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toxicanonymity · 9 months

Text

Parole.

3k words, joel miller x f!reader

Jojo playlist, joel master list, @toxicfics for notifs

SUMMARY: PWP. Phone sex and just-got-out-of-jail sex.

WARNINGS: I8+, dirty talk, jacking off, groping while driving, oral F receiving, Unsafe P in V intercourse, semi-public (bathroom). Reader can sit on a sink.

A/N: cellmate's nephew!Joel, part 3 of 3 (just 8k total) , follows Jailbird and Collect Calls but you just need to know his aunt Mabel is your cellmate. This is the last of Jailbird for the foreseeable future. It’s been a fun diversion. This is not the last of Jojo.

—---

All goes well at your parole hearing. After you get your 72 Hour release notice, you call Joel.

He answers the phone, "You're gettin' out," and you can hear his smile.

"How did you–did Mabel tell you?"

"Had a feeling. So what, 3 days now?" He opens and squirts the lube.

"9pm Monday."

"You just made my dick so hard, baby."

"Jojo. . ."

"Hmm?"

"God, sorry - Joel"

"Call me whatever ya want, jailbird. Mm. Call me joel, call me jojo--mm, call me call me any time baby”

“Can’t wait to be on the other side of that glass.”

"And I'm gonna pop that post-penny cherry" (post-penitentiary)

“Shhh”

"What they're gonna un-parole ya 'cause there’s a hard dick waitin’ for ya?"

“Well, I like the sound of that,” you purr.

“Oh we’re gonna get nasty, baby,” he breathes.

“Mmm”

“You wear thongs, g-strings, whatcha wear?” His fist slurps up and down his cock.

“Thongs,” you tell him. “Boy shorts if I wanna be comfy.”

“Damn. . . that ass in boy shorts? Whew.”

“How ‘bout you?”

“Boxer briefs.”

“Mm, shoulda known. Those tight-ass pants”

“Yeah, ya like’em?”

“Like how ya wear’em”

“How’s that”

“Packing somethin’ fat and juicy for me.”

He moans. “Fuck yeah i am, just for you baby”

“Just for me?”

“‘S’all for you, baby. How ya want it first?”

“Honey, I just want it.”

“Can i come inside ya?”

“Mmmm, yeah. . .”

“Fuck, i’m gonna pump you full,” his voice tells you he’s already close.

“You better.”

“Fuck yeah, baby.” His hand is moving faster. “Ohhh, fuck” He shudders and groans long and drawn out as he comes.

“Started without me didn’t ya”

“Wouldn’t do that,” he says in a transparently false tone.

“Hope ya can last longer than that,” you tease.

“Fuck you,” he laughs. “Shit, maybe I can’t. ‘S’what ya do to me, baby.”

“Then we’ll just have to do it again.”

“Oh I’m grocery shoppin’ like it’s the apocalypse. Won’t have to leave the house for a week.”

—------

Mabel gives you one last poke-and-stick tattoo, a heart on your other hand, mirroring the location of your "clover." The last thing she tells you is, “He’s snipped, ya know. I took care of him after he did it. ”

“Nice.”

“Yeah, he knows he's not dad material," she explains, then lightens the mood with, "he's daddy, not dad," and a wink.

You're gonna miss her. But if things go well with Joel, you’ll see her again in a few months.

—----

Walking down the ramp from the tower toward the jail lobby, you can taste the freedom and almost forget what you’re wearing – booty skirt, platform heels, mesh crop top, fishnets.

His posture is what catches your eye first. Feet spread, arms crossed. Your eyes fall to his bulge then pan up to a white t-shirt struggling to contain the tattooed arms crossed in front of him. Gold chain, Adam's Apple. As his face comes into focus, he tilts his head back and squints, pursing his lips in a pained expression as he looks at you. His expression is enough to remind you what you’re wearing. By the time you reach him, he’s biting his lip, shaking his head at you with his eyes smiling.

He opens his arms and wraps around you for a full-body hug. He smells like fresh cologne, and he feels safe and comfortable. He feels like – ohhh, yeah, he’s already getting hard. You’re holding a plastic bag of your belongings—phone and keys—against his back.

“God damn,” he whispers into your hair and his pelvis subtly presses his growing arousal into you. He murmurs, “Mmm, let’s get the fuck outta here.”

He grabs your hand and your shoes click as you walk through the sliding doors to the parking lot. As soon as the doors slide closed behind you, he drops your hand and grabs your ass. His hand spans much more of your asscheek than you're used to. The beauty of the sky at dusk overwhelms you, even with the lights from the jail.

“Let’s make it to the car,” you laugh.

He puffs out his cheeks with an exhale and gets his keys out of his pocket with his free hand. Then he points to a big truck and unlocks it.

He opens the truck door for you and his hand on your ass helps you up into the seat. Oh the simple joy of getting in a vehicle. You start to grab the seatbelt, and he tells you, “nah, hold on a sec.” When he gets in the driver’s seat he slams up the center console, slides over and you turn to face him as he reaches you.

He grabs the back of your head and pulls your face into his. His tongue parts your lips and his mouth is minty. He sucks hard and gently chews your lips as he grabs your far thigh and puts it over his lap. Then he grabs you by both hips and pulls you all the way into his lap with your help so you’re straddling him. When your crotch meets the warm steel rod in his pants, you whimper and he sighs vocally. Then your mouths connect again. You’ve been dying of thirst and he’s a tall glass of water; you just can’t get enough.

His hands run down your fishnet thighs as you grind on him and make out. He playfully plucks one of the diamonds and murmurs in such a deep voice, “Thought ya weren’t wearin’ these, hmm?” Then he attacks your neck with his mouth, and you sigh. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a Corrections Officer headed your way.

“Shit,” you say, “We should go.”

He groans.

“They're comin’, we gotta go,” you repeat and pry yourself off of him.

He takes a deep breath and his hips lift out of the seat as he adjusts himself, then scoots back over to the driver’s seat and buckles his seatbelt. You start to go back to the passenger seat and buckle yours, but he says, “get back over here.” He hands you the middle seatbelt.

—----

You tease, “we 'bout to peel outta here?”

"Buckle up, baby.”

He puts his hand behind you to back up. A whiff of his sweat under the cologne makes you want him even worse.

You awkwardly try to keep your hands to yourself. He’s the one driving, so you’ll let him initiate any distraction. "Where we headed?"

"How ‘bout we get ya some real food, ya hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

He gives a low whistle and says, “so could I, baby. can’t wait to taste ya." He looks at your legs. “Fuck.” He puts his hand on your thigh, a ring pressing into your skin. “Mmm.” His voice is so deep. “Been savin’ this just for me, huh?'' His wrist pushes your skirt out of the way as his hand slides toward your crotch. He finds your clit with ease, even while driving. He clearly knows what he’s doing and he could get you off like this in a minute or two, but he needs his hand back to make some turns.

You put your hand on his meaty thigh and ask “can I. . .”

“*can* you? Fuck yeah you can” He lifts his elbow, welcoming your hand to his lap.

You grab the bulge in his jeans and get a zap of need in your core. You slowly press your hand into his warm, hard package and feel the outline of his thick cock. You’re aching for him. You’re about to ask him to pull over when he puts on the blinker and see you’ve arrived at Waffle House.

“Here good?” He says as he pulls into a parking space.

“Hell yeah,” you answer.

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Cause if ya don’t like WaHo, we ain’t gonna work anyway.” You both unbuckle your seatbelts.

"Oh, here," you take your hand back as he reaches back behind the passenger seat, and your eyes glue to his huge bulge. He hands you a leather jacket, and says, “Just if ya want it.” It’s a little warm for it, but it’s a nice thought if you wanted to cover up. At WaHo, you don’t really care. That’s the magic of it. He reaches back behind the seat again and you glance at his earring. He returns with a target bag.

You peek into the bag. There’s a casual tank dress, flip flops, and . ..boy shorts. Your heart flutters that his dirty question led to such a wholesome gesture.

“You bought me clothes?”

“Yeah, coulda brought some’a Mabel’s but–”

“That could get weird”

“Yeah.”

—---

You walk in front of Jojo into the breezeway, then into the restaurant. No one bats an eye at how you’re dressed. You hold up the bag of clothes and ask, “Mind if I change ‘fore we eat?” A waitress behind the counter leans to the side to look around you, checks Jojo out and says, “get it, girl.”

“That’s what i’m talkin’ bout,” Jojo murmurs to you and gives her a wink.

Both the individual bathrooms are occupied. Joel stands with his back against the wall facing the bathrooms, so y’all are waiting out of view of the grill. You’re facing him. He grabs your ass with both hands, pulling you into him, massive erection straining his pants, yearning to get to you. His cock digs into your front. You kiss him and he kneads your butt cheeks as your mouths consume each other. He moans quietly into your mouth. His hard cock twitches against you.

He breaks the kiss and breathes heavily against your ear, then whispers “feel like i’m gonna die.”

A toilet flushes. The bathroom smells faintly of cleaning supplies, and it doesn’t look dirty. The illusion of cleanliness is enough to not think about it.

You wanna be right on top of him, but as he locks the door, you find yourself slowly taking a step backwards, watching him in anticipation, almost like you’re daring him to come after you and show you what he’s got. He looks at you darkly and prowls toward you, unbuckling his belt, lips parted, eyes dark like a stalking animal. You freeze. He unbuttons his jeans and walks until his hardness bumps into your thigh.

Then, at a faster pace, he walks you almost all the way to the sink, then grabs your butt to stop you. He hikes up your skirt so it's all the way over your ass. He grabs your ass with one hand and pulls you into him again. The strength of his erection through his exposed boxer briefs gives you another shock of arousal on top of your already desperate need. He pulls back his hips enough for his free hand to engulf your crotch. His thick middle finger presses down on the (very) damp spot in your leggings.

"Soaked for me, aren't ya?" The hand on your ass slides down and curls between your legs. His warm finger slips into one of the fishnet holes.

He uses both hands, one from the front and one from the back, to rip open the fishnets. “Fuck yeah,” he growls. The hand from the back returns to your asscheek, while the other hand remains between your legs. The side of his index finger meets your dripping seam. “Mmmmmm,” he slides his hand up and down for just a couple of seconds, then looks at the sink. “Think ya can sit up here?”

“mm. yeah, if you–”

He helps you onto the edge of the sink. You hold onto the sides and he immediately squats down with his head between your legs.

“Just fuck me,” you say, dying to have him inside you. Your walls are twitching as though your cunt is making a gimme gimme motion like a fist.

“i gotta taste ya," he mumbles as he spreads your thighs. “Sorry, just a sec.” He further rips the fishnets, exposing you to the cool air then sighs, “fuck,” as he reaches behind you to hold your ass. He whispers “just real quick,” his hot breath on your mound, before he plants his mouth on your cunt.

He licks at your entrance. “Mmmm,” he tongues and sucks your clit, then takes one hand off your ass to palm his boxer briefs.

You fist his hair, sighing, “Ohh God, I need that cock, baby. We got time for this later.” You’re physically aching to be filled.

He kisses your clit goodbye, then whispers, "god damn." He puts both hands on your thighs as he stands up. When he’s standing, he yanks his boxer briefs down and his naked cock bobs heavily, making you nearly drool. He’s shaved. It’s thick. Length-wise you might be able to take it. The girth will be a stretch.

He curls his fingers under your mesh crop top and you raise your arms as he discards it. “Fuck it, you’re changin’, right?” He tugs at your bra, and you take it off.

“Oh, fuck me,” he takes in the sight of your tits and can’t resist sucking a nipple into his mouth while palming the other.

You grab his cock. “Are you gonna put this in me tonight or nah?”

“God damn, you need it don’t ya?” He wraps an arm around you and you put your arms around his neck. He nudges you by the ass toward the edge.

“fuck just give it to me.”

He runs his swollen, mauve tip through your slick, then notches it at your entrance and plunges into you with a groan. You gasp as his girth spreads you apart. You can’t remember the last time you felt a stretch like this. But he pushes it right in. You’re so turned on, it works. You watch his cock disappear into you. You glance up at him to see his mouth hanging open with a sigh of relief as his tip nudges your cervix and makes you whole. He sucks in a deep breath as he retreats, then says “FUCK, that’s a nice cunt.”

His fingers dig into the plush flesh of your ass and he begins to fuck you. You pull up his shirt and it’s so tight that it stays where you leave it. He has a slutty little hip tattoo that says yeah. His lips latch onto yours as he buries his length in you again and again. It’s all sucking and biting and hot, humid breath as you moan against each other’s cheeks before your tongues are in each other’s mouths again. The bottom half of your face gets slobbery. He fucks you like he means it, grunting and moaning, “oh yeah.” Your bodies are dewy where your skin meets.

You wrap your legs around him. Your pelvis grinds against his and your orgasm is building. You tell him, “Don’t hold back”

“You want me to last?” He asks as he pumps in and out of you.

“In here?--ohhhh–time for that later”

“Oh, you already close, ain’t ya?” he speeds up and his chain bounces with the power of his motions. “Fuck yeah, baby, c’mere, c’,mon” His cock pistons into you. It’s even better than you imagined so many times in your pathetic excuse for a bed. Oh shit, will you really sleep together? The thought of it melts you. The thought of a real bed alone melts you, but with him, with this cock inches away, god this cock, it feels so, it’s so—A primal grunt comes from his chest. His heavy breathing and grinding against your clit have you on the edge ready to tip.

You whimper, “baby,” pinching your eyes shut.

He grips your ass harder and grinds his shaved pubic bone into you as he fucks you smooth and fast. He fucks like a porn star. “C’mon, jailbird.”

He buries his length in you even faster, then pleasure seizes your whole body and you come on his fat cock.

“Ohhhhh yeah, fuck yeah,” he breathes.

He thrusts into you a few more times, “fuck, baby,” then bottoms out and erupts. He sighs a long sigh as his warm release coats your insides.

“Mmmm,” you savor the pulse of his cock and you twitch with aftershocks. “Oh, god.” He hugs you and you rest your head on his chest while you both catch your breath. His chain feels massive on on your cheek.

Someone finally knocks on the door. He pulls out and helps you down off the sink.

“Someone in here,” he tells them. He pulls up his pants, then leans against the tile of the bathroom wall as he zips them up and fastens his belt while you change.

You thank him again for the clothes as you look in the mirror and turn around.

“Look good on ya. Guess I did alright.”

His face is flushed pink and his hair is a little messed up. He seems to notice you looking at his face and he pushes himself off the wall to look in the mirror. He rakes his hand through his hair, then scratches one side of his beard, turning away from the mirror.

–

You sit down for a late dinner. Neither of you look at the menu. Jojo orders cherry coke and a texas cheesesteak with double hashbrowns covered, smothered, and chunked. You order your favorite meal and he compliments it. Your eyes are on his forearms and tattoos. As he brings the sandwich to his mouth. God damn, how’d this fine ass man practically fall in your lap? You feel like you owe Mabel big time.

You ask, “You really go grocery shoppin’?”

He raises his eyebrows and smiles with his mouth full, nodding. “Mmm-hmm.” After he finishes chewing he washes it down with a sip of cherry coke, then adds, “but you know what i really want.” He looks at you darkly. “So tell me it’s all you can eat, baby.”

“Just for you, Jojo. . .”

-----

yeah he wants to be covered and smothered in that.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. I love your passion and your comments and reblogs really motivate me. <333

----

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #toxicanonymity ☠️#cellmate's nephew!joel #CN!Joel Miller #CN!Joel #cellmate's nephew!joel miller #jojo ☠️#finally f*cking Friday #joel x reader

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stevenose · 10 months

Text

☾₊ ⊹ reaching for the moon (18+)

pairing: steve x fem!reader with afab anatomy

contains: smut and a dumb amount of world building that was not necessary for this. set in 30s nyc, no hawkins. old money!steve; husband!steve; art historian!steve; not rich whatsoever!reader; they’re married your honor; steve’s parents (they’re the worst <3); slut shaming; allusions to bisexual steve; brief homophobia; soft!steve!!! he’s so damn soft!!!!; period typical everything lol

you might want to know: steve smokes and reader takes a drag; heated arguments which lead to some implied homophobia; reader wears an evening gown with a corset; car sex (info on said car here, for clarity sake)

author’s note: this is very heavily inspired by titanic 1997 (obviously) because it’s been rotting my brain. it’s very self indulgent but i’m hoping others like it!!

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It’s always the same. A party, an invitation in the mail, embossed with gold foil. Steve fuming because they could have walked over instead of paying for postage, or called him on the telephone. Each time both of you thinking it’ll be different, each time leaving with Steve’s wounded ego or anger levels at an all time high. You don’t know why you torture yourselves other than the fact that his mother will make a tremendous deal out of it when you don’t show up. She’s not above telling guests gossip of your marriage when you’re not around, just so it can get back to you and hurt you again.

Your issue lies with both of them. Steve’s issue lies with his father. Old, rich, stupid. Too well-known for being a lawyer for companies that should be shuttered and closed for violations and accidents. A union buster. And Steve’s biggest critic.

He never wants to hear about Steve’s studies or projects. His mind appears to me hyper-focused on Steve’s shortfalls - no military experience, no investments, married to a poor girl he met at a bar in Manhattan. Steve is everything his father detests, and vice verse.

To his credit, Steve tries, even when he doesn’t want to. He talks to his mother first while she stares at you like you’re venomous. She’s good at reeling in her disappointment. Steve’s her only child and you figure she doesn’t want to lose that. His father, on the other hand, is closer to Steve’s cousins - successors of big oil, engineers, military men.

You smile at her while Steve tells her about his recent trip to Florence, about the chapels and art. You’re wearing her diamonds around her neck. You know she wants to strike them from you. You’d say you clean up well, wearing one of the tens of dresses Steve’s purchased for you, custom made and tailored. Satin and lace and silk, only the finest. His mother thinks she can still smell alcohol and cigarette smoke on you. She detests your miserable background, how unladylike and uneducated you are, that you’ve worked where women shouldn’t and have done things she’d consider unforgivable sin.

“They’d mix pigments with egg -“

“Egg?”

“Right, yes, they called it tempura. And the pigments - Jesus, should’ve been there to see Giotto’s blue, so rich and -“

“Are you talking about those paintings again?”

Steve tenses and turns to face his father. Your face falls slightly.

“I am.”

“How much was that trip, anyway?” his father presses. He gives you a wink as if you’re in on the joke. “Certainly more than your engagement ring?”

You clench your fist within its satin glove. The gold, Art Deco band digs into your ring finger. Steve’s jaw tenses.

“Not a penny more,” he says cooly. He adjusts his suit coat. His adams apple bobs under the stark white collar of his shirt. “Not that it’d matter, right?”

And Steve’s now doing your favorite thing, where he’ll pretend he actually agrees with his parent’s ridiculous world views until they pick up on the sarcasm. Your eyes meet and the corner of your mouth lifts slightly, but you’re back to being stone faced a moment later.

“Of course not!” his father bellows, hitting Steve on the shoulder like he’s a long time friend and not his son. He looks at you now. For reasons unexplained, his father likes you. Probably for some perverted reason, you figure. “And how’d you fare without him at home?”

“Probably enjoyed company downtown,” his mother says.

“I did.” You look at Steve again, speaking to him with a language only you two understand. It’s okay. “Don’t worry. I hardly had ten glasses of beer.”

His father laughs loudly again, making guests crane their necks to look. His mother narrows her eyes at you but smiles curtly.

“How wonderful.”

“And you’re all right with him going off overseas?” his father presses. “To go look at crumbling paintings and enjoy boat rides in that dirty canal?”

“Not any dirtier than the city, I’m sure,” you say, now taking Steve’s arm in yours. His jaw is set. “Besides, I like hearing about what he’s seen.”

“Pity he couldn’t take you with him,” his father continues. “Surely there’s a reason for that?”

You tighten your grip on Steve to remind him to not talk. “I’d be too distracting, don’t you think?”

“Certainly,” his mother says.

“Not as distracting as your friends’ headlines, though,” Steve says suddenly. “I heard about your latest union bust. How many fatalities did the factory have? Ten? How noble of you to save them from equity.”

You bite your cheek and squeeze his arm again. His father’s mouth twists like he’s tasted something sour.

“Steven,” his mother lulls, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. It’s the only thing you both have in common, trying to keep him cool and calm. It never works.

“And who’d you hear it from if not me?” His father’s tone has shifted. It feels suffocating in the small circle you stand in. “Oh, those dirty men you fraternize with.”

His father’s preoccupation with dirty things is ironic.

“Did they accompany you to Italy as well?” He looks at you now, eyes boring into yours. “Did you happen to see the Statue of David? I heard Michelangelo had an interest in the bodies of men.”

You can feel the heat radiating off of Steve, the implication making him see red.

“Ah, of course, yet another thing you’d rather refuse to understand than empathize with.”

“We should -“

“I’d love to talk to you about sexuality, actually, father. How many half-brothers do I have again?”

His mother looks like she might faint, but his father smirks. It’s as if he lives for arguments with his son. Loves seeing how far he can push him, for no other reason but to be a bastard. It might be the only time he’s ever fond of Steve.

“We’ll get going,” you say weakly, tugging Steve along, and he’s happy as long as he has the last word. “Always a pleasure.”

“You’d know much about pleasure and vices, wouldn’t you?”

It’s the first time John Harrington has ever made a verbal slight towards you. You pause, just barely, and continue moving, but Steve whips around, eyes wild. “I’m sorry?”

His voice is rigid and loud. Guests crane their necks again but this time, they keep staring. You and his mother both grit out “Steve,” but he strides towards his father. You fear he might actually strike him, so you lunge forward, putting your arm between them.

“Surely something we have in common, then, Mr. Harrington.” You glance up at Steve, his jaw clenching and unclenching, face red. “Good night.”

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It’s cool outside. There are people on leisurely walks despite it nearly being so late. Steve’s still fuming beside you, toned arms flexing underneath his suit coat. He’s mumbling under his breath, then quickly whips around, heading back towards the door.

“I’m gonna-“

“Please,” you beg, grabbing onto his forearm. “Let’s leave it.”

“How?” he huffs. “How can I leave it? He was - he was - awful to you!”

“And he’s awful to you, too. What else is new?” You tug him, beckoning him with pleading eyes. “Follow me.”

He rolls his shoulders and tilts his head as he looks at you. He’s still fuming, nostrils flaring slightly, but all it takes is another little please? and he’s sighing, pulling out his cigarettes and a lighter as he follows you.

"The garage?” he asks, the white building coming into view. A billowing cloud of smoke follows. “What on earth do you want in there?”

You rip your gloves off and flex your fingers. “Indulge me.” You bump his hip with yours, trying to get him to smile.

Steve chuckles, easing up slightly, flicking the ash of his cigarette. "I don't know if committing vandalism is going to make me feel better this time."

“We aren’t vandalizing anything,” you promise. You reach for his hand and take a deep inhale of his tobacco. A needed stress reliever.

Steve seems a bit more giddy as you approach his father’s security detail. Steve’s known him since he was a boy. All he has to do is give a salute and a smile and you’re inside of the garage, door locked behind you, alone now with at least a dozen collectible cars and carriages.

"What do you have in mind, then?” he asks, leaning against the door. “Maybe we can use your heels to carve out some paint."

You step forward, taking the cigarette and throwing it on the ground before stomping it out with your shoe. You lean against him, hands pressed against his chest as you straighten his shirt. You’re looking at his neck as you speak. “Your father seems to think I’m somewhat of a whore.”

You don’t mean for him to get mad again, though it’s delicious when he is. “My father doesn’t have a clue -“

You interrupt, “So I reckon we make me one.”

His eyes widen, cheeks blooming red. "Oh?"

"Mmhm," you hum, and press your lips to his. He grabs you around the waist, fingers digging into your flesh, hidden by the satin and lace of your dress. Your lipstick smears as you move to the corner of his lips, then the stubble on his jaw, then up to the shell of his ear. "Pick a car and take me in it.”

“You - hold on,” he forces out, grip tight on you. “You aren’t a - a whore.” He says it like it’s scandalous, the worst word that could be uttered from his lips. It’s been thrown at him before, too. “You know that, right?”

You look up at him through your lashes. You can feel him starting to harden against your thigh. “Would it be such a bad thing if I was your whore?”

He swallows hard. “Do- do you want to be?”

You smile. “Pick a car before someone finds us.”

"Um." Steve forces his eyes open to look around. You begin unbuttoning his shirt while sucking a bruise into the delicate skin by his throat. He swallows hard. "Uh, the - the Renault.”

Your lips leave his neck so you can follow his gaze. You don’t know much about his father’s insane car collection, but you’ve always liked this one. Powder blue, gold accents. It’s like an upgraded horse and buggy, a large, enclosed carriage in the back with a bench for a driver at the front. It’s not very old, maybe twenty years, but it’s valuable and big and shiny and something his father prizes more than anything, including his own son.

“Plenty of leg room,” he explains sheepishly, and you smile, pulling him towards it. “Now, wait - wait - what’s the plan here?”

He’s so dense sometimes, but it’s because he wakes up everyday in disbelief that you’re laying next to him. The idea of undressing you and touching you seems so far fetched that many times he’s had to stop and think about it before engaging.

“The plan,” you say, swinging the door open and shoving him inside playfully, “is for you to have your way with me. And quickly, darling, we don’t have much time.”

Steve half-sits, half-lays down on the large bench, watching you as you duck inside and shut the door. He watches you with wide, adoring eyes as you climb on top of him, taking his hand gently. You pull it to your lips, kissing the pads of his fingers while he watches you intensely. When you look up at him, your stomach flips.

“My way with you,” he says evenly, “is to treat you like the angel you are.”

You smile and lay his hand gently on your chest. “Show me.”

His lips connect with yours softly. Despite the rush you’re both in, he still wants - needs - to take his time with you. He hikes your dress up as he kisses you, big hands caressing your thighs and ass. He sighs happily, pushing you down enough that you catch on the front of his dress pants, his cock pressing against your core. You gasp and giggle. “Excited?”

“As ever,” he promises.

You hold yourself up with a hand while the other struggles with the belt and buttons of his pants. He kisses down your neck, hot, open-mouthed. He latches on to a certain spot and you moan, breathing heavily into his hair.

“Need some help?” he murmurs, noticing your pause.

“Yes,” you breathe, eyes closing as he continues kissing along your exposed collarbone. You should be careful with your dress, taking it off and hanging it up, but Steve will just buy you another one. And another one. And another one. Anything your heart desires. Rich silk from Egypt, lace from Italy, hand embroidered and luscious against your skin. His life’s purpose seems to spoil you, as intended right now.

Steve finally frees himself, but you don’t have any time to stare. He’s quick to change places with you, laying you down on your back, pushing your dress and underskirt up. The material and color on your skin make him blush and growl lowly. The sliver of your corset that’s showing has him growing hard, too. They’re not always so comfortable for you, so you tend to wear them only on special occasions. And he’s keen on devouring you in only it after.

Neither of you are really expecting him to dive head-first between your legs, but you would never complain. His wet, warm tongue laves up your folds a few times before finally plunging in between them. You gasp and grab onto the seat, knuckles growing white. “Steve!” you cry, a hand curling into his hair, tugging on it.

“Worship you,” he mumbles into your skin, before forcing himself to pull back, chin slick. “I worship you.”

Your heart pounds. You’re at a loss. So lucky that you cannot possibly verbalize it.

Steve leans right back in, taking his sweet, non-existent time. “I- I hate to re-remind you, sweetheart,” you moan, fingers curling again, “but a-anyone could h-have! Have seen us com-coming in here.”

He hums, your back arching. He’s reluctant to pull away, but he finally does, coming back up to perch a knee on the seat below you. He’s quick to roll his sleeves up, muscled and toned forearms on view. Then he rubs his cock along your folds, both of you moaning. You tug at his shirt, now not so pristine, pulling him down to face you.

“Isn’t the idea to ruin the car?” he asks, smiling a little smug.

“Yes?”

“Then I’ve got to make a proper mess of you, don’t I?”

You burn. “You already have me melting.”

“Hmm. Let’s see what else I can do.”

When he pushes into you, it’s like the world stops. The only thing that matters is him above you. His hair tickling your forehead, eyes hazy and hooded, lip caught between his teeth. “Honey,” he groans, pulling a leg up over his hips to open you up, give him more access. His fingers dig into the fat of your thigh and he shivers at it. He always makes love like it’s the first time you’ve been together. Even during this quick romp, he’s taking his time, hearts in his eyes. “You’re incredible.”

“I love you,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to his. He slides in a little further. You wince and he kisses you gently, fingers moving towards your clit to take your mind off of it.

“I love you,” he mumbles. “So. God. Damn. Much.”

He’s sheathed fully in you now, both of you panting, sweating. The car’s windows are fogged. You can’t keep your lips off of each other as he sets his pace, languid and long, filling you up so completely it numbs your mind. Each thrust makes you gasp. His whines are low, but slowly become more high-pitched as he thrusts into you.

“Give yourself to me,” you whisper. “All of you.”

He would never deny you that.

Hips picking up, his thrusts get harsher. He’s chasing your high and his. Chasing away the thoughts of his father and his mother, of work, of anything except you. You, his angel, his promise that not all things in the world are so bad. Not when you’re with him. And certainly not when you’re writhing under him, your dress pulled taught over your tits, your lipstick smudged, mascara running.

Over and over and over, the thinks, The Divine is real. The Divine is real.

Your eyes catch as he’s pulled away to look at you. He’s soft, despite his thrusts. “I love you,” he groans. “God, I love you.”

“I love you,” you whisper, reaching for his face, cradling it. “My world.”

“My muse,” he moans, twitching within you, handsome face twisted in pleasure. His fingers work steadily on your clit and you reach up for your breasts, wishing desperately that you were wearing a nightgown instead. One that Steve likes, all pastel pink and blue, a ribbon of purple silk on the waist. It’s much less restricting and much more revealing. We can always continue at home, you think, your stomach tightening.

“You are….” you pant, eyes rolling back, leg tightening around his hips. “You are more th-than enough.”

His trusts slow. “As are you.”

“Sweet boy,” you laugh breathlessly, rolling your hips towards him. “Please keep going.”

“Oh!” he says, genuinely shocked, like he was truly so lost in your words that he forgot what he was doing. “S-sorry.”

“Just wa-want to show you how much I - how much I love you.”

“You show me,” he promises. “E-every. Day. And - and at these stupid p… oh, Christ - these parties.” His hips angle up towards your sweet spot and you’re gone, unable to hold back, brows marrying and face tightening in a lewd show of pleasure.

“Steve!” you moan, so loud you’re sure anyone walking by could hear. His hips move furiously and you have to reach up with your hand to steady yourself, making a handprint on the window. “Oh, my God!”

“Now it’s time to show you,” he groans, and his lips are back on yours. Half to consume you, overwhelmed with love and lust, and half to keep you quiet. You all but scream into his mouth, hand sliding off the window to clutch his shoulders while he works you into oblivion. “Close,” he chokes, a hand once again cradling your cheek. “With me now.”

You pant into each other as you cum, the car filled with sex and sweat and your crass noises. So unladylike, so perverse. You giggle mid-orgasm at the thought of his mother walking in on such a thing. A son raised as a level below royalty fucking his street-rat wife into a stupor, all in a thousand dollar car, would make her heart stop.

“What’s - so - funny?” Steve pants eventually, resting his head on your chest, his cock softening inside of you.

“Nothin’,” you promise, combing his hair with your fingers. “I love you.”

“Don’t leave me out,” he smiles.

You shake your head. “Tell you later. We should -“

“Uh-huh,” Steve says, pushing off of you and tucking himself back into his pants.

“You’re trembling,” you frown, reaching for him.

“I’m alright,” he promises, taking your hand and kissing it. “I’m happy.”

“So am I.”

He helps you fix yourself and slips your feet into your shoes for you, a kiss pressed into your knee. It turns into another, then another, and then his lips are creeping up your thigh.

“Stevie,” you whisper, the pet name making him blush. “Let’s finish at home.”

“Home,” he sighs dreamily. “Sounds wonderful.”

You’re proud of the stain left on the leather as you get up, your dress falling back down to your ankles. His father won’t check this car for weeks, if not months. You hope it’s fully ruined by then. But, for good measure, you let your heel scrape the paint on the way out.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #ns/fw #stevenose posts

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berriblossom · 10 months

Text

Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader |Suggestive stuff, sex but not very descriptive, fluff, lazy evenings with the General. mentions of marriage, and cooking lessons.

✄---------------------------------

Jing Yuan was a well-received man among the Xianzhou Luofu, not only as the general within the seat of Divine Foresight but also as the general of the Cloud Knights, and a beloved one at that. But even with the dozing general's behavior within the past few weeks despite his occasional need to rest his eyes, some of his dear soldiers found him a bit off.

The general seems out of it, even more than usual. His eyes would drift off, his voice would sound as if he was hardly present, and his sleeping habits? Usually, it was a few naps here and there, but the Divine Commissioner Fu Xuan pondered if the general was going senile. He would completely knock out on his desk, barely speak, and only mumble about needing to head to the market about something.

Was he trying to prepare a feast? When Fu Xuan asked Yanqing the general's junior, "What in the world is going on with the general? He is needed immediately for some reports and a few details about the Xianzhou!" The sage mirrored Yanqings already confused face. "I don't know where he is.." Yanqing offered with a shrug. The poor boy didn't know either. Where was Ying Juan?

....

"Now add more water. Not that much!" You semi-shouted. Jing Yuan faulted his movements and stopped adding the water from the pitcher. You checked the large pan to see if the mixture was too diluted or not enough. Taking the wooden spoon you tasted it a little more. "Add some more chilies and some more salt." The general listened to your command accordingly and added a few more grounded chilies and a pinch of salt. You sprinkled some sugar into the tomato-based mixture. Giving it a taste some more, you handed the spoon off to Jing Yuan.

With a satisfied grin and lick of his lips a signature grin formed on the lips of Jing Yuan. "Is this is? Do we add the eggs now?" The excitement bounced off him and made you smile back too. Shakshuka isn't a fairly hard recipe, but it's somewhat new to the people of Xianzhou. You handed him three large eggs and let him crack them into the pan. Letting the egg whites warm and finally cook to a good temperature you quickly set the table and prepare some plates and other sides made earlier.

Jing Yuan smirked as your eyes lit up as you congratulated him on successfully creating another dish. It wasn't that he couldn't cook, he was partially and ok-cook. However, your family has owned a restaurant within the ship and it was becoming popular due to the somewhat foreign dishes presented to it. So much as so, the General of the Cloud Knights asked you to personally cook for him more often. Was this his way to get an excuse to see you more often rather than the beautiful women behind the counter of one of his favorite new places to eat? Yes. Yes, it was. Was he ashamed? Nope.

However, when you instead asked if you could teach him to cook some of the dishes since he was so adamant about eating your food. So badly you felt like he needed to learn how to cook. Hence how the deal was formed. Jing Yuan would spend a pretty penny on getting some ingredients that he had to hunt for on the Luofou, including certain spices, herbs, and even certain types of milk. Every night he would welcome you into his home and fill his kitchen with all the ingredients on the list you would send him. In return, you'd teach him and even let him have some recipe cards or coupons for your family's restaurant. Plus he got to spend more time with you. But night after night and lesson after lesson, Jing Yuan didn't want to let you go.

Each time you'd hold him tight and compliment him on his growing skills or your star-like eyes when you'd taste his newly refined dishes was enough to make the general feel a lovesick grin on his lips. The nights he wanted to ask you to stay a little longer, to taste more of the food he wanted to give you. He wanted you to hold him close again, smile at him with those lips he wanted to taste the food off from. To taste you fully was a wish he buried within his chest and mind every night when you two would bid farewell until the next evening. For nights he would lay awake and wish you were next to him. His heart couldn't;t take it every time you'd smile, or how when you want to know something is too hot, you'll stick your tongue out like a cute puppy.

Speaking of animals, Mimi loved you! You'd spend a good thirty minutes just relaxing and cuddling Mimi, Jing Yuan from his kitchen would peak out and check on the two of you. At first, you feared the lion but the moment you realized she was similar to her owner in a more special way. It was keen that the two of you would be close. Which was a win in Jing Yuan's book. The times you'd gather at the table with him, handing her some food specially made for her (cat food but make it for lions oml), Jing Yuan didn't think of a more perfect situation with the two of you.

This night after the shakshuka was finished, Jing Yuan helped you make the table and set the table again, but this time he felt it would be the last time. The tone of the evening wasn't as light or as airy as before. This time he could sense a bit of sadness behind your smiles, a bit of anxiety behind your voice. Tonight it would be the two of you again, Mimi was off in her own world with her bowl of food, but even when you greeted her it was different. You sat down beside the general and begin eating the portions he served you, his eyes watched you analytically. He was trying to figure out what was on your mind.

Why not ask, then?

"Something wrong with the food dear?" The nickname came out of habit, more so than Jing Yuan would want to say. You shook your head quickly, and you snapped out of your somewhat of a daze. "No, not at all, I just..ah.." You looked around trying to avoid his golden gaze. A large warm hand held yours gently.

"Hey, [Name]..darling look at me. What's wrong?" He leaned forward a little and tried to use his other hand to direct your chin to face him. Your eyes met, Jing Yuan's eyes were full of life but seemed drained. Making you feel a bit more guilty. While the general was beyond enthralled with your eyes. The color was something he could see a thousand times but yet on you, as your eyes...it was the most beautiful color. To him, it was a work of art, an artist full of life perfectly and personally colored them, full of shape and raw natural beauty. Your lips pulled into a frown as you answered him finally.

"I just feel guilty, you seem a little more distracted lately because of the little lessons and such...plus your sleep is being thrown off because of how late I come by and I don't want you sacrificing sleep or your position.." You were silenced when Jing Yuan's chuckle sounded through the space. (Mimi's small snores also combated that, but let's not ruin the moment)

Jing Yuan took in a breath. Both his hands were now holding your face in place, and his soft smile bloomed against the light of the dining area lamp. The warm colors of his eyes were like little stars waiting for you to make a wish on them.

"You are in no way a bother to me, my job, or my sleep. Matter you make them seem better. I was the one who asked you to cook for me personally. You had more reason to teach me to cook those dishes. Your laughter, voice, and smile make me want to spend all the hours of the night with you. Every night, as of fact."

Jing Yuan, for that time, didn't care really about anything other than your smile. He wanted to know what you wanted of him so he could give it to you. "Please let me indulge a little for tonight...my dear?"

The warm, strong hands held you close as he felt your body press with his. The shakshuka? Forgotten on the table. The stove was off, and the food could get cold, but right now, he wanted to taste, feel, and bring life in your warmth. Your lips connected first as a small peck, a little easy test for what was to come. Then the kisses became more hungry, groans, moans, and the daring touches of his hands moving any which way you wanted them to.

Jing Yuan kissed along your face, down your jaw and neck. His hands slipped underneath your shirt and held the skin of your abdomen and stomach against his sturdy frame. His eyes focused on you, and you only.

When you whispered his name as a pleas for him to continue he corrected you once.

"For tonight and hopefully for every night beyond this, call me Jing Yuan, not general. This time I'm not here for the lesson but for you. My dear, let me get a single taste of you and your love along with mine."

Guiding you beyond the table and into a different room, Jing Yuan layed you down along the bed, his sheets were soft and warm, his hands were a contrast due to the rough nature they were accustomed to. But his touch on you was gentle.

Throughout the night, your moans, his words of love, and admiration gave a bloom of love. Within Xianzhou, the people live beyond what would be considered normal, so marriages were scarce, but at this moment he wanted, no needed you to be his. Every morning to have you by him, with your presence, and every night, he would hold you tenderly while he slept at peace.

"Please, my dear [name]! please stay a little longer with me. Just a bit..."

He would groan into your ears, his voice velvety and his words sweet as honey. Food aside, he wanted to have this course again and again until the time finally came for it to end. But for tonight, and so forth until that day comes, you are his, he will forever be yours.

AN: Sorry, this was a long one oof.

#xoxokuki #xoxokuki💜#xoxo💜#kuki's writing #xokuki blog #xokuki writes #hsr fluff #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan #honkai star rail #honkai jing yuan #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan smut #Jing Yuan x you #Jing Yuan fluff #lovekuki💜#doozing general

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 year

Text

Oh Wow

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: Jake sees you for the first time and his life is never the same again.

Warnings: Allusion to smut, kinda (not w/reader). Cursing. Mention of alcohol.

Notes: Flashback part of the Oh, Baby Universe, but can definitely be read alone.

Words: 1900

Jake watched you through the mass of people. Every move you made. The shape of your lips as you spoke to other patrons. The uncertainty in your choices as you attempted to fill orders. He’d never seen you before, but wherever you came from, you sure as hell weren’t a bartender. You clearly had little idea of what you were doing, but the smile on your face hiding the hint of nerves was charming enough to distract anyone. Whether approaching you for alcohol or a moment of your attention, people suddenly found themselves incredibly patient. He noticed you adding a bit too much whiskey to an Old Fashioned that made the man asking for it nearly choke, and so much syrup to a cocktail that the drinker would undoubtedly get a sugar rush, but the receivers of both grinned through the mistakes, winked at you, and eventually came back for more.

You were something else; that was undeniable. And whatever power you had over everyone extended to Jake the moment he laid eyes on you. It floated over and wrapped itself around him in a neatly tied little bow that he had zero intention of undoing. It kept him tethered to his spot, allowing him to have a clear view of you and forcing him to leave his friends in the back of his mind. They gave him questioning looks, but he didn’t care. He’d never before yearned and craved as instantly as he did when he saw you.

"This is the first time I've ever witnessed you giving all of your attention to a woman who hasn't even bothered to notice you yet,” Rooster said, coming up beside him. "It's interesting. Refreshing.” He took a sip of his beer, obnoxiously smacking his lips as he savored the amber liquid. "A nice change of pace, you know?"

Teasing was inevitable. As the night carried on Jake had heard his teammates’ snickers gather in frequency—something he wasn’t known for letting them get away with, especially after such an exhausting workday, but his sour mood flipped after stepping into the bar and he easily let it all go.

Rooster kept speaking, but Jake only found it to be an irritating buzz in his ear that was unsuccessful in getting him to tear his gaze away from the woman before him. "Do you know much about her?"

Rooster playfully scoffed at the interruption. "She's only been working here a few nights. Penny hired her last week,” he informed Jake. "She's new in town. Real sweet thing."

You suddenly laughed, head thrown back in unrestrained joy, and Jake swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly in his throat. His peripherals saw Rooster’s head make a quick turn as if he knew how that melodic sound would affect him. How it would impact his pulse, the blood rushing through his veins, adding a pink tinge to his cheeks.

The other pilot blew out a breath. “Well shit, man. Did you already pick out your future kids' names?"

"Shut up."

"China patterns?"

"Leave me alone."

Rooster’s lips pressed together in a hum. He didn’t show any indication of doing as Jake demanded, so Jake figured he’d use him as long as he might still be useful.

“What’s her name?” Jake asked. He hadn't realized how badly he needed your name; how desperate he was for it. Might have begged for it if Rooster wouldn’t give it over.

“You’ve got children and a china pattern and you don’t even know her name? A bit backwards, don’t you think?”

Jake finally tore his eyes away from you just to shoot Rooster the glare he deserved. “I’m never saving your life again.”

“Well, if that’s going to be your attitude then you can just ask her yourself.” He raised a dark brow in challenge. Rooster knew, just as Jake did, that he’d never looked at a woman the way he looked at you. That changed the game. Caused his confidence to stutter.

But he managed to calmly, evenly say, "Fine. I will.”

And he would…eventually.

—-

Approaching you wasn’t one of the simpler tasks Jake had faced in his life but he mustered the will nonetheless, taking step after step until he was directly in front of you. Only two feet of cherry wood bartop kept you out of arms reach, and goddamn, did he wish it wasn't there so he could reach out, touch you, feel you.

It had grown late without him noticing. The crowd had died down and you immediately took note of him, looking up to meet his stunned stare. If he thought you were beautiful from afar, up close…up close you were otherworldly, and Jake was thankful he hadn’t attempted to speak because there was no way he would have been able to keep from choking on his first word.

“Hi,” you said, smiling wide, your eyes bright. His heart clenched. “What can I get you?”

“Uh…” Right. He was supposed to want something. Well, he did want something, but not to drink. “Just a beer. Please.”

He hadn’t realized your shoulders were so tense, high up to your ears until they relaxed. Your chest deflated. “Oh, thank god.”

“Long night?”

"You could say so." You reached below the bar to grab a glass, asked him his preference, and began to fill it before continuing. “Don’t tell anyone,” you said, “but I’m not very good at this.”

The honesty was wildly endearing. He couldn’t help but grin and shake his head as the apparent ease of speaking with you settled a blanket of comfort over him. Leaning forward and resting his forearms across the bar, he said, “Nah, don’t worry Honey, you’re doing fine.”

You placed the glass in front of him, curiosity swirling in your gaze. “You’ve been watching me?”

Then Jake’s spine immediately straightened like someone had shoved a wooden board up the back of his shirt. The nerves he thought he’d freed made themselves known once again. He cleared his throat to buy time in searching for an excuse to have been staring at you all night, but you saved him from having to find one.

“I’m just teasing,” you chuckled. “And don’t worry about your future drinks. I plan to do a lot of practicing, so I’ll be a pro in no time. I promise.”

Jake released his held breath. Fuck, he liked you. He liked you and it took next to nothing to have him falling into an emotional well he wouldn’t so simply climb his way out of.

He extended his hand your way. “I’m Jake,” he started, “Seresin.”

Your palm slid against his. Soft. So damn soft. He held onto you for as long as he could, and you didn’t seem in any hurry to pull away, but eventually you did with a blush spreading over your cheeks. You gave him your name. It was perfect; beautiful. Everything about you was so, so beautiful.

“So you're Jake Seresin,” you said, unraveling the thread of tension. “Well, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

“You know me?”

“Of you,” you confirmed. “I’ve heard a bit from Penny’s nephew and one or two of the other bartenders.”

Jake internally groaned. Rooster and past flings were not where he wanted you gathering your information. Of anyone—anyone—in the state of California to speak on his behalf, they were not likely to do so highly. Rooster was, well…Rooster, and those other bartenders were participants in a past experience that, while a truly unique time, Jake had tried to put far behind him after upsetting them by denying their offer for a repeat performance.

With a sigh, he said, “Whatever they told you, it’s all lies.”

“Is that right?” you asked, crossing your arms. “So you’re not one of the best pilots this country has to offer?”

Alright, that one he didn’t expect. Maybe he’d be buying his friend a few of your signature questionable drinks in the near future.

“And you’re not a good kisser?”

Oh, God. His eyelids pinched briefly. That required more of an explanation. “Um…ok so—” Your fingers pressed to your lips to conceal a giggle and all embarrassment sloughed away from Jake’s body. A grin took its place. You were a damn angel for taking information like that and making light of it to alleviate any discomfort. "I take it back. You’ve been talking to the most honest people you’ll ever come by.”

You laughed again and you really had to stop doing that because it was pulling him apart piece by piece and turning him into a mass of mush on the floor.

“I hope the same can be said for you,” you smirked. “If I ever look bad or something, be sure to let me know.”

“Honey, you’ve never looked bad a day in your life. I guarantee it.”

It was out of his mouth so quickly. The amusement in your eyes fell to something deeper as the curve of your lips settled into a gentle part, a perfect space slightly separating them; enough for his tongue to slip between if he ever had the chance to kiss you. Eyes connected, boring into one another and once again surfacing that lovely tension.

He could stay there for ages if he wasn’t so concerned with what was passing through your mind. But he’d never know, because with a few rapid flutters of your eyelids and a sift of your fingers through your hair, that tension—those tight threads weaving throughout his stomach and chest—snapped.

Your tongue darted out to dampen your lips. “Let me ask you something, Jake Seresin.”

“Anything.”

You leaned over the bar a bit and he did the same; drawn forward by your magnetic pull.

Looking away from him, you swallowed as if weighing the words you planned to give him. Then your eyes flitted up to his. “Do you come here as often as your teammates?”

Whatever you had debated speaking aloud no longer mattered because what came out of those pillowy lips was so much better than anything he had mentally prepared himself for. Let me ask you something, Jake Seresin…are you normally this forward? This aggressive? This cocky that you could pathetically flirt with a woman like me? But no, you were asking him what he did, how he spent his time, maybe, just maybe, hoping he’d spend more of it in your presence.

“Would you like me to come here often?” he asked. No playfulness behind the question, but a genuine need to hear your agreement. Just an inkling that you wanted him around as much as he wanted to be around you.

“I would.” You gave a nod. “If I’m honest, Jake, I'd like to have someone—a friend.”

A friend. A friend he could be. I’d be anything for you, he found himself thinking before he could absorb how needy that made him sound. But he was needy. He wanted more. He’d always want more. The little you’d given him since he approached you was like tossing crumbs to a starving man.

“Then, Honey,” Jake said, his lips peeled back in a broad grin, “you’ve got yourself a friend.”

And one day, maybe it would be more.

----

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dollfxcx · 11 months

Note

Hello!!

Pennywise x reader smut where he's trying to get past his heat?

But with the slight difference he has the clussy/female genitalia ( I just don't see to much content of him this way but I would love sm to see that bossy bottom clown! ) IF you're comfortable with that!!

I'm sorry it took so long but I had a bit of a writer's block. I had another request for penny in heat and wrote it but that one had, like, male genitalia and shit so I believe I overdid the heat topic back when I wrote that one.

I tried my best tho so I hope I won't disappoint 😔🙌🏻

TW: nsfw, otherwise none

Word count: (1.5k+)

You carefully observe yet another shiny rock that Pennywise has brought you. It is round and smooth, very similar to the other twenty that you have carefully placed inside a satin bag, which is now resting on your bedside table.

Another fine addition to your collection. It's been a week now that Pennywise has limited himself to doing three things, giving you rocks that are vaguely different from normal driveway pebbles (as already mentioned), dedicating himself to perfecting his nest and whining, which he is still doing as he curls up like a huge cat on his new round shaped bed. About a week ago he raided clothes that you no longer wear and out of them he built a nest, not particularly large but spacious enough to accommodate his enormous size which, as you can see, has grown in the last few minutes . Even if he's…well, whatever he is, the signs of what he's going through are as clear and recognizable as dawn. You get out of bed, your hands are shaking slightly, and you approach his nest, which is located in a corner of your room, squeezed between two walls, as if he wanted maximum protection, and in front of the mirror. Pennywise stares at you sideways, shifting slightly with a stifled moan to make room for you. He tries everything not to make eye contact with you, but he's forced to when you grab his legs and spread them, placing yourself between them.

"What's the problem?" you asked, running your fingertips up and down his inner thighs. If he wasn't in this situation you would never have dreamed of doing this, but you know very well that, no matter how hard he tries to hide it, your touch is all he needs right now. Pennywise growls softly, you hear it coming from deep in his chest like a rumble of thunder, but even if he bares his teeth in a (feigned) threatening way, you hardly flinch.

"Don't play dumb, you're smart, for a human." he mutters, his thighs shaking slightly under your touch. You smile at him and lean on your arms to reach his eye level. His golden irises melt to a deep blue with the blink of an eye, his lips part slightly, allowing you to see his buck teeth peek through them. His gaze is attentive, but not disinterested at all, it's as if he were asking you, praying you, to help him. Obviously he's too proud to do that, at least for now. You cup his cheeks, skin soft and warm from the heat that's making him feel so sick, desperate for release. He looks at you adoringly and if he wasn't the one who needed help, you'd beg him to fuck you right then and there. But this is not the right time. In one fluid motion, your hands slide to the back of his neck, working his clown costume collar to take it off as fast as possible. When you finally throw it across the room, you notice with pleasant surprise how flushed the skin of his neck is, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down every time he swallows expectantly. You chuckle as you slide your hand down his chest, slowly unbuttoning the rest of his suit, Pennywise throws his head back with a strangled whine.

"Stop that." he orders ruefully, his eyes half closed, and you immediately cease every movement. His head snaps up and he glares at you, you can't help but laugh at his needy reaction.

"What? You told me to stop and I did, Penny." you go back to work on his costume, finally pulling off the top part.

"Stop... teasing me." he clarifies, dragging the letter S, which vibrates on his tongue like the hiss of a snake.

"What if I don't?" you ask, pulling off, with a sharp tug, his shoes, which roll on the floor with a jingle of bells, Pennywise sighs heavily when your fingers start to lower the hem of his pants.

"I will c…hew your head off and f-feed on your flesssh." he almost stammers, involuntarily arching his back to make it easier for you to take off his pants. When the job is done, you can't help but sigh, his body is slender and pale, his crotch is plain, without any hint of genitals, just like what a Ken looks like.

"Mhh, though I'm sure that I'd be more useful to you alive than dead. Don't you think?" you whisper in his ear, pressing there a kiss as your lips slowly drift down his jaw and neck, occasionally sucking at the skin and leaving soft reddish spots on his milky white skin, as if a painter had dropped blobs of gouache on a brand new canvas. Pennywise squirms slightly at your constantly inflicted stirrings, his head hanging to one side like he's a broken puppet, completely at the mercy of your movements.

"Open up, pretty boy." you murmur as your knuckles tap lightly on the flesh of his crotch, action that makes him shiver further. Though you hear him growl at his now complete loss of command, he does as requested, he opens a thin slit more or less where his cock usually sits, beautifully flushed like the rest of his most sensitive parts, as you've noticed.

You lick your lips briskly as your forefinger draws a line from his navel down to his slit, applying light pressure on it to dilate it a few millimeters. Pennywise squirms lazily, probably fighting his instinct to bite your hand off, his teeth sharpening slightly.

"You're being so good, it will all be over soon." you assure him while your forefinger sinks further into his slit, from which a thick and transparent fluid is leaking. You lick it off your fingers without ever ceasing to look into his eyes, he arches his back letting out a groan.

"Sit down for me, will you?" you suggest, but you don't wait for him to do it, you pull him by the arm and position yourself behind him.

"Now spread your legs." you murmur into his ear, you see him take a quick look at the mirror that's right in front of the both of you, the same mirror that's showing him from a perspective he's never seen himself from before. Your fingers return to his slit, which has opened further, as if he's inviting you, praying you, to fill it as soon as possible.

"Look at you, all wet for me. You want me this much?" you ask, your fingers insert themselves into him with a speed that takes his breath away, his head rests on your shoulder, a whimper trapped in his throat makes you throb, your thighs clench. Your fingers pump into him quickly, your thumb tracing slow circles around his clit. His lips are open wide, his jaw looks dislocated, so you stick two fingers into his mouth for him to suck on, to make him feel a little better. It seems to work as you feel him lapping at your fingertips, a light purr coming from his throat.

"Keep looking at us, don't take your eyes off yourself." you hiss in his ear, his legs suddenly and abruptly spasm as you increase the speed of your thrusts.

"I need you as much as you need me. Say it. Tell me you need me." you almost implore him while you kiss his neck, you then slither back onto your knees, in front of his body flushed by need, depriving him of any contact. Pennywise lets out a frustrated wail, his hips trembling and buckling in search of your magnanimity.

“I n…eed you” he then stammers, desperately seeking his release.

"Good boy." you compliment him, jerking your head down and allowing your tongue to dig into his warm, wet opening. Pennywise gasps and moans for the first time, it's a loud sound he's been holding back until now. You hum against him, your lips closing around his clit and sucking hard, and he's so overstimulated that, out of the corner of your eye, you see his claws getting sharper with every passing second. Then he says something you never expected. He says your name, once, twice, three times, over and over again like it's a mantra he needs to hold on to in order to keep himself from going crazy.

"Y/n, Y/n, Y/n... please." he gasps, his hair tousled and his eyes narrowed, his claws dug into the soft fabric of his nest as he cums hard, with a guttural sound that sounds like a cry, trembling feverishly under your tongue which is cleaning away every trace of him. When you sit back down, he can hardly look at you.

"Come on, it's not that bad, being fucked once in a while, right?" you tease him, cupping his face and kissing the tip of his nose, he grabs your hand and sucks your fingers needily.

"Need to feed." he briefs you, brows arched in concentration, seeking to savor your arousal and the release of him together.

"Whatever you need, Penny. Whatever you need."

#it 2017 #pennywise #pennywise the clown #pennywise x reader #it (stephen king)#pennywise headcanon #fanfic #fanfiction #pennywise the dancing clown #pennywise x you #it fandom #pennywise fanfiction #clownlove #clownfucker #ao3feed

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warnersister · 1 year

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Show Me The Way Home, Honey

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Simpson!Reader

Summary: The men at top gun love a bit of sweetness, turn out a bit of helicopter honey was just the right amount.

Warnings: mentions of injury, head injury, parental death, angst, allusions to smut, fluff, parental fighting, plane crashes, it's a happy story i promise.

Flashbacks In Italics -> not my gif

All the aviators were gathering by the pool table, each wondering why their peers from years before surrounded them at the Hard Deck. Hangman had just taken a shot against Coyote before standing up, having recognised a familiar head of hair.

“Well if it ain’t Honey!” You stood at the bar, chatting with Penny while sipping on your second beer. You were famous at top gun, being Beau Simpson’s daughter after all. You were training at top gun around the same time as the rest of the pilots in the room, however flying the Air Ambulance and mountain rescue helicopters.

You turned around to the unforgettable voice, the face you were expecting stood before you, smirk adorning his tanned lips. “Hangman, you got old.” A few laughed at your remark but he just chuckled, pulling you into a hug as you embraced him tightly. “Didn’t expect to see you here, darlin’.” He hummed. “Could same the same for you, Jake.”

Your fame here in California wasn’t necessarily due to your father’s rankings, but the name you had made for yourself. It was your own decision to join the Navy, despite your fathers wishes to keep your feet safely planted on terrafirma - away from the dangers of the sky. But after almost a decade of your adamance and training, you were off, deployed on battleships or costal air bases - send to retrieve wounded or stranded fighter pilots when their missions had been unsuccessful.

God it must’ve been a decade since you’ve seen everyone, but these naval aviators couldn’t forget a face that easily - at least not yours.

You were 24, fresh from your required nursing training and now ready to earn your wings. You were accompanied by your father on your first day, getting a prologued lecture that you had yet to start paying attention too. “And watch out for those fast jet pilots. Don’t take no shit off of ‘em.” You raised a brow. “Why what’s wrong with fighter pilots?” You queries, your walk nearing to a close. “Long story short, the think with their dicks.” You scrunched your nose. “Jesus, dad couldn’t you have phrased that better?” He just shrugged and turned your shoulders to face him properly. “But I’m serious, if they try anything come tell me.” You nodded, a small smile on your lips. “Have a great day sweetie, I love you.” He kissed your forehead and gave you a big hug. “I’m starting pilot training, not kindergarten - I’ve been through two years of naval training and six of nursing.” You laughed, just still reciprocated. “I know, but your still my little girl, the only person I got.” Your mum died a while back, it still stung but you both knew you could always rely on the other. “I know, Cyclone.”

You started walking towards the hangar, but heard behind you “it’s admiral to you, lieutenant.” You shook your head, and headed for your first day - the first step into the rest of your life.

The hangar was decorated accordingly, at least ten sparkling and fresh F-18s sat, just waiting for their aviator to fly it. You continued walking, silently passing an ongoing lesson as you spotted your own adjacent to the helipad.

The clicking of boots was loud against the floor, echoing off of the metal of the hangar - the curious minds of the navy’s best fighters looking behind them to find the cause of the sound and god, they weren’t disappointed. There you walked, a stern look on your face, hair trailing gently as a slight breeze blew through the build, aviator glasses sitting atop of your head, and eyes glittering with adoration as you examined the aircraft.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was one of those watching you, a low whistle exerted his lips. “What have we here?” As he said that, Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw lowered his glasses to get a better look than he was already getting. “Now she is mighty fine.” Hangman continued, but Rooster couldn’t say anything, the only thing leaving his mouth was a trail of drool - he wasn’t alone, quite a few of the trainees now distracted, rather than listening to their instructor.

There were three of you training to fly the copter. A girl called Darla and a boy named Simon were both in your shoes. Your first day you were taken for a ride by your own teacher, Hurricane.

You had heard a few of the students mention a nearby bar that was overly friendly to the top gun pilots, so you assumed it wouldn’t hurt giving it a once over that evening. “Penny?” You asked, and the bar hostess turned around at the sound of her name, eyes lighting up when she spotted you. “Oh my god I haven’t seen you since-” She trailed off when she ran over to hug you. “My mum passed, yeah… been off training I’m officially an aviator now.” She raised her brows. “Beau Simpson allowed his daughter to join the navy?” “Not really, but not got much’ve of a say in it now!” You laughed. “Make sure those fast jet pilots keep it in her pants.” She raised her brows. “Damn are they really that bad? Thought my dad was just being dramatic.”

Penny swung back around the busting bar and asked what she could get you. “Just a beer, please.” “Coming up, sweetie!”

You took your drink and headed to the juke box, opting for ‘you've lost that loving feeling’ by The Righteous Brothers. You always loved that song, your dad playing it you when he spoke about when he himself was a top gun graduate. “You lost that lovin’ feeling, sugar?” You heard from beside you. There stood a tanned man, broad shoulders and toned arms that he was definitely flexing, a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of aviators to accompany the moon beyond the windows. “Ain’t lost it just yet.” You replied, taking a drink from your glass. “Names Bradshaw, call sign Rooster.” He offered his hand. “Simpson, call sign Honey.” You took it but instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips and kissed it gently. “Mhm, sweet light honey, I get the name.” You laughed at the man. “Good to meet you, Bradshaw.” “Whatcha flying?” He asked. “How’d you know I’m flying?” “Saw ya in the hangar.” “Stalking me now?” “Always been drawn to the gorgeous ones.”

You eyed him, before replying. “Helicopters. I’m a nurse, you?” “F-18s, honey.” These were the ones you were warned about, the fighter pilots. But still, you were your fathers daughter - never one for really listening to instructions. “Using my call sign now? Could've at least bought me a drink first.” “Ain’t a call sign more like an observation. PENNY! ANOTHER FOR THIS MIGHTY FINE GAL, PLEASE!”

“How ya been?” He leant his arm against the bar, trapping you slightly. “I’m good hangman, I’m very good, you?” He chuckled and hummed in agreement.

you had been a member of top gun for a few weeks now, and you were enduring a PT session, courtesy of Hurricane. "Up, down." Push ups were gruelling after a full day of strength training, you'd been training so long even some of the fighters were calling it a day. through your peripheral you noticed someone perch beside you and you could only guess who it was when they started doing push ups at double the rate that you were going. "Give it up, Hangman." you huffed, pushing yourself down again. "Come on honey, double time!" and he nudged his hip against your own, sending you off balance. "JAKE! FOR GODS SAKE!" you groaned, keeling over and hitting him.

"Stay away from my pilots, jet boy." Hurricane grunted. "You're dismissed Honey, great work today." "Thank you, captain." Hangman offered his hand once you had gotten your breath back and you took it, heaving you up. he pulled you so close that your chest smashed against his. "Woah if you wanted to kiss you, just had to say darlin' after all, you're looking mighty fine." You rolled your eyes and pushed him off - "In your dreams, Seresin." "You're certainly in my dreams." He slung an arm around your shoulder and winked at you, escorting you to the showers before he had to leave you.

"You finally shake off the leach?" A woman also in the showers asked, a sarcastic smile on her lips. "Only thing stopping him was the female sign on the door." You replied and both shared a laugh, "Phoenix, you must be the famous Honey." "That's my name," You grinned. "You gonna be down at the Hard Deck tonight?" You thought for a moment. "Sure, see you there."

"Well how-howdy little, lil lady!" A voice exclaimed from behind you and you spun around at the voice. A little boy wearing a small pair of western boots, belt wrapped around his waist about three times to hold up the flared jeans he was wearing, vest and a pink Hawaiian shirt hanging open. He tipped his cattleman hat, and lowered his aviator glasses that were about a hundred sizes too big for him, almost falling off of his nose when he moved to rest his hands sassily on his hips. You knelt in front of the boy and gasped, raising your hand and fluttering your eyelashes as you feigned flattery. "Well hello handsome, don't you look nice?" He dropped his facade and giggled, stomping his little feet. you grabbed the boy as you stood up and sat him on the bar, keeping your hands on his waist so he didn't fall.

Hangman cleared his throat. "Who's this?"

you were stood at the pool table playing against Coyote while he was actively trying to flirt with you, just humming when he was bragging about some trip himself and hangman had managed to pull off on their flight today, before you were saved by Phoenix brining you a drink over. 'Life saver' you had mouthed to her, and she just nodded with a wink, pulling you away when you had won the game, Coyote much too busy trying to swoon you to realise the eight ball had already been played. "Hey, darlin'!" You turned to see Rooster, smirk adorning his face as he approached you. "Hey Brad," he began to engage in conversation before everyone's attention was drawn to where Penny's voice directed. "Beau, didn't think I'd see you anytime soon!" He laughed and hugged her, "Still human Pen, just getting better pay." All top gun members throats went dry, their relaxed evening seemingly turning into a drill session within seconds. he looked at the group and waved you over with a smile, everyone's jaws hanging open when he pecked your forehead and started up talk. "Hey dad!"

"Holy shit." Payback groaned. "Simpson, of course." Bradley said. "Well, you know what they say - get the father to like ya, get the daughter." Hangman said as he began approaching the two of you. "No one fucking says that, Bagman." Phoenix remarked, but he was away before he could be stopped.

"Admiral!" Hangman laid a hand on your shoulder and grinned at his superior, your fathers eyebrows shooting up as he looked between the two of you. you did a small eyeroll before shrugging the hand off of your shoulder and looked on, amused as he tried to sweettalk your dad.

you were soon distracted, though by a sweet tune emitting from the bar's ancient piano. you looked to see Bradley playing the starting chords to an infamous Jerry Lee Lewis song and you ran along to join him, pushing across the bench with your hip to simultaneously sing.

"GOODNESS, GRACIOUS, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!"

"What'd I tell you about fighter pilots? They're bad news." Your father grumbled under his breath as he drove you back to your temporary home. "They mean well." you hummed, but turned your head against the head rest to look at him. "I'm also not stupid- humouring Hangman is just funny." There was silence for a moment. "What about Rooster?" "What about him?" "I've seen those eyes he looks at you with." "What eyes, dad?" You scoffed with a laugh. "You know, those ones." You turned back to face the darkened road. "They're the only eyes he's got."

Before you could respond to Hangman, the boy groaned loudly. "Mama, I'm thirsty!" He thumped his boot against the bar slightly with a pout at those quivering lips. "Hey, what'd I tell you about stomping?" You hummed, tone gettng sterner. "Don't stomp the foot unless i want a boot in the but." He giggled at the final word. You smiled at him, glad he listened to you at his little tantrums. "You're just like your daddy." You rolled your eyes. "Now what can i get my little cowboy to drink?" "Orange juice please, mama!"

"Mama?!"

After thirty weeks of aggressive training, you had finally been out on several 'dummy' rescue missions. "So today, pilots we'll be focusing on-" The siren which had laid dormant since you arrived at top gun started bleating loudly with an iterative red beacon, accompanied by a female voice overing the neighbouring intercom. "Requested: lieutenant Simpson, Honey, lieutenant Pierce, bear, lieutenant Shirley, Temple, two F-18 fighter jets down at Toro Canyon Park, immediate medical backup required." The Captain looked at you guys. "Show time pilots, show me what you've got." And before you knew it, you were in the air and navigating your way towards the billowing smoke. You landed just off of the treeline, and managed to find the wreckages rather quickly - but it wasn't the planes you were concerned about, it was the pilots.

Two parachutes 100 feet away from one another, seemig like a collision below the allowed guidelines, you were guessing a mock dog-fight, "I've got this one." You ran towards one of the victims and your peers headed to the other, each carrying your medical bag.

you peeled to parachute away from them, and gasped when you saw a knocked out Rooster laying motionless on the grass. "Bradley!" You shook his shoulders, seeing no signs of response so moving him into the recovery position. After checking there was no obvious nor outstanding damage to his head, you removed his helmet to see a nasty gash bleeding right above where his helmet had cracked. "Brad," You kept talking, attempting to make him conscious. "Stay with me, Bradley." you began to apply pressure to where the bleed was, making a make-shift bandage covering the top of his skull until you could get him back to base.

"Hey Honey" you heard his voice rasp as he attempted to raise to his elbows but you pushed him back down. "Hi Roo, just gotta stay there for me, got a nasty gash on your head here." You explained, resting his head against the ground. "You're fuckin' gorgeous." He giggle, looking at your eyes with a dreamily-dazed expression. "Okay, Brad seems like a concussion." "No, no, you're the prettiest woman I've ever seen, wanna marry ya." He continued to blurt out. you tried to ignore the fluttering of butterflies in your gut, just shaking your head. "You don't know what you're sayin' Brad, just gotta stay still for me." You secured a neck brace. "No i know what i'm saying, i wanna take you out and propose and fuck ya so hard that you scream, then ill make love to ya so we have our own little Bradshaw-" He continued to mumble. you breath faltered and your heart skipped a beat at the thought. "There you go, Bradley. Ready to get you home." You secured him as Temple came over to help you, heaving up the other end of the stretched, and moving back to the helicopter, Bradley shutting his eyes in the meantime.

"Who was the other?" You asked. "Hangman" she replied with a scoff mixed with a laugh as you joined her. "Shocker. He injered too?" You asked and she shook her head no. "Was sat up awake when we got to him, damaged ego but nothing else - still taking him to medical to get a once over though." You nodded in response, giving the thumbs up Bear when Rooster was secured. Hangman took a sip of his complementary water, "Hey, Honey" You nodded. "Hangman" "What's up with Bradshaw?" "Concussion, head trauma, need to get back to medical to confirm anything else." he leant forward and placed a hand on the centre of your back and surveyed Rooster. "Back off, Hangman." He raised his hands with a chuckle, before moving backwards and allowing you to work.

You'd worked some overtime that day to wait with Bradley and make sure he could get discharged that evening so that's why you were sat beside him, having just replaced his glucose drip feeding into his arm. The clocked ticked over to eight but you didn't mind, you were move than happy to watch the sunset outside of the window in silence, especially beside Bradley - even if he's knocked out cold.

A sudden cough withdrew you from your thoughts as Rooster's eyes fluttered open. "Hey, sweetheart." "Don't you dare sit up." You warned with a glare, noticing the way his arms shifted below him and he relaxed again with a small smile. "Now this is a view I could wake up to everyday." He said. "Yeah, the sunset's beautiful-" "No, I mean you, I could wake up to you everyday." He spoke softly and cut you off, looking at you with a gentle stare.

"How are you feeling?" You ignored his statement. "I'm okay, seriously, just a bit tired." You smiled. "I stitched up your head, so no flying because you also suffered a concussion-" "I meant what I said." You stopped talking and gave him a questioning expression. "I'm in love with you." "Bradley-" He reached up and kissed you softly and you relaxed into it. "You been growing a moustache, Bradshaw?" "Do y' like it?" You hummed as you nodded. "Good 'cause it's stayin'."

"Yes, I'm his mom, aren't I baby?" You pinched his cheek and asked Penny for an OJ "Oh my! I didn't realise there was a big scary cowboy in my bar, here's your juice box, sir." Penny curtseyed at your son. "Much obly-obul- oby-lysed obliged, ma'am" He smiled, blowing bubbled into the carton through the small straw.

"Who's his dad-" "Nick! Buddy, what'd I tell ya about running from the truck!?" voice bellowed from the doorway, you turned to your husband, who's eyes softened at the sight of you when he removed the aviator glasses from his face. He walked over and grabbed you waist, pulling you flush against his body and leaning down you kiss you lovingly. "Oh I get it, you saw a mighty fine lady and decided she was more important than sticking with your poor old dad, I get it." He said to your son, nipping at your neck with his teeth.

Hangman gritted his teeth and forced a smile and acknowledged you husband, "Rooster."

You spent the next three months sneaking around with Bradley, hidden winks, ghost-like touches, stolen kisses, and honestly a few on-base fucks. All secret until one day your dad had decided to visit your medical station, where you were laid on the bed against Bradley's shoulder while he left kisses in your hair and drew shapes on your hips. "Hey hon-" You father walked in and the two of you immediately jumped off of one another. He froze in the doorway, "What the fuck!" He about-turned on his heels, slamming the door shut behind him before storming off. "Oh god-" You stood up, but was pulled back by Bradley. "He was gonna find out eventually," "He's gonna disown me, Brad-" You had never seen you father that mad before.

"Bradshaw." The group heard from behind their lesson. "Admiral," Rooster turned to see him, and the group hollered like a group of school-kids teasing the man as he was lead away from the hangar and towards Admiral Simpson's office. They sat in silence momentarily, Cyclone staring out of the window and taking deep breaths, assumingly trying to calm himself.

"What're you playin' at, Bradshaw?" He asked after a while. "Excuse me, sir?" He turned towards Bradley - crossing his arms over his chest. "My daughter, seriously?! My only fucking daughter?" His tone of voice rose with every syllable. "With all due respect, sir-" "No, you do not get to talk. My daughter if the only thing I have in life and the only thing I can really protect her from now she joined the navy is scum like you." "Scum?" "You fast-jet pilots are all the same. Can't keep your dicks in your pants, well I'm telling you now - you stay the fuck away from her-" Bradley cut him off. "If I'm not mistaken, you were once, too a fast-jet pilot and that means you lived up to your own assumptions, and I know she's the only one you got because your wifes's gone," "Shut your mouth Rooster, and listen-" "No-" Rooster stood up, his chair being shoved abck against the wall behind him. "You listen. We may not've been together that long, but I fucking love her and I wanna marry her whether you like it or not, maybe you should look at yourself as a fahter, she's been stayin' with me, balling her eyes out for the past week 'cause the only person she's got left ignores her calls and pretty much disowns her! That's your fuckin' problem, now if you dont mind, Admiral, I'm goin' home to the love of my fuckin' life and you have absolutely no authority to stop me." Bradley spat with venom, slamming the door shut behind him and heading home to you.

Cyclone gained a lot of respect for Rooster, that day.

"Hello," Your dad walked into the hangar where you were with Bradley and the two of yours conversation end quickly as you look towards your father with a blank and unreadable expression. "Sweetheart I'm so sorry," "I don't want your apologies, dad." You grunted. "Want me to leave, hon?" Bradley asked, but your father answered him instead "no, i need you here too." "Look since your mom died your the only thing I have I'd live in rags on the street if it meant you were happy, i couldn't stop you joining the navy and i was so scared, what if something happened to you? And i knew from working here for nearly a decade what the aviator reputation was. When i saw you with Rooster i felt I'd failed the last part of you i could protect. but i know, you're not a little girl anymore and I shouldn't have reacted that way, I'm sorry."

You said nothing, but stood up and hugged him tightly, tears apparent in your eyes. "It's alright, sorry for going against your wishes." You reciprocated, "You are a Simpson after all." You both laughed, and your father held out an arm. "Come on Bradshaw, I can deal with you as a son-in-law, I guess."

"Bagman." You husband nodded, mouth pursing into a thin line. "He yours?" Bradley grinned, cockily. "He sure as hell is, aint ya, Nick?" "Yeah, dad!" The boy giggled.

"Er, I think Coyotes callin' me." And he walked away, to absolutely no one as Bradley chuckled victoriously and snaked his arms around you. "You scared him off, Brad." "Good, shouldn't even be lookin' at ya, you're all mine." He pecked your cheek, pulling yourself and your son along with you, and towards the piano, still sat in its spot in the Hard Deck.

It was graduation day, all the top gun graduated gathered to celebrate, Bradley raising his trophy above his head smugly, showing it off to his fellow pilots and the accompanying civillians.

"Bradshaw, congrats on getting top gun." Cyclone approached him. "Thank you, Admiral." He thought for a moment. "Can I have your blessing?" Cyclone looked at him, confused. "Can I marry her?" He was nervously sweating, gulping on his saliva and pulling at the collar on his neck. Your father immediately smiles and shook Bradley's hand. "Of course you can."

Your wedding day was like no other, a runway close to the ocean, a flyover from Phoenix and a few others from Top Gun, your dress was gorgeous, Bradley cried as you walked down the isle, when your father gave you away, when you said your vows, he never stopped crying. God, he was over the moon happy. "I love you, Honey." "I love you, Rooster."

even your honey moon was pure bliss, although the resort was gorgeous you hardly left the hotel room, Bradley too busy fucking you into the sheets and trying to put a baby to you just like he had promised when you had recovered him from that botched training exercise.

Now here you were, perched on the leg of your husband, your four year old son singing along to the tune as Bradley sang to him, playing the piano simultanous to circling your waist.

"GOODNESS, GRACIOUS, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!"

and Nick had called it a night, you and Bradley said goodbyes to your friends at the bar who had also been called back to top gun, you saying goodbye to Maverick when your husband wasn't looking, you headed to the truck. "How about we get home and I fuck another baby into ya'?" Bradley asked against your lips, between desperate kisses. "Take me to bed or loose me forever, Rooster." "Show me the way home, Honey."

And the men all stood there in silence, sickened to their stomachs, their sweet Honey stolen away by no other than Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw. Damn.

#bradley #bradshaw #rooster #bradleybradshaw #roosterxreader #smut #bradly bradshaw x reader #topgun #topgunmaverick #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader #one shot

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paddockbunny · 2 years

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She Suits You

Summary: You show up with bruises. Daniel shows up with hickies. Natalie finally realises what’s been right in front of her all along. Rating: 16+ (adult themes hinted at) Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x Reader Word Count : 569 Trigger Warnings : Fluffy but adult themes including choking & hickies 💞 Authors Note : I will add the “Read More” thing later as it doesn’t work for me on the app

You almost felt embarrassed. The marks he had made the night before were right there, deep and purple on the side of your neck. The Sky team make-up artist looked at you with a smirk and there was a moment where it passed through your mind to shush her and tell her to dare not ask, but that would just prompt her to ask more. “Shall we cover these?” You had grown fond of Fiona but she relished in being the only one who knew of your sordid tryst with Daniel and wasn’t adversed to making you squirm in the make-up chair while trying to draw details from you. She set about picking out concealers when the door opened and of all people it was Nat that walked through the door. Fiona would make it even more awkward now. Asking you to turn you’re head out you in Natalies direct eye-line. “What are you….uh!” She stopped immediately upon seeing the small reddish purple bruises. “So you do have a man!” She shouted it loud enough that the whole paddock could have heard - well, not really but certainly the rest of the sky guys next door and maybe Ziggo across the way. “Who is he?” And so while Natalie proceeded to go on and on about who it was that had left finger print bruises around your neck (from clearly quite the rough session), Fiona kept looking at you as if Daniel’s name teetered on the tip of her tongue.

“Alright Dan, thanks a lot hun!” Nat finished her sit down pre race weekend interview. And when he reached down and picked up his water bottle off the floor she noticed something. The collar of his Renault branded polo pulled back too much and exposed a lot of his neck. A neck where right under his ear was a deep reddish purple bruise. It was small, about the size of a penny. And then when he snapped back up she saw another one. Right beside his Adam’s apple, again the size of a penny but more of a funny shape. And he caught her eyes widen. And then he smirked and suddenly it all clicked into place. Every single thing from that day clicked in her mind and her mouth fell open. “You ok?” Daniel laughed and she felt like she had just made some huge discovery. Like NASA discovering life on other planets. “You’re y/n’s mystery guy?” She couldn’t believe she had been so blind. It was so obvious. Daniel paused, his cockiness disappearing, and she watched him swallow nervously. “I don’t know what your talking about.” He feigned confusion. She grabbed the collar of his team polo and pulled it back to which he tried moving away from her grip. “Your finger prints are all over her neck.” She stated with a scoff. “They are?” She knew it! He basically confirmed it with that statement that he never actually meant to say but couldn’t stop himself. And suddenly he turned into a shy school boy right in front of her. It dawned on Natalie she had never seen Daniel like this about a girl before. “Nat, please don’t…” Daniel was silently urging her not to tell anyone and her heart swelled in her chest. “Of course not. You should have told me!” She hit Daniel playfully in the chest “She suits you.”

#Daniel Ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo preference #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 smut #f1 #dr3 #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo blurb #f1 blurb #f1 driver x you #f1 driver x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff

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howlingday · 5 months

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Codename: Red Dawn

This is a man with an ambition.

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Jaune: (Opens the door) Hello? Can I help you?

Adam: My name is Adam Tauren. I'm a co-worker of Mrs. Belladina. She left this magnifying glass in her office.

Jaune: Oh, well, I'm sorry to tell you this, but Blake stepped out for a moment.

Adam: (Thinking) I already know. This was just an attempt to get close to you, since you're the reason she's so distracted from her mission.

Jaune: Would you like to come inside for coffee?

Adam: I suppose if you're offering, then I have no reason to deny it.

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Adam: You have a lovely home.

Adam: Jaune Arc. If I find out that you're a detriment to our mission, then I will see you eliminated!.

Jaune: Thank you, but it was my wife who mostly did the decorations.

Adam: This man is very skilled. Finding a weak-point may prove difficult.

Jaune: (Thinking) He's so intimidating! Aside from Sun and Saph, I've never had a guest on my own before! Just remember; you are Blake's husband. You are Blake's husband!.

Adam: Removing him directly would prove too risky. It's better to convince him to leave on his own.

Adam: Your daughter... Penny, right? She seems to be quite the active child.

Jaune: Huh? Oh, yeah! She's always got so much energy!

Adam: That must be difficult. It must be hard to keep up with her sometimes, doesn't it?

Adam: She's only your step-child. Why bother putting in so much effort? Let me take over.

Jaune: Hard? Not really. I have a lot of energy myself, too, y'know! Now, if she was moody and down in the dumps all the time, I don't know what I'd do! Besides, we have a ton of fun together!

Adam: Spare me the affection. You're not her father.

Jaune: But the one who really struggles is Blake. She's spread so thin as it is, I can't help but feel like I could be doing more...

Adam: Bingo. You're not meant for this operation. You need to realize your own inadequacy.

Adam: Yes, I have heard Mrs. Belladina complain on multiple occasions about your inability to-

Penny: Penny has returned home~!

Blake: Adam? What are you doing here?

Adam: Greetings, Mrs. Belladina.

Jaune: Mr. Tauren was returning this magnifying glass.

Penny: Oh! That's where it was!

Blake: Ah, I see. Thank you.

Blake: (Thinking) If he's here, then it must mean there's urgent business.

Jaune: I'm surprised to see you three back already.

Blake: It looked like rain, so I made sure Juniper was quick with her business.

Blake: (Speaking normally, Code-talking) Why are you really here, Red Dawn?

Adam: (Speaking normally, Code-talking) I'm here to assess the progress of your mission.

Penny: (Mind-reading, Thinking) This scary guy is a spy, too?!.

Blake: The mission is going fine.

Adam: Is walking your daughter's pet vital to the mission? Why not make this man do all of your errands. Is he refusing to cooperate?

Blake: (Narrows eyes) What are you trying to say?

Adam: You're spending less time focused on the mission and more on this household fantasy. I suggest we reevaluate your operational tactics.

Blake: You're in no position to suggest anything.

Penny: Mama and this scary guy are fighting! Is he a bad guy?!.

Adam: Agent Nightshade...

Adam: I LOVE YOU.

Penny: (Blinks, Shakes head)

Adam: I LOVE...

Adam: YOOOOOOOU~!.

Penny: ...

Adam: How can she not see how perfect I would be as her husband? I can offer superior domestic support! Exquisite five-star meals, five-digit financial support, laundry complete in no time, lifesaving first aid, and even reconnaissance assistance on all your enemies you'll ever face, including names, weapons, allergies, and how many white hairs they have on their heads!.

Jaune: I'll make some more coffee. Penny, would you like some cocoa?

Adam: We'll honeymoon in Vale.

Blake: What is he thinking? I can never tell.

Penny: ...

#rwby #spy x family #jaune arc #adam taurus #penny polendina #blake belladonna #knightshade #rwby au

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sweetlittlegingy · 2 years

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Epiphany

✦ Next Chapter | Better Man Universe

✦Pairing: Father Figure Jake x Single!Mother

✦Word Count: 1.7k

✦Warnings: Fluffy Jake, past relationship breakup, slight mention of Smut (18+ Content), protective Bradley

✦A/n: This was a fun one! I'm excited that we are seeing more of their relationship dynamics and how they became a couple. I also love big brother Bradley!!

✦Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

Sitting back on your heels, you can’t help but hold some resentment for your new job. You had just transferred back to the North Island from Jacksonville, you’d wanted to be closer to family and when a job at Top Gun opened up you jumped on the opportunity.

While almost everyone assumed that your last name got you your current position, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. As the youngest Benjamin, a surprise baby fifteen years younger than your sister Penny, you had always been a daddy’s girl. Long before you had chosen to become an Administrate Service Manager to the current admiral, you had planned on following in the Benjamin footsteps and becoming a fighter pilot.

Though when you got pregnant just after the academy, your plans drastically changed. The move to Jacksonville was rushed and “planned” just so you could get as far away from your shattered dreams. So, when your application for a civilian position down in Jacksonville, was accepted, you couldn’t have been happier to make the move. Your ex wasn’t the happiest, only agreeing because of the pay increase your new job promised, but you were confident in the beginning of your new life.

You moved up the ranks quickly and loved your Navel family in Florida. Finding that even though you couldn’t fly, you could find other ways to focus on your love for planes.

Though when your relationship failed and Adam no longer wanted anything to do with Mathew, you knew that living close to family was what you both needed.

Deciding to move back after a 2 years was difficult, you were leaving the life that you built. Though the idea of getting as far away from Adam was a positive.

Plus, Bradley had moved back to Top Gun in the past year, and you couldn’t wait to see him, you both grew up together and he fell into the big brother position easily. Growing up you two were attached to each other’s hip, and he absolutely adored Maty. He was never a fan of your ex and when you moved he was even less pleased, but he still supported you and was only a call away.

Penny was ecstatic that you were moving back, and being the ever the doting auntie, offering to babysit Mathew until you could find a sitter, knowing that the new job would need your undivided attention.

Which lead to your current predicament, it was your first week on the job and you were already unbelievably frustrated. The last individual that held your job position, had no organizational skills, and hadn’t completed half the needed paperwork for Top Gun.

Landed you here, on the ground, working through your lunch, surrounded by paperwork that needed sorted. Cyclone had been clear that he wanted everything sorted before next week, and while Warlock told you not to worry, you couldn’t help but to be stressed out.

You hadn’t heard him approach over the sound of your spotify on shuffle, though the subtle cough pulled you from your work immediately. Standing in your doorway, looming over your seated figure, your eyes raked over the form of a pilot.

Decked in his flight suit, with perfect blonde hair and deep green eyes. A shade of green that looked eerily similar to Mathews, a shade that would be hard not to get lost in. You loved the color of your baby’s eye, you had no idea where he got them from, yet here stood a random man. With eyes that matched.

You tried to be sublet, but his physic was on clear display, and you hadn’t seen someone as handsome as him, since your obsession with the Jonas Brothers in middle school. He looked like he been running drills all morning, already sweating in the heat of the day. The white t-shirt under his flight suit, was near translucent and clung to him like a second skin.

The obnoxious though about what else lay underneath that flight suit rattled through your brain, but you were quick to push it away. You were in no way ready to date again, and Maty, well he was your number one priority. You wouldn’t put him through a situation like that again, which meant, at least for now, no hot pilots.

“Eyes up here darlin’”

Raising your eyes, you’re met with a cocky smirk. Clearly, he didn’t lack self-confidence and might need a slight ego check, but you weren’t the type to feel bad about appreciating the male form.

You meet his gaze, giving him a ‘what do you want look’ before going back to sorting papers.

Jake knew that he was handsome and though he had caught you staring, he was confused at how fast you went back to work, especially with him still in the room. Usually he couldn’t get women to stop talking to him. Giving them that signature smirk and they were on there knees, literally.

Yet here you were, completely brushing him off. He couldn’t deny that you were gorgeous and when he heard about a new girl in the admiral’s office, he couldn’t help himself and had to come over. You definitely didn’t disappoint with your looks; you were someone that he would have loved to have under him on a number of different occasions.

But yet, here you were completely ignoring him.

“I’m looking for Admiral Simpson.” You return your gaze to him, and hold it. Appearing completely unfazed. “Got any idea where his is, darlin’?”

Jake could see the light blush that covered your cheeks every time he called you darlin’ and couldn’t resist. You tried to remain just passive enough that he would leave, but wouldn’t consider you a bitch.

“Lunch”

The single word: the only damn thing that you had said to him, and Jake felt like you had knocked him upside the head. Your soft voice, that he wanted to describe as sweet as honey, was like music to his ears.

He wanted to hear you every day, in every damn way. He couldn’t deny that he wanted to know how you would sound moaning out his name. He was positive that you would be a strung-out whimpering mess for him, and just so damn pretty begging for him.

But the feeling of wanting to hear that voice in the morning, and how he was positive that you had the most beautiful smile. Those feelings were new, Jake Seresin didn’t do relationships.

It’s not like he was a man whore, no he had a great respect for woman, he just didn’t know how he felt about relationships.

His parents were no longer together, his dad had been a complete asshole, and was happy when his mother decided to leave him. Plus, he loved his job, he was positive that flying was the love of his life, and he didn’t have time for relationships.

Though you, with just one word, had somehow got him to think about the possibility of a relationship.

Oh, you would be the death of him.

Though before he could make another move, a hand clasped onto his shoulder spinning him around.

You didn’t miss the second set of feet this time and as you saw the Lt. get spun around you caught sight of the familiar mustache.

“What are you doing down here, Bagman?” the harsh tone of Rooster didn’t go unnoticed by Jake. The death glare that Rooster was giving him didn’t either, though he had no idea why. As far as Jake knew, Rooster didn’t have a girl, so what type of claim did he have over you.

“He was just looking for Cyclone, B.”

Jake whip back around to face you, so fast that he almost hit Rooster. His eyes went straight to you, though your eyes were already looking past him at Rooster.

Jake was lost now. You called Rooster B, with such affection behind your tone, that could only mean the both of you were close.

Looking back between the both of you and the teasing smile on each of your lips, Jake couldn’t stop the small pang that went through his chest.

Maybe you were Roosters girl, and he just didn’t talk about you? Or maybe you were just good friends, and he still had a chance… Jake didn’t know but he would find out.

Rooster stepped past Jake, coming to crouch down by your side looking over the different paperwork.

“God, they really threw you to the wolves, didn’t they?”

Silently nodding your head, you quickly grabbed the paperwork back from Bradley.

“I’ve got a system and you’re both” your eyes quickly went between the two pilots, “messing it up.”

Rooster gave a humorous laugh, and moved to stand back up. He looked back up at Jake whose eyes were already trained on you. A sense of cautionary optimism could be seen, and Rooster knew that he would be having a talk with Hangman.

“I just came by to tell you that we’re having dinner together tonight, Pen called and asked if I could drive you.”

You had yet to buy a car and had relied on Penny and Bradley to drive you around the past week. A slight inconvenience, though neither of them ever complained. They were just happy to have you and Maty back home.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I should be done around 5 or so.”

You gave him a quick smile, glancing to the other pilot, though Bradley had called him Bagman you knew that wasn’t his name, then back to your paperwork. If you wanted to get out by 5, you needed to focus. Meaning not staring at pilots, no matter how hot they are.

Bradley moved to leave you, knowing that you were trying to concentrate and didn’t want to piss you off. He had been on the receiving end of your anger once, and that was more than enough for him.

He moved past Jake giving him a silent look that said move your ass. Jake wasn’t one to follow orders from Rooster, though he wanted to ask him who you were, so he followed out. Looking back one last time to see your sitting form, completely focused and unfazed. He knew then, that whatever Rooster told him about you wouldn’t matter.

He wanted you,

And what Jake “Hangman” Seresin wanted, he got.

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foreverrandomwritings · 1 year

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See Something You Like, Sweets?

Summary: The four times Natasha notices you staring at her arms and the one time she says something. This was all inspired by me thinking about the scene of her doing push ups on the tarmac.

Pairing:Natasha “Phoenix” Trace x afab!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol and slight mentions of smut, if you blink you’ll miss it. I think that’s it??? Let me know if you find one I missed.

Word count: 2371

Masterlist

I mean look at those fucking arms, also for some reason the best gif I could find

One

The first time Natasha ever noticed you looking at her arms was actually the first time she had ever met you. You were a new bartender at the Hard Deck. You just so happened to have your first day on one of the hottest afternoons fightertown California has ever seen. The Dagger Squad had all planned on meeting up that Saturday and Natasha seemed to be the first one there.

She strolled up to the bar expecting to see Penny or even Jimmy. To her surprise she saw you instead. You were standing talking to one of the regulars Natashsa saw every time she was in the establishment. She waited patiently for your conversation to be over her eyes scanning the patrons in the bar. She carefully scoped out the pool table to see if she would have to politely shoo anyone away. Fortunately she didn't see anyone around the table so she wasn’t worried.

“What can I get for you?” she heard from beside her. She looked up and locked eyes on you and her breath was taken away. You were absolutely stunning and had on a really shimmery lip gloss that had her eyes zeroing in on your lips.

“I’m gonna get a bottle of the Sam Adams Summer Ale please.” she politely replied resting her forearm against the warm bar top. Her other hand pulled her wallet out of her pocket. You nodded her way with a smile before turning to grab the bottle from the cooler behind you. Her eyes briefly flickered over your t-shirt, noticing the words ‘Eat More Candy’ splayed across the back of the tie dye material. She fished her card out as you turned back towards her with the bottle in hand.

“Here ya go.” You said as you slipped the bottle towards her. She went to hand you her card with the hand that wasn’t resting against the bar but she realized you weren't paying attention to her. She followed your eyes and noticed you were looking directly at her arm. She had on an old Guns and Roses t-shirt and had rolled the sleeves up so her arms were on perfect display.

“I’m gonna open up a tab, sweets.” She said to you with a knowing smirk on her lips. A blush spread across your already heat reddened cheeks. Your fingers brushed hers as you grabbed the card from her hand. Then she was grabbing her beer and walking towards the pool table. She kept her eyes on you as she waited for everyone else to arrive. As they filed in she was quickly pulled into the chaos that was a Saturday night with the group of aviators. The only interactions she had with you were quick as the bar had picked up and left you extra busy.

Two

The second time she noticed you looking at her arms was the second time she saw you. She hadn’t been to the Hard Deck since the first time meeting you. Things at work had been hard and she was stuck working extra hours training. Her and Halo had decided on a much needed girls night in. So that Friday they found themselves with mud masks on their face standing in the middle of the corner store by Halos apartment in search of snacks.

She was searching through the wine selection when she heard the bell above the door chime. She glanced up and to her surprise spotted you walking towards the aisle she was currently in. As you walked past her she inhaled deeply and got the scent of you. You smelled like peaches and vanilla and she decided she would never get enough of that smell. You stopped not far from where she stood and surveyed the shelves before you.

“Hiya sweets.” Natasha called out to you. You whipped your head around at her words and quickly scanned your eyes over her. You took in her converse, her long legs that lead to her shorts then you were dragging your eyes over her tank top and and to her arms that were once again on full display. She smirked once again as she noticed your stare.

“Natasha, Right?” You asked her as you tore your eyes away from her arms. She simply hummed in response. Looking at the oversize crewneck and leggings you were wearing.

“Do you know what red wine is good here?” You asked her as your eyes went back to the shelves.

“I’d go with the Gato Negro brand. Their Cabernet Sauvignon is really good and super cheap.” She told you as she reached out to pick up a bottle in front of you. She purposely flexed her upper arm as she noticed your eyes dart back towards the muscles.

“Thank you.” You squeaked out before grabbing the bottle and darting towards the register. She noticed you pick up a king size three musketeer and a bag of sour gummy worms that were on the shelves next to the register. Then you were slipping out the door into the humid night air.

Three

The third time she caught you staring at her arms she made sure to give you quite the show. You had once again been behind the bar when she walked into the Hard Deck. She sauntered over to the bar and waited for you to get done cleaning a glass before you were turning towards her and giving her a sickeningly sweet smile. The same shimmery lip gloss adorning your lips as the first time she saw you. This time however you were chewing on a piece of gum.

“Sam Adams Summer Ale?” You asked her as you slightly cocked your head to the side rolling the gum along the roof of your mouth with your tongue.

“That would be the one.” She replied, reaching into her khaki uniform pants to pull out her wallet. She gave you her card as you passed her the beer.

“Thanks, sweets.” She said as you hummed in reply. Then she was turning and heading towards the dart board where Bob, Fritz and Yale were at. She quickly joined the other aviators in the game.

“Hey Phoenix, that new bartender keeps looking at you.” Bob whispered to her as she went to grab the darts from him. She turned her head and sure enough her eyes landed on you. You were already looking her way. You sheepishly looked away as her eyes caught yours.

She readied herself to throw the dart and noticed out of her peripheral that you were staring at her again. She brought her hand up, fingers wrapped around the dart before she flexed her bicep and sent the dart soaring towards the board with a skilled flick of her wrist. She landed a bullseye and turned to see you absentmindedly blowing a pink bubble with your gum. The bubble popped as you once again caught her eyes on you. You gave her a small smile before turning to help someone that just walked in.

She frequently caught your eyes on her arms as she played darts that Monday night. She even noticed them on her arms as she played a round of pool with Harvard, Hangman and Fanboy. She spotted them on her arms while she sang along to a song Rooster played on the piano. Her arms hurt slightly by the end of the night with all the muscles she was flexing trying to get your attention. But it was worth it everytime she would catch your eye and see your reaction.

Four

The fourth time Natasha saw you staring at her arms was completely unexpected. It was Wednesday afternoon and she was doing push ups on the tarmac after failing to get a tone on Maverick in that day's exercise. Her flight suit was tied around her waist, strings of her hair had fallen from her updo and were framing her sweaty face. Her black t-shirt didn’t help protect her from the sun beating down on her. She could feel sweat over every inch of her body. She was only on push up one hundred and twelve and still had eighty eight to go before she could go and shower.

As she neared push up one hundred and fifty two she could’ve sworn she caught a whiff of peaches and vanilla. She whipped her head up as the smell entered her nose again. Her eyes landed on you, standing and talking to Warlock. She thought maybe you were a mirage and the sun was finally getting to her until her eyes worked up your form. She took in the sandals adorning your feet, the light colored skinny jeans on your legs and then she spotted your ‘Eat More Candy’ t-shirt. You were facing her direction, Warlocks Khaki covered form barely shielding you from her.

Her eyes flicked to your face and she saw your glossed lips moving as they formed words she couldn’t hear. There was no way she wasn’t dead, she decided. You looked utterly ethereal standing with the wind blowing through your hair lightly. She had stopped counting her push ups as soon as she caught sight of you so she had no clue what number she was on. But she did spot your eyes racking over her form as you continued your conversation.

Your tongue came out to slip across your lip before you made eye contact with her. You sent her a bold wink as you turned around and walked away from her. Her eyes went down your back as you walked away swaying your hips. You laughed loudly at something Warlock said, your head tilting back. Then her view of you was blocked as Hondo’s form came between your shrinking frame and her face.

“Are you distracted or something Phoenix? You passed two hundred about twenty push ups ago.” He questioned her with a concerned look on his face.

“No Hondo, I'm all good, just been a long day.” She replied as she stood up and looked for you. But you were nowhere in sight and she thought for a second maybe you really were a mirage. She shook her head clear of the thoughts of you as Bob cleared his throat nodding towards the building in a silent question on if she was ready to go and change. Nodding her head in reply they silently made their way to the large building. Her thoughts slipped back towards you as her feet carried her away.

Five

The fifth time she caught you looking at her arms she finally decided to say something about it. Maverick had requested a game of dog fight football. In his words “It’s been forever since we played and I think we need to boost morale since work has been so strenuous lately.”. No one argued with that so they all gathered at the Hard Deck Friday morning. They had gotten in a game or two before Coyote threw the ball too far and she went to retrieve it.

As she got close to the ball she noticed an umbrella and chair set up. But she didn’t see anyone occupying it so she shrugged and went back towards the crowd of rowdy aviators. Another game went by before she saw someone emerge from the water and head towards the chair and umbrella she noticed earlier. As she looked closer she noticed it was you. You wrapped a large beach towel around yourself before sitting down in your chair. You reached into the bag next to the chair and grabbed out a book and some twizzlers.

You pulled a twizzler out of the bag and stuck it between your lips before biting off a piece of it. Opening your book your eyes started to scan the pages. Natasha reluctantly tore her eyes from you as someone yelled her name. She turned around just in time to miss being tackled by Payback. Ducking under his arm she ran towards the other end of the game hoping to catch the ball from one of her teammates.

“Isn’t that the new bartender down there?” Came Hangman's voice as they all took a much needed water break.

“I’m pretty sure I saw her on base the other day as well.” piped in Omaha.

“You are both correct, she was on base visiting Warlock who also happens to be her uncle.” Maverick told the curious aviators, Natasha finally dragged her way down to where you were sitting. Much to her surprise your eyes were already on her form. Looking over your sunglasses you were drinking in her sand and sweat covered body.

“I’m gonna go say hi.” She spoke to the group before grabbing another water bottle from the cooler and heading your way. You put your bookmark inside your book as you closed it and slipped it back into your bag.

“See something you like, sweets?” she asked you once she got close enough to hand you the other water she grabbed. You took it with a smile on your face, blushing as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. She followed the movement with her eyes sucking in a breath as you released the plump flesh. A sweet smile formed on your lips.

“And what if I did?” You asked her flirtatiously which took her by surprise. She stared at you for a moment, noticing the way your eyes ever so slowly took her in. Clad in shorts and a sports bra she left very little to the imagination. Your eyes focused on her arms before she cleared her throat.

“How do you feel about getting out of here and getting something to eat, sweets?” She asked you as her hungry eyes took in the hungry look clouding your own.

“I’d like that very much.” You purred in response, the smile on your face making her knees grow weak.

“I’ll go grab my stuff and meet you in the parking lot in 5 minutes.” You nodded your head at her statement before standing up to gather your things. As she walked away from you, she was sure that this day was going to end with her getting a taste of just how sweet you were.

A/N:This woman has me in a chokehold. I love her so much. Please make sure to stay hydrated babes!

Tags(Open): @wkndwlff & @sylviebell

#natasha phoenix trace #natasha phoenix trace x reader #natasha trace x reader #natasha phoenix trace imagine #natasha phoenix trace oneshot #phoenix x reader #natasha trace oneshot #natasha trace imagine #phoenix imagine #phoenix oneshot #fluff #flirting #mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy?#slight smut

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