t about to ruin the opportunity to do the one thing he longed for.

You watched as he stood up from the bike, letting it lean on the support bar. You took a step back as he closed the distance between you two. His hand reached up to find its place again against your cheeks. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” Your breath hitched at his words. “Let me know if you’d like me to stop.”

“Okay…” You had closed your eyes shut as you waited for him to lean in. It was the barely-there brush of his lips that had you gasping for air. It was the effect he had on you. When he was sure you wouldn’t pull away from him, he slid his hand underneath your jaw holding you there as he walked you both to his work table. The wood had met you back as he knelt to pick you up. Your hands slid over and into his locks. Tugging him closer to you as he stood in between your thighs.

“Say the word…” He pulled away from your lips kissing down your jaw, onto your neck. “And I’ll stop.” He breathed out as he took note of each sigh of contentment you let out.

“D-Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” You lifted his chin to have him look at you once more. You curled a hand into his hair and crashed your lips onto his.

“I won’t stop then.” He pecked your lips, pulling back in a teasing manner. You grabbed both sides of his face to press your mouths together, having enough of his playfulness. You just wanted him then and there. You knew you were in for a long evening hearing him unzip his slacks. His belt buckle following next.

“P-Promise this isn’t just a one-time thing. That this won’t be like Erin or any of the other girls you’ve been with. That you won’t leave after this. This is my first time after all.”

“Is that what’s worrying you?” He leaned in and pecked your lips sweetly.

“Would you be upset if it was?”

“No. Thank you for being open and honest about your concerns to me. But I promise you this time it's different, with you it’s different. I feel something when I’m with you, and I don’t want to find out what my life will be like if you aren’t in it any time soon, but as long as you’re game. I’m in this for the long run.”

“I thought Cole Walter didn’t do relationships…” Cole knew you were only kidding by the teasing in your tone.

“Yeah well that Cole didn’t know what love felt like until he met you.”

“You love me?” You grin feeling that warmth spread over your heart once more.

“I love you.” He nodded certainly.

#cole walter #cole walter x reader #cole walter x fem!reader #cole walter imagines #cole walter oneshot #mlwtwb imagines #mlwtwb #my life witih the walter boys imagines #my gif #writings by juls

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acid-ixx · 3 months

Note

Now that someone mentioned Connor as a possible love interest I think he will be a good choice. He obviously feels a similar kind of anger at his own father(s) so they could connect thanks to it. And his super hearing and other abilities will make it possible for him to always know when something is wrong with reader. I see reader being in shock that someone wants to be there for them and dismissing any yandere tendencies, toxic traits in favour of keeping Connors attention. Not like they could loose it no matter what they do, Connor is to obsessed and I could see him being dependent on his darling.

a/n: since i am more familiar with the animated series (young justice) for conner kent and i feel your ask is describing his version so i'm basing it off of him! but yes you are so fr in this. i will never not go too far when it comes to rambling, i love long asks hehe.

it was temporarily stated in chapter one that you had your momentary bouts of anger and that in itself already paved its way into conner's heart because of course most would be put off with the rage that he kindles within. you two would really be some sort of match made in heaven— it's like you deeply understand the intensity of his emotion, and you both share that bond nobody could deter; it being anger towards your parent/s and the inability to be accepted or nor noticed/your feelings being invalidated most of the time.

but because of the level of power between you, you being human and him literally being a carbon copy of superman, conner would be incredibly overprotective and possessive of you. and i'm not just implying that he would give anyone within a fifty mile radius a death glare, no, you would literally be glued to his figure all the time.

that means a hand on either your shoulders, your waist, or hips. if you were the shy type, then expect him always holding your hands or wrist. but if you don't mind the weird display of pda, then you'll be lucky enough to have the rights to smother your face in his chest whenever and wherever— sometimes that would even be his go signal to tell anybody off whenever you feel the slightest bit of discomfort.

but other than the advantages of being with him (protective guard dog 24/7), you would pretty much lose every sense of independence nor privacy. which isn't losing much since you already have your mad family on your tail constantly tracking you down and probably a huge bounty on your head— but at least you have your boyfriend with you, right?

with the lack of attention you were given to as a child, one given willingly without the need to ask for is basically a heaven for you. and with his powers? babe, you don't even need to ask for him to take you away to somewhere safer because he could already hear your heartbeats thumping louder and louder.

speaking of superhearing; a way to calm your boyfriend down quickly and efficiently would be laying his head on your chest. you'd probably discover the method later on your relationship, but as much as conner loves to hear your heartbeats from any distance, he loves it all the more when the only barrier that keeps him away from your beating heart would be your skin and your ribcage.

since conner was raised with the lack of physical contact and he's the type to push people away, your physical affection towards him is something he doesn't even know he craves, not until he tastes it for himself.

you wouldn't even feel the need to tell creeps off anymore! because conner is out there intimidating every person who dares to show the slightest bit of romantic intentions towards you.

so really, is it so bad if he wants you all for himself?

you both eventually gain a codependent relationship with each other— but it's not like any of you would leave each other wanting for more, because you both are more than enough for each other.

and conner thinks it's better off if it would only be the two of you in this world.

screw your family.

#🍨... yael's talking #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere superboy #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #romantic yandere #yandere connor kent #yandere connor kent x reader #yandere conner kent #yandere conner kent x reader

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steviewashere · 10 months

Text

Kiss and Tell

(Can be found on ao3)

Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing

Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3

-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.

It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.

The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.

He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.

And it would be fine—if—he wasn't close to losing his life every year. Where he has to listen to everybody and the important tiny details and the plans and the reasons for what they're doing. Which leads him to danger. Which gives him a bruised face. Which makes the listening even harder, once the concussion leaves and he's just got the leftover damage of his quirkiness.

It would be fine—if—he wasn't made to feel so stupid for what he must do. The jabs and the constant reminders and the...yeah, his sob story.

But there was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who he could keep up with. Because they'd talk about the same things over and over, until he could practically relay all the information, pulled straight from the deep crevices of his brain, and it ends up that they had forgotten, rather than him.

And there was Nancy Wheeler, who was polite enough to repeat things. Who had flash cards and a soft, focusing voice. It was easy to write off looking at her lips. "Eyes up here, Steve," she'd say. "Sorry," he'd respond sheepishly, "getting lost." And he'd chuckle and she'd giggle and then they'd kiss a little and he wouldn't be reminded that he's just a little weird. That, maybe, he just isn't normal.

Robin Buckley makes things easy-ish. She talks fast. And a lot. And she never looks him in the eyes, unless she's asking for a very serious favor, or he has something on his face, or she just feels the need (she claims it's that she hasn't looked in a while, but he shrugs her off every time). (If he can get away with staring at her lips, then she can get away with never looking him in the eyes.) He's mentioned, though, that he has a hard time following her sometimes. That he needs the words repeated a few times. Explained the lip thing, with a tense voice and a quake in his chest and his fingers tapping at the sides of his thighs. And, for a brief moment, he had felt like a creep. Like one of those weirdos that preys on the idea of women kissing. And he wanted to open up Family Video's register, shove his head inside, and sort himself out into the container of fives. But she shrugged, said "Okay," and went back on some ramble, to which he was immediately drawn to her mouth. And saw her repeat the name, Vickie, at least twenty times. He grinned and then when the store was empty, he leaned across the counter and teasingly said, "You have a big fat crush on Vickie, don't you?" To say that he was proud of her sputtering is an understatement.

Now, Dustin and the others were harder to get through. Because they moved at their own pace. And they don't really stop to add him to the conversation. He gets it, to an extent. He knows that he's not really all that intrigued in what they enjoy. (Even if he really leans into the conversation when they mention Sherlock Holmes or Dracula or Star Wars or, even, Star Trek. And he pretends to not be interested in their science fair projects. Or the one time he caught them huddled around a Sports Illustrated, in which he fought the urge to chat their ears off about both baseball and basketball statistics.) But there's a point in the conversations where he's made to feel a little dumb; even if he was staring where they were speaking, but they always grow frustrated, a huff of air released, when they notice he's not "paying attention" (translation: looking them in the eyes. "Because, Steve, it's just talking etiquette!" Dustin had shouted once).

He loves all of them anyway. Even if he misses words. And he loses track of what they were saying. He just wishes they were a little bit more forgivable about it at the end of the day.

Then, Eddie Munson is walking along side him in an alternate universe. He's peeled the vest off his back and chucked it at Steve. And they're talking. Jealous of one another, but talking. But, Eddie's voice goes soft and quiet, his eyes pointing towards Nancy's back.

Steve is looking at Nancy, words fading into the background. And it's not a moment of realization. Or a moment of longing. Yearning, what say you. No—it's one of his moments in which he's "listening," but not processing. So he looks back. And for a mere second, Eddie's eyes are big where Steve stares. Big and wet and curious. Big and wet and persuasive. Big and wet and not at all his lips and Steve is still not listening.

But his lips. Well, Steve's seen lips. These are pretty. They're pink. Chapped and bitten and plush appearing. Mesmerizing. Stretching over Eddie's sharp teeth, exposing dimples and smile lines, making his recent stubble more noticeable than it's ever been before. But his lips are pretty.

Like girls lips, Steve muses. Not really taking in what that means. Because Eddie's saying something about true love. And—shit—okay. Steve can get behind an act of true love. He can get behind sharing denim and coating Eddie's clothes in blood and staring down his lips and—god, his eyes, Steve can't help but notice once more.

Eddie's like a vulnerable cow. With pretty lips, he has to point out. Or a baby deer. With such pretty lips. And he's talking and Steve's finally listening. But it's not just processing. No, Steve's intrigued, interested even. He tilts his head like a curious puppy. Leaning in. Eddie's breath ghosts the tip of his nose. And, sure, it's a little rank. But weirdly sweet. Warm where Steve is otherwise cold. Warm in places Steve's never considered to feel warm in, but he's willing to give in, to wrap up in whatever Eddie has to say. If it all means more of him.

So, it makes sense that after all that they go through, Steve finds himself in Eddie's orbit. As a friend. As a trauma bond. As everything Eddie needs him to be.

He sits on the Munson's couch. On the cushion that dips a little too low. The lights orange and dim and casting beautiful streaks of almost candle light on Eddie's soft, beautiful features. Highlighting where his nose is the most bulbous. His pronounced Cupid's bow. The outer edges of his irises, golden and honey against the off-white of his scleras.

Eddie talks like Robin does. Excited. A lot. Fast. But his voice is soft, focused on the information—like Nancy's. It's teasing, like Dustin's. Soft, though. So gentle. Murmured. Which makes sense, if Steve were to stop and think about it for just a moment. With how late it is. With the little amount of weed they smoked. And it all just fits, with how slow and careful Eddie's lips move. As if testing the words. As if searching for what he means.

But, god, Steve is following along. Of course he is. Hanging onto each one of Eddie's words.

"So, the cashier at the record store got all apprehensive about selling me this tape. Which, I guess makes sense because it's a special edition. Comes with a photo card or whatever, but like—Come on, y'know? If he wanted it so bad, he should'a bought it the moment it dropped. Not my fault he slacks on not just his job, but also his opportunities," Eddie rambles. And, that's right, he's complaining about the music store encounter he had today. Trying to buy some album for some band. Steve got lost part of the way through, so he's not sure who exactly Eddie was getting a tape for. The style of music. But he has most of the information. He just—

Has to squint harder.

So, Steve leans in. As casual as he possibly can. And narrows his eyes at Eddie's lips. The word pretty comes to mind again. Because of course it does. And he can't pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. For some reason, the tips of his fingers tingle a little. Wanting to reach out. Trace his lower lip, right where it sticks out, just above the divot of his chin. Would it be soft, he asks himself. Does he wear chapstick? Steve sighs softly. I wish I could...taste it. His eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. But he ignores that in favor of whatever Eddie is saying. If only he could make it out. He leans impossibly closer.

And there it is again. The soft puffs of warm air. On the tip of his nose. His own lips. Tickling his stubble. Eddie's breath smells like weed and strawberry Tab; a little bit of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Maybe the smallest trace of pepper—

"Uh, Steve?" Eddie nervously calls out. But gets no response. Steve is only a couple inches away from his face. Eyes hooded. Glassy. Zeroed in on Eddie's lips. He's not talking. Doesn't even give a hum. Just...keeps staring.

Eddie sucks in a breath. Eyes darting over Steve's face. He doesn't talk again, hoping maybe Steve will stop. But, nope. In fact, the only thing Eddie gets as acknowledgement for the fact he's stopped talking, is that Steve pouts. Upset. As if his lips no longer moving is some great catastrophe to Steve, some tragedy, some misfortune.

And, Eddie, the awful wreck that he is, can only assume that this means one thing.

Steve wants a kiss. And is, maybe, too chicken shit to close the gap.

So, with no other option. And definitely not wanting to get away from the heated, stirring, calm mask of Steve's face—Eddie presses his mouth against Steve's. Hesitantly smushing their lips together. Dragging his lower lip against Steve's soft scowling one.

And he pulls away. Because Steve isn't doing anything in response.

No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.

Wide eyes. Mouth opened into a silent "Oh." His cheeks are flushed. And as quick as it came upon him, whatever realization that was, fades. Like a cartoon character, Steve's face melts into one of pure infatuation. Mouth lilting. His posture slouching. Eyes going soft against the extreme red of his face.

"Do that again," Steve whispers.

Eddie obliges. And he obliges. And he keeps obliging until they're under a cool top sheet, skin slick with sweat and eyes piercing one another's mouths.

That's when, in the silent air of Eddie's tiny bedroom, Steve admits the greatest thing in the world. "I don't really process when people are talking unless I'm looking at their mouth. I have to read their lips. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kiss you at first, but—" And the motherfucker giggles. "If that's all it took..." Then he's kissing Eddie again. Like it's the last thing he'll ever get to do. And Eddie thinks, If I die from running out of breath doing this, then I've done everything in my life correctly.

So, sure, Steve has a huge staring problem. And he doesn't really listen. And it's something he'll never fix, even if there's a way to.

But he finds that his technique—the thing he's crafted since he was a little boy—no longer works. At least, not on Eddie. Because suddenly, looking at his gorgeous pink lips makes Steve only able to think about one thing: Kissing. And he can't follow along unless he fulfills that want.

Eddie could be in the middle of a deep, all inclusive description of his recent trap in the campaign he's crafting. He could be singing. He could be complaining about some movie he rented. But that doesn't matter. Because he stops talking the moment Steve leans in and kisses him. Kisses like he needs it to live.

And though he rolls his eyes. Huffs a breath. Smirks and barrels on. There's that giddiness, that love pooling in Eddie' heart. Just knowing the effect he has on Steve. And the way he's affected, too, when Steve just whispers, "Sorry, I got lost again. Start over?"

He obliges. And he keeps obliging. And his lips are usually swollen by the time he's finally done rambling.

Steve stares. Eddie talks. And it's the combination of a lifetime.

--------

❤️

#stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #first kiss #Steve Harrington has a bisexual awakening #Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder

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kaciebello · 7 months

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Us before you and me

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Summary: Luke and the readers’ relationship before they became a couple. Luke is an absolute loser when it comes to crushes. Warning: no use of y/n, luke is a total looser author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) word count: 1,3k

Luke Castellan was 14 when he came to the camp, and he was sad. Not only did he just lose a friend that turned into a tree, but he had to pretend to like his dad.

Now that he was 15, his mind was somewhere else, his friends to be exact. He tried to make friends with everyone. But these two in the Hermes cabin just caught his eye. They argued all the time, it was almost unbearable, and yet they refused to sleep anywhere but next to each other. It has been a few months since they got here, and somehow their banter has extended to him.

So now that he and Chris were watching the Aphrodite girlies, Chris had dragged him out. He was talking about something Luke did not care about. He only started to pay attention when he slapped him. Luke gave him a confused look.

“You're not even looking man,” Cris says.

“Because it's creepy!” Luke argues back. It was creepy, they disguised themself as resting campers next to the Aphrodite cabin. To him, and everyone else, it looked like Cris just discovered what a woman is. Granted, they just turned 15, so he is certain that was the case. Luke couldn't bring himself to care. When he thought about girls only one face came to his mind, and he was not about to confess that to his friend.

“Don't you see them! They look good!” Chri says back.

“I like someone already.” Chris looks at him with a deadpaned look. Absolute silence. Maybe Luke really should not have said anything. According to Chris, Luke could have anyone in the camp. Even crowing him as the heartthrob of the camp. Luke tried to move on as fast as he could from this conversation, however, Chris's attention was sparked, and would not let go of the conversation.

They kept going back and forth and none of them noticed a familiar girl come their way.

“ Stop spying on the aphrodite cabin like they are some prey!” She says, effectively tearing them out of their argument.

“ Prey?? What are we? Animas?” Luke was quick to defend himself. He didn't even want to be here.

“ Not you, you raging virgin,” Chris says and gives him a side-eye. The girl just rolls her eyes.

“I'm not a virgin!” Luke's voice cracked, not something he wanted to happen while defending his honor. His eyes snap to the girl, hoping that she would believe him. But she looked like she wouldn't even believe he had hair on his head. Luke signs defeat. There is no winning in this. He just has to come to terms with the fact that his crush thinks he's a total loser.

–

When Luke turned 16 he realized he wanted to look ripped. And he wanted to get girls, well a specific one but he will not say that aloud. He will tell you he just wants to be a better hero with glory and all that. However Luke was 16, and he had no better idea than to practice in front of his crush.

He was nervous. Sweating. He couldn't tell if it was from the sword fighting or her. She was just sitting down and looking at him. His heart was beating way too fast for his liking. So he was very glad when his opponent called it quits and he could rest.

He went and sat down next to the girl. She smiled and handed him a towel and cold water. He rolled his sleeves up his shoulders to feel some of the cold air. The girl had to do a double-take at him. He could see her in the corner of his eye looking at him. He flexed his arms just a little.

“ Exposing your biceps like that? What a slut.” She says. His eyes widen for a second before he composes himself. He turns to her with a smirk on his face.

“ You like that don't you.” That stopped her in the tracks. He could practically see the clogs turn in her head.

“Maybe I do.” She says, her eyes fixated on his arms. Luke went red and looked away. He could feel her arm on him as she studied his mussels. He let her arm wander, they were seemingly in their world. Her arms slip to his chest. He looked down and then back to her.

“ I know my pecs are big but can you stop objectifying me?” The girl stopped in her tracks and looked him dead in the eyes.

“Nah.” With that, she just continued to feel him up. He just let her.

—

Luke was 17 when one of his closest friends was claimed by Hades and had to move out of the cabin into a small room above the medical storage unit. He helped her move the stuff, not that she had much but still. When he walked into the room he saw her standing with Chris, who upon seeing him gave him a smirk. Luke sat the bag down and turned around to see Crish walking out giving him a wink.

Luke turned to the girl with a confused look. She just shrugged and thanked him for bringing the bag. He could feel the tension in the air. Luke looked around the room. It wasn't big, but it was something, and first and foremost it was private. Not something he could say about his bed. He looked at the girl again. She was not sporting a black camp shirt instead of an orange one. Fitting for a Hades kid.

When his eyes got to her face his heart jumped to her throat for a bit. She was looking at him with a sheepish smile.

“So Chris said-” Right then and there he knew. He knew his friend had said something he shouldn't.

“Don't believe Chris !” He yelped and grabbed her hand. Silently he begged her to forget whatever the boy told her. She raised her eyebrows at him.

“ So you don't get a major ‘love boner’ every time you see me?” A whine leaves Luke's lips.

“Why did he have to put it like that.” He says his voice high-pitched. The girl just let out a laugh.

—

Luke was 18 when he confessed. He was 18 when she confessed back. And he was 18 when he kissed his crush of 4 years. He was 18 now lying in the Hermes cabin looking at the ceiling dreamingly. He could only remember what her hands and lips felt on him. The other 3 boys were taking none of that.

“He's a mess. Like mess mess.” Says Connor looking at his counsellor with a weird look, before turning to his brother who wore a similar expression.

“ Mess in distress but still the best dressed?” Answered Travis. He has been cursed by one of the Apollo kids to say things that rhyme but not really. It's been going on for a week now with no sign of going away.

“He's definitely not best dressed, I can tell you that.” Says Chris sitting at the foot of Luke's bed cleaning his nails.

Lukes wasn't paying them attention. He finally achieved what he wanted since 15. He could handle the teasing if it meant he could sneak into her room after calling lights out. One of the twins poked him in the ribs but he just swatted them away.

He could hear them say he was gone, but the only thing he could think about was his girlfriend.

It was a year later when he was 19 and risked everything.

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anniebeemine · 1 month

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could I request a one shot on how spencer would react to his gf having to go undercover to be the unsubs next victim? (gf isn’t part of the bau, but matches the description of the unsubs previous victims, so the team wants her to go undercover for them)

I got a little carried away with this one. Truly, it can end at the divider

warnings: contact with the unsub, little bit of blood, some manhandling from the unsub for like two seconds

"Someone needs to go undercover," Hotch announces, his tone grave as he scans the team gathered in the cramped conference room of the Los Angeles police station. The tension is palpable, each member of the BAU silently weighing the dangers of the assignment. Spencer sits up straighter, his mind racing through possible people that could match the unsub's victimology. Hotch continues before he can offer any suggestions, "And someone has already agreed."

The door creaks open, and the team's heads turn as you step into the room. Spencer's eyes widen, and a cold dread washes over him as he connects the dots.

"Absolutely not," Spencer blurts out, standing so quickly that his chair scrapes loudly against the floor. He crosses the room in two strides, his hazel eyes locked on yours, a mixture of fear and disbelief swirling in their depths. "No. You're not doing this."

You raise a hand to shush him, your expression calm but resolute. "Spence, listen—"

"No," he interrupts, his voice growing louder, the usual calm of his demeanor fraying at the edges. "You don't understand. This isn't—this is too dangerous. You're not even in the field anymore, why are you even here?"

You blink, taken aback by his final thought. The room seems to close in as the weight of his words hangs in the air, cutting deeper than either of you expected. For a moment, you're stunned into silence, trying to process the hurt behind his outburst.

"Spencer," you start, your voice wavering slightly, "I'm here because I can help. I know I'm not in the field anymore, but I was undercover for years.

This is what I trained for, what I’ve done countless times before. I know the risks, and I know how to handle myself."

Spencer's eyes widen with realization, the anger in them quickly replaced by something softer, more pained. "I know you were. But that’s exactly why I’m scared. You’ve been through so much already… I don’t want you to go back to that."

His words hit you like a wave, crashing over memories you’d tried so hard to bury. You remember the years spent pretending to be someone else—multiple someone elses—slipping into roles that made you a ghost, a shadow. You were whoever you needed to be to get the job done, to bring the bad guys down, but in the process, you lost track of who you were. The lines between yourself and your cover identities blurred until you could barely recognize yourself in the mirror.

The things you saw, the lives you lived, haunted you. There were nights you couldn't sleep, images of violence and betrayal looping in your mind. You had seen the worst of humanity up close, and it had left its mark, chipping away at your sense of self, your sense of safety. Every time you pulled on a new identity, it was like losing another piece of yourself, until there was almost nothing left.

And then Spencer came into your life.

You met him when you were at your lowest, just after a mission that had gone wrong. You were raw, broken in ways you couldn’t articulate. He saw through the layers of deception, through the masks you wore, and somehow, he saw you—the person you’d forgotten you could be. Spencer, with his awkward charm, his brilliance, and his unwavering compassion, helped you start to piece yourself back together.

It wasn't an easy thing to do. Even now, there are some days where you struggle to remember what it feels like to be a real person. You left your job, taking a position that kept you stationary.

"I know what you're afraid of, and I won't pretend I'm not scared too. But I've come a long way since then. You helped me find myself again, and I’m not going to lose that. This is different. I’m different. And I know who I am now. I’m not going back to being lost." Your voice is soft.

He sighs. "It's not just that."

You frown, searching his face. "Then what is it?"

Instead of answering right away, he reaches into the file he’s been holding, his hands trembling slightly as he pulls out a stack of photographs. He hesitates for a moment, as if he’s deciding whether or not to show them to you, before finally placing them on the table between you.

Your heart sinks as you look down. The photos are arranged in a cruel contrast, with the driver's license photos of the victims on the left and the images of their mutilated bodies on the right. The transformation is horrifying, a chilling reminder of what’s at stake. You shiver involuntarily, the reality of the danger sinking in.

"Spencer…"

His voice is thick with emotion as he speaks. "These women… they didn’t have a chance. He’s meticulous, careful. They didn’t see it coming until it was too late. I just… I can’t stand the thought of you becoming another one of these photos."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you meet his gaze. "I understand, Spence. I do. But this time, I’ll be under the watchful eyes of the FBI. I won’t be alone."

He nods, though the worry doesn’t leave his eyes. "Just… promise me you’ll be careful."

"I promise," you whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek before standing up. The heaviness of the moment lingers as you make your way out of the station, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination.

+++

The bar is dimly lit, the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses creating a low buzz in the background. You walk in, trying to shake off the nerves that have settled in the pit of your stomach. You remind yourself of the plan, of the safety net in place, but the unease lingers.

You spot Spencer in a corner booth, his eyes tracking your every move. He leans back when he sees you, his expression neutral but you can see the tension in his jaw, the tightness in his shoulders. You give him a small, reassuring smile, brushing your hair behind your ear as you settle into a table towards the back of the bar.

Moments later, the door opens, and you feel a chill run down your spine as the unsub walks in. He’s dressed casually, a smile on his face as he spots you and makes his way over. He sits across from you, his smile widening in a way that makes your skin crawl.

"Hi," he says, calling you by your given name as he leans in slightly, his eyes scanning your face. "You look even more beautiful in person."

You force a smile, matching his tone as you flirt back. "You’re not so bad yourself."

The date continues, each moment carefully orchestrated. You laugh at his jokes, touch his arm lightly, all the while keeping an eye on the clock. Every second feels like an eternity, but you know it’s all part of the plan.

As the evening winds down, he offers to walk you to your car, just as you expected. You nod, standing up and smoothing your dress. "Sure, but I need to pay the bill first."

That was the plan—to walk away, giving the undercover officers the signal to swoop in and arrest him. But as you turn to head to the bar, you feel his hand grip your arm tightly, pulling you back. Panic flares in your chest as you try to pull away, but his hold is firm.

"Wait," he says, his voice low and tinged with an edge of desperation. "What’s wrong? Why are you in such a hurry to leave?"

Your mind races, trying to come up with something to say, but the fear is overwhelming, clouding your thoughts. "I… I just need to pay—"

Before you can finish, he pushes you away, hard. You stumble, your foot catching on the leg of a chair as you crash into the table behind you. The world spins as you hit the ground, the table toppling over with a loud crash.

For a split second, everything is chaos. Patrons gasp and shout, scrambling out of their seats. You try to push yourself up, but the room feels like it’s spinning. Then, out of nowhere, a man—another undercover officer, you realize—tackles the unsub to the ground, wrestling with him as other officers rush in to secure him.

Spencer is by your side in an instant, his hands trembling as he kneels down to check on you. "Are you okay?"

You manage a small, shaky smile, trying to reassure him. "See? Told you I’d be fine."

But his eyes widen in alarm as he looks down at your arm. "You’re bleeding."

You turn to see a shard of glass embedded in your arm, a steady stream of blood trickling down your skin. The sight makes you dizzy, but you shrug it off, wincing as you try to stand. "It’ll make a good scar."

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reidx reader #spencer reid x you #fanfic

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thebestofoneshots · 1 year

Text

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Read Gilded Constellations on AO3

Read the French Translation by @nagareboshi-chiyo

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x reader / Wolfstar x reader

Chapter average: 5k - 6.5 k

Content: Smut in later chapters, Poly!Marauders, throuple, graphic descriptions of violence, MAJOR and minor character death (this is The Marauders Era guys, you know), jealousy, angst, pining, love triangle, LGBTQ+ themes, The Wizarding war 1.0, implied child abuse, possible proofreading errors, mental health struggles, hurt no comfort, hurt with comfort, period typical attitude, first war with Voldemort, canonical character's death, fluff, Requited Love, F/M/M, mostly canon-compliant.

Status: Ongoing (Weekly updates)

♡ Indicates SMUT

PLAYLIST

01 | Summer Breeze

02 | Escape

03 | Bitter Sweet Symphony

04 | Rainy Days and Mondays

05 | Good times

06 | Crazy Little Thing Called Love

07 | Peaceful Easy Feeling

08 I Fooled Around and Fell in Love

09 | The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke

10 | Black Dog

11 | Do Ya

12 | You really got me

13 | Rebel, Rebel

14 | Maybe I’m Amazed

15 | No One Like You

Interlude (Q&A Event)

16 | Boogie Wonderland

17 | Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

18 | Friends will be Friends

19 | Silver Bird

20 | Bad Moon Rising

21 | Fox on the Run

22 | Long Long Way From Home

23 | Hungry Eyes

24 | Peace of Mind

25 | I’ll get Even With You

26 | Hooked on a Feeling

27 | Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

28 | If You Want BIood, (You’ve Got It)

29 | With a Little Help From My Friends

30 | Bridge Over Troubled Water

31 | Strange Magic

32 | Come a Little Bit Closer

33 | More Than a Feeling

34 | You Belong to Me

35 | Chill of Desire

36 | Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

37 | Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

38 | Let the Good Times Roll

39 | Running With the Pack

40 | Hot Stuff

41 | Urban Adventure

42 | Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

43 | Sympathy for the Devil

44 | No One But You

45 | Hold The Line

46 | Comfortably Numb

47 | Let Me Take You Home Tonight

48 | Dust in the Wind

49 | High Hopes

50 | Love the One You're With ♡

51 | Some Guys Have All The Luck ♡

52 | Twentieth Century Fox

53 | Too Much Love Will KiII You

54 | Sail Away Sweet Sister

55 | Noone Together

56 | Who Wants To Live Forever

57 | Play the Game

58 | Staying Power

59 | Break on Through

60 | Stone in Love

61 | Mr. Blue Sky

62 |

63 |

64 |

65 |

66 |

67 |

68 |

69 |

BONUS TRACKS:

Your Theories, The Note, The Costumes, Sirius and the Chimney, Sirius and Vix after the bad moon, Evans and Vixen, Remus and Vixen at the infirmary, Remus holding Sirius at DADA, Remus and Sirius’ height difference, the FOXSTAR picture, Art by @nineloseteeth, We're going French,

Leave a comment telling me if you want to join the tag list

A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

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atlabeth · 8 months

Text

all of me | luke castellan

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: sooooooo i know that i said i would work on something else but this hit me and suddenly i could not rest until i wrote something for it so you're getting headcanons since i can't formulate proper thoughts. some of this is dialogue but most of this is pure stream of consciousness. im already kind of obsessed w them ?

wc: 3.7k lollll this got away from me but it was so much fun.

warning(s): parental death, fighting, normal royal stuff. fluff, angst, all that good shit

princess!reader and knight!luke

yeah

and they're childhood friends bc they grew up in the castle together

YEAH

luke is the son of a kingsguard and he wants to be just like his mom

his father is out of the picture (booo) and his mom never really talks about him but she’s raised luke the best she can

shoutout to may castellan, she was the first female kingsguard! and definitely the first to personally guard the king

you are the heir to the throne and the only thing you're sure of is that you want luke to be in your life

you basically spent all your time together because he was kinda the only one your parents would approve you hanging out with

most of the crownsguard don't have children and those that do have them live with their spouse outside of the palace, and your parents didn't want you spending time with the children of servants

and luke's mom is your father's closest friend because she's the king's personal knight and so everything’s basically already vetted and they don’t have to worry about you accidentally getting murdered by him

so you and luke basically spend every moment of your free time together!!

even when you’re not free tbh

sometimes you beg your tutor to hold your lessons outside so that you can sneak glimpses at the knights training and luke training alongside them

whenever he sees you, his face always instantly brightens and he will lose focus in whatever tf he’s doing because he’s only thinking about you now

and instead of either of you doing what you’re supposed to do, you just spend the whole time making faces at each other and trying to grab the other’s attention

after his mother tries (and fails) to get him back on track a million times and your tutor realizes that you’re never going to listen to her historical prattles they allow the two of you to talk for “FIVE MINUTES AND NO LONGER MY BOY” and your tutor is all “i ask that you do not delay our lessons any further, your highness”

and tbf you and luke could notttttt care less. you immediately join up and you start teasing him about his form and how he was holding his sword and he just makes fun of you for having to be a princess

“Your form is horrendous, Luke! How do you expect to beat anyone holding a sword like that?”

“At least I’ll be on the battlefield one day. You can bore our enemies to sleep with your recounts of Aureldan history.”

“Oh, I bet I could beat you right now. I’ve got royal blood in my veins.”

“And I’ve got knight’s blood in mine,” he says. “I’ve at least got a sword. That’s more than you have.”

You huff. “Mother says I have to learn propriety before I even think about picking up a weapon.”

“Do you want to hold mine?” he asks immediately, his eyes lighting up as he offers it over. “It’s just wood because Mom doesn’t want me to hurt myself, but that means it’s safe for you.”

you do. obviously.

You’ve got soft hands, untouched by the world, and the sword feels foreign in their grasp as you realize this is in fact the first time you’ve ever held a weapon. You cut it through the air a few times and Luke is grinning wider than ever

“I think the role of a warrior princess suits you,” he says.

“It is nice,” you muse as you turn it over in your hands, already growing used to the feeling of it.

“And you look great with it,” he says. “Powerful.”

“I’d give myself a splinter before I can do anything with it,” you retort as you hand it back to him. “It’s a nice thought, though.”

His eyes light up. “You should train with us sometime. My mom is the best at teaching— she’d teach you everything you need to know!”

You glance back at your tutor, who is very clearly eavesdropping, and you sigh as you look back at Luke. “Maybe in a few months.”

Luke’s mother calls his name and it’s obvious that your time is over. You hug each other and promise to meet up as soon as your responsibilities for the day are over, then go back to your respective duties.

Your tutor takes you inside because she doesn’t want anymore distractions, and you wave at each other like crazy as you’re walking back into the castle.

so yeah. you’re best friends and you have been since you first met as children, and though it is a battle for your betters to keep you on task if you’re near each other, you just light up when you see each other and it actually helps

You’re learning dining etiquette and if you get told that you’re using the wrong spoon again, you’re going to lose your mind.

luke is hurrying through the halls to catch up with his mother and you both catch a glimpse of each other.

your posture straightens, he stops in his tracks, and you both smile at each other. then luke’s mother calls his name again and he’s on his way again.

spoons aren’t that bad, you think

you’re mulling over history books in the library that make you want to fall asleep.

luke just happens to be walking past on the way to his chores, and when he spots you, he yells out your name and waves at you. you wave back, and you both stifle laughs as your tutor shushes you

suddenly, you’re not feeling so down.

Luke is training on his own out in the yard before dinner and he’s about ready to break his sword over his knee because he can not get this damned move right.

he hears your voice across the way and sees you, all dressed up and with your parents about to get into a carriage. you’re on your way to a ball, he remembers you telling him earlier, and he finds himself smiling.

You had been complaining about it, and Luke had told you to just think of the two of you hanging out whenever you were bored. You said you were already planning on it.

His smile widens. He’d be thinking of you too, wondering what it would be like for him to attend with you. Dressed in the same gaudy outfits as the rest of the court, having to go through the same dull niceties that you’d been raised on, listening to stories from other royals he couldn’t care less about.

Standing beside you as an equal.

Luke’s young, but he already doesn’t care for nobles and their court. But he thinks he would wear any amount of uncomfortable suits and listen to any number of dull proposals for you.

for the rest of the night, he trains better than he thinks he ever has.

and of course, you break the rules together. GOD HELP YOUR CHARGES YOU ALWAYS BREAK THE RULES TOGETHER

your tutor cannot count how many times you’ve slipped out of lessons and she’s found you in the halls talking with luke, him smiling brighter than she’s ever seen as he listens to you go on and on and on

your mother cannot count all the times you’ve talked about what you and luke did that day instead of describing to her any of the history or arithmetic you were supposed to be learning

May always keeps watch over her son, but she’s been known to turn a blind eye when Luke thinks he’s being sneaky to go off and see you.

and of course, sometimes you actually hang out when you’re allowed to hang out lol

you’ve run around every bit of the palace grounds together, you ride horses together (with parental supervision of course), and once you’re a bit older, you’re actually allowed to practice with luke and the rest of the knights!

typically, it’s a shorter session with May teaching the two of you, and typically, it ends with both of you ready to die because you’re just kids and even though Luke is a prodigy, you are sooooo bad at swordfighting. it’s honestly not even funny how bad you are at it the first couple of lessons

But May just pats you on the shoulder and promises to work with you until you’re as good as her.

(luke pouts and says he wants to be better than you. you forget that you’re holding a sword and just start complaining at each other)

(“you CAN’T be better than me luke I’m the princess”) (“YES I CAN MY MOM’S THE GREATEST KNIGHT EVER”) (“SHE PROTECTS MY DAD WHICH MEANS I CAN BE THE BEST EVER”) (“THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE”) (“YES IT DOES”) (“NO IT DOESN’T”) (“I’M YOUR PRINCESS YES IT DOES”)

(the lesson ends when May has to pry you two apart)

but we haven’t gotten to the knight part.

because it’s a bit sad.

what happens to may in pjo canon is awful but

May Castellan dies when you and Luke are sixteen. A month after your birthday, in fact. Four months after Luke’s.

(he’s always held those three months over you, especially as you get older.)

(it doesn’t seem to matter as much now.)

rumor has it throughout the kingdom that she slowly went insane and then fully lost it, ultimately dying in an attack against the king during a ball that turned out to be a set-up.

the only one who knows what really happened that night is your father as he was the only other person there at her death that still lives, but he refuses to talk about it, only saying that “Head of the Kingsguard May Castellan died a hero and shall be remembered as such”.

Luke… does not take it well

besides the king, he obviously spent the most time with his mother and it was obvious to anyone that she loved him with all her heart and wanted him to follow whatever dreams he may have had

she’s given a knight’s funeral and you are beside Luke the entire time, holding his hand or him leaning against you as you listen to eulogies or even just sitting next to each other because your presence is enough for him. it doesn’t matter what—you’re always connected in some way, and no one says a single thing.

he needs you, and you need him. it’s as simple as that. and no one dares to correct the princess when she’s icier than they’ve ever seen her.

You put on that front to protect Luke—you don’t want anyone bothering him, and you don’t want him to have to worry about you at a time like this.

Because you know he would. He always does.

When Luke gives his speech, barely able to hold back tears, he looks at you the entire time. he doesn’t tell you, but you’re the only reason he’s able to get through the day.

Luke becomes a ward of the royal family.

There’s no chance you’re letting him leave, and Luke doesn’t want to go either. The memories of his mother all around are painful, but he takes some small comfort that she’ll live on in Aurelda forever.

Your parents have no objection to it—he grew up in the palace anyways, and he can practically provide for himself. You wouldn’t have let them say no.

You’re thankful beyond words that Luke is still here. Because everything feels like a mess, and things are a little more manageable with him by your side.

Someone tried to kill your father. They killed Luke’s mother instead. Both of you are broken in different ways.

Obviously, this sparks the beginnings of war both in Aurelda and in Luke’s entire being.

but that’s a topic for another day.

May’s death changes your relationship.

She was his mother, obviously, but you were close to her as well. you could never forget every time she ruffled your hair and complimented your sword fighting, or every time she would acknowledge you in the midst of a crowd with a smile and a nod, or every time she would act like a mother and not a knight.

she had the best hugs in the entire kingdom.

But her death changes your relationship because Luke changes.

He’s angrier. His edges have all sharpened, honed by his own spirit. He softens when he’s around you, but to the outside eye he’s impenetrable. He thinks you’re the only one that understands him.

Others pity him, fear him, are jealous of him.

You treat him the way you always have. Like your best friend.

That’s all he needs.

And so Luke throws himself into his training, vowing to become the youngest kingsguard in Aureldan history to honor his mother’s memory. He wasn’t able to save his mother, and he needs to become strong enough to protect the ones he loves from anything.

(You don’t know it, but he thinks of you every time he closes his eyes and sees the night his mother died. He’s in the place of his mother and you’re in your father’s position, and Luke knows that he would sacrifice himself for you every single time.)

So you don’t have as much time for each other anymore. Luke is on his kingsguard mission, and you’re starting to come into your own as the Crown Princess of Aurelda.

You can’t sneak out of lessons anymore to go talk with Luke, because you’re starting to learn about the nuances of politics.

Luke can’t let you interrupt his training, because he’s on a warpath and he won’t be stopped before he reaches his goal.

You can’t neglect your responsibilities because they’re more than just etiquette or history lessons. War is going to come to Aurelda sooner or later, and you’ve got to be ready when it does.

You’re only sixteen, but neither of you are children anymore.

But you’re still best friends. Nothing can change that—it’s just changed the way you show it.

You take your morning walks with your mother past the training grounds, and Luke always smiles at you and salutes no matter what. You bow your head in a very refined, princess-y nod, and you continue on.

Luke makes sure he’s always the one that gets to deliver news to you, even going so far as to make deals with other servants and messengers just to make sure he gets to see you at least once a day.

Most of the time, you end up seeing each other at night. Just happening to end up in the kitchens at the same time for a midnight snack that results in hours of talking with each other. Bringing Luke to your balcony to look at the stars together.

Even some midnight training has occurred together, though you always end up a sweaty mess and having to make a bath for yourself because you can’t alert your servants. Luke says he likes you best when you have that vicious glint in your eye while you’re training with him.

Luke still has horrific dreams, and though he weathered them on his own for a while, one night he finds himself outside your door. When you open it, seeing his haunted eyes and disheveled appearance, you let him in immediately.

It’s not the first time you’ve slept in the same bed after nightmares, and you know it won’t be the last.

(You spent the whole week together after his mother’s death. Not even your parents could complain when they saw the change in both of you.)

And Luke does it. He completes his training, having become one of the fiercest and youngest warriors Aurelda has ever seen. Traditionally, knights are older, but an exception was made for Luke—he’s got the Castellan name and a childhood spent with the greatest knights in the kingdom to back him up.

You’re the first person he tells when he finds out, and your scream of pure joy must have echoed throughout the entire castle. You hug him tighter than he’s ever been hugged before, and for just a moment, in your embrace, he feels like you’re both kids again.

Weeks from his eighteenth birthday, your father knights Luke Castellan in an official ceremony.

Not just as a member of the kingsguard, though—he is sworn in as a knight, and as your personal bodyguard.

Your father didn’t tell you beforehand, and you thank a childhood of courtly influence to keep the shock off your face. One hand tightens ever so slightly into a fist, and you let it out just as quickly.

You can’t see Luke’s expression, kneeling and head turned downward. You would pay all the gold in the kingdom to know what he was thinking.

“Sir Luke Castellan.” Your father’s voice booms through the hall, and a shiver even goes down your spine. “Do you swear to serve Aurelda as her loyal knight, through war and peace, through riches and debt?”

“I do,” Luke says.

“Do you swear to protect the Crown Princess of Aurelda—” your father says your entire title, and for the fifth time you wonder how many middle names a princess needs, “—my daughter—with everything you have in you, until your dying breath?”

Your breathing stills for the slightest moment.

Luke doesn’t flinch. “I do.”

The thought of Luke dying for you is unimaginable. It’s something you’d never ask of him—you don’t think you could live in a world without him anyways. You know it’s what knights are expected to do—for king and country, my life for yours—but that’s for any member of the royal family—any member of the court.

Luke is assigned solely to your protection.

And he doesn’t even falter when he bonds his life to yours.

As soon as the ceremony is over and Aurelda has gained three new knights, you’re on your way to Luke. You don’t care if anyone else wants to talk with the princess, you don’t care if your parents need to tell you something—royal propriety be damned, you need to talk to Luke.

He doesn’t look surprised when you march up to him, but there’s already a different air about him.

Maybe it’s because in these past couple of years he’s absolutely shot up in height, maybe it’s because his insane training regimen has toned every part of him, maybe it’s because he’s done what no one else has done before, or maybe it’s just because he actually accomplished his goal.

But when he smiles at you, that crooked slant to his lips that always meant mischief when you were younger, it’s enough to make that train of thought immediately shut down.

“Princess,” he greets. “I think we’re going to be spending a lot more time together, these days.”

“Yeah,” you say, the warpath you’d intended to be on fading away almost immediately with his words (and that goddamned smile that will certainly be the death of you someday.) “Maybe this is our way to make up on all that lost time.”

“...I’d like that,” Luke says.

“Can I hug you?” you ask wryly. “Or is that unbecoming of a brand new knight?”

“I don’t think anyone will tell the princess she is doing something wrong,” Luke says.

So you do. You hug him, and he immediately wraps his arms around you, and you hate that you had any doubt that he would. You’ve always felt safe in his embrace even since you were children, and now that he’s four times as strong and much taller, you feel it more than ever.

He truly does look the part of a perfect knight. You remember the days of wooden sword fights and afternoons by the lake, wondering what your future awaited, but sure you would be together no matter what.

You feel like you’ve aged a century since then.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” you say as you pull away. “You’re incredible. I mean— you always have been, but this… It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. So I’m proud of you.”

Luke brushes his curls out of his face with a gauntleted hand, his smile turning a bit more genuine. “It means the world, princess. You are… one of the main reasons that I even made it up here. So I have you to thank.”

You feel your cheeks heat. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’ve been you,” he refutes. “You’ve stood by my side through everything, and you’ve always been there when I need you no matter what. You’ve done everything.”

You’re thankful for the sheer sleeves of your gown, because now your entire body feels warm. And maybe that’s why you practically blurt the question out, but it’s been burning in your mind since the moment it happened.

“Did you know?”

He frowns. “Know what?”

“That you would become my personal guard,” you said. “You’ve wanted to be a part of the kingsguard since you were a child, and now…”

“Princess,” Luke says, “I asked your father for the honor.”

That throws you off. “What?”

“Do you think he would entrust your wellbeing to just anyone?” he asks. “It’s part of the reason I’ve been training so hard—I wanted to prove to him that I was worthy of the position.”

“Luke—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“War is coming to Aurelda whether we like it or not,” he says. “All I want is for you to be safe. This way, I can ensure it.”

“You said you would die for me,” you say. “You vowed it.”

“That is generally how knighthood works, yes—”

“Luke,” you interrupt forcefully. “I don’t want you to die for me.”

“The goal is for nobody to die,” he says wryly.

You cross your arms. “You know what I mean.”

“Your safety is my number one concern, princess,” he says. “That’s all you need to know.”

You stare at him. He stares back.

You win, because Luke sighs and shakes his head. “We don’t have to worry about that at the moment. Right now, you have to get back to change before you sit in on an advisor’s meeting with the king and queen.”

You frown. “How do you know?”

“I’m your guard,” Luke says. “It’s my job to know.”

“You were just sworn in!” you protest.

“And I am always prepared,” he remarks. Luke holds his hand out in a gesture towards the door. “After you, princess.”

You shake your head as you start walking. You hear Luke’s footsteps start soon after, much heavier than yours in full armor as opposed to your ceremonial dress. “You are ridiculous.”

“Which is also my job,” Luke muses.

and so luke becomes a knight, but not just any knight.

your knight.

good luck handling that crush on him you've harbored since childhood now.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanon #luke castellan au #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #knight!luke #sadie writes

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