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a-b-riddle · 6 days

Text

Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

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a-simple-imagine · 3 months

Text

Perfectly Pathetic

synopsis: when you take an interest in the new girl, regina takes an interest in you

pairing: regina george x plastics!fem!reader

words: 4.6k+

A/N - in the nicest of ways, please DO NOT read this if you don't want to read about toxic relationships. you have been warned. I don't want a repeat of last time. also we need more fics where regina is actually mean so

WARNINGS - swearing, alcohol use, general toxicity, toxic relationships and bullying/vague reference to weight

the clash of plastic trays and idle chatter brought alive the fragile student body of North Shore High School. on the outside this may seem like any other lunch room but inside it was a carefully crafted game of chess. every move was calculated. each person has their place and if you stray too far you're at risk. you're sat next to Gretchen Weiners. known for big hair and keeping secrets, she knows everything about everyone. opposite her is Karen Shetty. she... tries her best and looks adorable doing it. a ray of sunshine if you get to know her. and before you sits the most beautiful woman you have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Regina George. effortlessly perfect but needlessly cruel. she was the most popular person in school and one of your best friends.

perfectly manicured nails stab into the skin of your cheek as your head is yanked in her direction. razor-sharp eyes stare back. "are you even listening?" the answer was no but you didn't want to say that. "what are you staring at?"

a flash of blonde as she looks behind her. you push against her grip to look too. across the room sat Janis 'imi'ike and Damian Hubbard. you hardly ever spoke to them but you were lab partners with Damian. he was funny. today, however, there was a new addition with strawberry blonde hair, a blue checkered shirt and brown pants. you knew everyone at this school to some degree. a curse of popularity. but you had never seen her before. "seems they've got themselves a new friend"

"who cares," her nails dig a little deeper drawing a pained expression as she pulls your head back to face her. She holds your gaze for a moment. a silent challenge. before fingertips glide across your cheek and she goes back to leading the conversation across the table. you pick at the food on the tray with a fork but you can't help but be intrigued. North Shore was boring and predictable. a direct result of being under Regina's control. but this girl was new and you couldn't help but be drawn to that. to the unknown. to the possibility. three pairs of eyes as you push up from the table and march across the room.

"I haven't seen you around here before." was all you could think to say as you approached the end of the table. Janis and Damian share a look before settling on... confusion. You weren't ever particularly mean to others but you were guilty by association. people mess with you. they mess with Regina.

"oh," by the look on her face, she already knew who you were or at the very least your friends. "it's my first day."

"Where did you transfer from?"

"uh... Kenya," she seems unsure. you put it down to nerves.

"you sure about that?" a curious raise of your brow. "'cause you don't sound-"

"we're leaving" stated firmly as three girls breeze past. the blonde leads the way. the other two are just a step behind.

"so what made you move all the way here from Kenya?"

"my mom got a new job."

"couldn't find one-"

the sound of your name echoes through the room bringing the world to a stop. a weird silence settles over the room. "come. now." growled through gritted teeth and paired with snapping fingers. you were being summoned like a naughty dog ignoring their owner. a sigh as all eyes fall to you. waiting to see what you'd do but make no mistake, they already knew the answer.

"I'll see you around." a flash of a smile before you scamper after Regina.

"so your ears do work." is all the girl says as she shoves you through the door. you bite back any comment because that was how this worked. you may be top of the food chain to everyone else but Regina led the pack.

as the final bell for the day rings, you're shoving things in your locker when you spot the new girl. she seems to be struggling to even open it. you watch her for a moment. a smirk settling. this was another chance to talk and this time Regina couldn't demand your presence. "need some help?" it seemed to take her by surprise as a handful of papers drifted to the floor. a small chuckle, you reach down to collect her work and hand it back. "how's your first day going?"

she shrugs, taking the papers. "it's alright."

"anyone giving you any trouble?" you ask, falling to lean against the lockers. people around here were not nice and took every chance to show it. some more than others. She shakes her head. "you sure? if anyone does anything, I can sort them out." you give her a knowing look and she offers a sort of amused smile. "so you do know how to smile, it's cute. are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to guess?"

"it's cady. Cady heron."

"well, cady heron. the trick to these," you tap her locker door with your knuckle. "is to push in and pull up before trying to open it. annoying, I know but they're old." you watch her try again and this time it swings open. "see."

"Thanks." you linger as they shove some of their stuff inside. you notice a few stray stickers on the locker opposite.

"no problem." you push up from the metal. "I can show you all types of tricks to get through this hellscape if you want?" she shuts her locker and you both start walking towards the exit. "number one tip, avoid Regina."

"Isn't she your friend?"

"yeah," you nod. "that's why I said it. She can be... a lot. surely Janis told you that."

Cady looks at you for a long moment. "something like that." you let out a chuckle. Janis probably told her what a massive bitch Regina was. they had a less than favourable history.

"I should go. I'll see you around Cady Heron." as you both go your separate ways, you can't help but glance at her as she walks away.

having a study period just before lunch was both an absolutely ridiculous idea and the best thing to happen to your schedule. it basically guaranteed you didn't do any work whatsoever and felt more like a two-hour lunch period. seems you shared it with the new girl because she was sitting at a table scribbling in a book alongside Janis who was doing her normal embroidery or whatever.

"if it isn't Cady Heron," you comment, taking a seat on the bench. her face brightens at the sight.

"where's the rest of the coven?" Janis asks, not even bothering to look up from her work. "wait- don't tell me, a house fell on them."

"you're so funny Janis," an exaggerated sarcastic laugh.

"I think I can hear children singing... ding... dong the witch-"

"So Cady, how are you enjoying north shore?" you interrupt loudly and the 'song' trails off.

"It's fine."

"you don't talk much huh?"

her mouth opens but falls silent as Gretchen approaches the end of the table. she shoots you a less than favourable look. your brow furrows a little.

"Can I talk to you," pitch a little too high to say no.

"Sure," a shrug. you look at her for a long moment waiting for her to continue.

"in private," Gretchen urges. with a roll of your eyes, you stand up. flashing a smile at Cady, Gretchen grabs your hand and drags you away before you can say anything.

"what are you doing?" whisper yelled at you.

"I was just talking." god this girl was dramatic. you take your usual spot. she sits opposite.

"to the art freaks?"

"dude, it's fine."

"no it's not." she urges quickly, shaking her head "You know how Regina gets."

"Regina isn't here?" and she wouldn't be until lunch. only you and Gretchen share this free period. usually, you spend it listening to her gossip about people. she could not keep a secret to save her life at least not when it came to anyone outside of you and your friends; even then it's dicey. fun for you though.

"All I'm saying is you need to be careful,"

"don't worry. I was only interested in the new girl."

"that's worse," you just roll your eyes. "Regina doesn't like her."

"Regina doesn't even know her," you argue. "none of us do. she's been here like a week."

Gretchen thinks the idea of even wanting to talk to Cady is blasphemy. that it's better to avoid her but you think she's overreacting. Cady hadn't established herself at this school yet. right now she is with Janis but tomorrow who knows? she could be cool. it's a matter of perspective.

a pretty perfect smile does little to distract from playful eyes as you approach her jeep. the blonde is in the driver's seat. one hand rested over the steering wheel. the other typing something on her phone. She had sent a message telling you to hurry up but on arrival, neither Karen nor Gretchen were even here yet. you toss your bag in the back, climbing into your usual spot behind the driver's seat. Karen is usually next to you. "sit in the front, weirdo," she comments. you don't bother with a comeback, just moving to the front passenger seat.

"Where are the others?" you ask, glancing at her. the soft glow of the afternoon sun kissed her skin beautifully. black shades hang on the end of her nose. She really was something to be admired. Regina shrugs and then tosses her phone down. the car roars to life and you're starting down the road before you can think any more about it. it's pretty silent at first. the sound of the radio filling the space. the lack of your two other friends acting as a buffer was sitting weirdly. this wasn't your first time alone with Regina but she's been so grumpy lately. whatever you say feels like an invitation.

"so you like the new girl?" asked casually as she came to an abrupt stop at a red light. you just forward, the seatbelt digging into your neck. it drags up a quick cough but that could also be from surprise. other than that first interaction where she'd summoned you from across the room, you had never spoken to Cady when she was around. Gretchen may be dramatic but she probably wasn't wrong and you really didn't feel like risking it.

"Sorry?" feign confusion was... a choice but it seemed like the better option here.

"you like the new girl," repeated calmly; her eyes drift to you as yours move towards the traffic light. was this the longest red light in history? "right?"

now it's your turn to shrug. you find Cady intriguing but you're not entirely sure if it's interested in the way Regina is implying or just because you were so bored of the every day. "she's cool." a scoff as she pulls away continuing down the road. "you've hardly spoken to her."

"don't need to," Regina didn't miss a beat. Cady definitely didn't fit into what she'd consider cool but then again, neither had you. not entirely anyway and now you're here. you hang out with the most popular people in school. went to the hottest parties. you were currently being driven around by the Regina George. you never understood why or maybe you did and just refused to accept it was that simple. you know what everyone else says. that it's because of the attention you show her. you wouldn't necessarily say they're wrong but everyone gave her attention. She did always say there was something special about you. "I thought you at least had standards."

the rest of the car ride is silent as you think over what she said and Regina keeps to herself. the music is the only thing, keeping you sane until you pull up at the George residence. you always forget just how big her house is until you're there. As you walk inside, her mum appears abruptly startling you a little.

"hey, ms. George."

"hey girls," she singsonged. "how was school?"

"fine," Regina shoots back.

"well if you need anything? a drink? some snacks? advice? I'm here,"

"I'd actually love an iced-"

"we're good," growled as she grabbed your wrist hauling you up the stairs. "don't bother us." a confused look but she didn't let go until you were firmly inside her bedroom. door slammed shut. the blonde tosses her bag down.

"you should really be nicer to your mom, she adores you," you say idly taking a seat on the end of her bed, placing your bag down.

"you should shut up because it's none of your fucking business."

jesus christ. you kinda regret the decision to come over. "I just wanted an iced tea. maybe a little snack."

"god knows you don't need it," Regina comments. wow. okay. she was in a mood.

"what's up with you?"

"I'm fine," she responds. "you're just being so fucking annoying recently."

"I haven't done anything?" you've not been acting any differently so you have no clue what she's talking about.

"just absolutely drooling over the new girl. it's embarrassing." she declares, taking a seat on the bed.

"I..." you stop yourself because you're more confused than anything else. "we've spoken like once."

"liar" she responds. "I know you've been talking all the time," fucking Gretchen. "do you think she's pretty?"

"Cady?" Regina nods. you shrug. "I guess."

"prettier than me?" her head tilts. you can't tell if she was jealous or fishing for compliments; neither was her style. so it was probably a trap.

"no." you wanna say she's being dramatic but that wouldn't end well. She doesn't say anything, hardly even reacts. just cold eyes. Is she expecting you to say more? "of course not." you're waiting for the ball to drop. for her to make a snide comment or something. anything was better than nothing. but it just never comes. she takes out her phone and starts typing. you fall back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. you both just sit in the quiet. you're worried about saying anything that'll lead to more insults. god knows what she is doing on her phone.

"you're so pathetic." Regina eventually says. you'd take offence if you weren't used to it; basically a term of endearment at this point. you can hear her moving but don't bother looking until she's towering over you. dark eyes and a small smile that would seem genuine coming from anyone else. a hand cups your cheek but no nails follow; it's gentle and slow as she runs her thumb over your skin. what was happening right now? "do you ever think about me?" you blink a few times trying to make sense of everything. why was she being so nice? why was she being so gentle? why did she ask that?

"what do you mean?"

a roll of her pretty eyes. "you know what I mean." you did but surely not.

"I... don't know what to say."

"Because I think about you," your breathing hitches as you sit up. looking at her properly. "those pretty eyes," she moves closer. "these lips," her thumb runs over your bottom lip. you swallow hard. "do you wanna kiss me?" you just stare back. a smirk as she ghosts your lips.

"say you wanna kiss me." this felt cruel. you lean in and she pulls back slightly. a finger pressed against your lips. her expression is colder now. sharp. "say it."

"I... wanna kiss you," you dare and that smirk quickly returns. removing her finger, Regina leans in and connects your lips. it's soft and slow. not at all like you imagined kissing Regina George would feel like... until the girl pushes into you and it's exactly like you imagined. fast. forceful. like she wanted to devour you. A hand pushes you back against her massive bed and she moves to straddle your hips. your heart is beating so loudly you wouldn't be surprised if she could hear it.

"still thinking about the new girl?"

"I never-" You feel her press a little harder against your chest so you change your answer. "no." Regina tosses her hair over one shoulder, and a finger under your chin pushes your head up.

"I don't think you should talk to her anymore," Regina states before leaning down to connect your lips once more. "understood?"

you're too caught up in the moment to really gauge how serious she was being so you nod. "good girl." whispered against your lips.

Regina George had always been a lot. She always demanded attention and you often gave her it. you weren't ashamed of that. She knew you'd do anything for her. As did most of the school.

"Hey," Cady suddenly appears beside you in the hallway. she seems a lot more relaxed around you which was nice to see. however, you have not spoken to them since that weird night with Regina. She wouldn't like it. plus Gretchen would probably snitch on you immediately. "so we should probably figure out a time to work on our project." you've been paired up for an assignment in American literature.

"We can do it today after school if you want?" she nods. "I'll meet you out front."

"hey Cady," Karen slides up beside you on the other side, instantly looping your arms. ever the pleasant company. you wonder if she just wanted to see you or get you away from Cady. probably the former.

"I'll see you later," you say to the new girl before turning to your friend. "what do you want?"

"you're coming to Connor's party Saturday?"

"Obviously,"

"I have the perfect-"

"no," you respond instantly. you loved Karen. she was genuinely the sweetest person you know. but at every party, she tries to give you a Karen Shetty special aka a makeover. and every single time you have to say no.

"but I have the perfect outfit for you."

"is it actually perfect for me or just slutty."

"Both," Karen states excitedly. "please," pleading eyes as she draws you closer, hugging your arm. "please please please."

a loud groan. "fine."

"Really?" her eyes light up and circulation quickly returns to your arm. you nod at her which leads to excited clapping. maybe it wouldn't be so bad. maybe it was the perfect outfit for you but also sexy enough to satisfy Karen.

"oh here," you reach into your bag and produce a homemade friendship bracelet. you'd been tutoring some younger students for extra credit but sometimes you just hung out with them. "made them with some of the kids so,"

"ah thank you," she takes it eagerly. you had one for Gretchen and Regina too. only one of them would appreciate it though.

"why were you chatting with Cady?" Karen asks, sliding on her bracelet as she takes your arm once more.

"we're doing a project together," you explain. "you were literally just in class with us Karen."

"oh yeah," she smiles brightly. "I'm starving." you chuckle a little and allow her to eagerly pull you towards the dining room.

you're sitting on the grass. Cady is talking in your ear as you stare into the distance. most students had gone home already. The rest were working on homework or projects or extracurricular activities. you arranged this meeting but god were you bored. no offence to Cady but you kinda wish you'd been paired with Karen so you could be fucking about right now and then rush the work the night before it's due.

"are you going to the party Saturday?" you ask idly.

"What party?"

"oh shit." you forgot she was hanging out with Janis and Damian who definitely wouldn't have been invited. "connor mckay is having a party. The dudes a mess, big house though. you should come,"

"don't think I was invited,"

"I'm inviting you."

"not sure that's how it works."

"Just come Cady," you insist. "you can bring Janis and Damian too if you want. everyone will be too fucked to notice."

"uh, thanks then" she smiles a little, glancing back at her textbook. "I'll think about it."

"you have to think about attending your first high school party?" you question. laying down on your back. "I'll be there," you turn your head to look at them. "it'll be fun." you watch her carefully and soon she smiles.

"Okay, yeah."

"well that was easy," should have just started by stating you'll be there. "Be careful, Cady." you tease, looking back to clouds passing by but you can't help but smirk a little. "I'll start thinking you like me."

sat in the back of Regina's jeep as she fixes her hair in the overhead mirror, Karen inspects your face while Gretchen is copying Regina by fixing her hair. "can we just go in," you insist, slapping Karen's hands away. "before I regret coming."

"Why would you regret coming?" Gretchen questions, looking around at you.

"I feel stupid,"

"you look amazing," Karen urges. "perfect."

"you would say that."

"stop whining," Regina insists. flipping up her mirror. "you look hot. now let's go."

finally. "I'm gonna get so fucked up," you state as you step out of the car. walking beside Regina with Gretchen and Karen a step behind. the party is already alive. started at six. It was eight.

you reach the point in every party where you just don't want to be there anymore pretty quickly tonight. you're suddenly so aware of how annoying everyone is. sat on the kitchen counter, you swing your legs back and forth as you sip whatever was in your cup. Gretchen gave it to you. the party passes around you like you're not even there until an all too familiar blonde appears. "you look sad," you'd mistake that for genuine concern if it wasn't Regina "Already at sad drunk, that's impressive."

"what do you want Regina?" she had basically ignored you since you arrived so why she suddenly thought you were worthy of her presence, you'll never know. Shane was the object of her disgustingly public displays of affection tonight. "thought you'd be too busy with Shane."

"god, you're so obsessed with Shane," a roll of her eyes as she takes the cup from your hand to help herself. you watch her as the red cup comes to painted lips. not a hair out of place. so perfect. Regina was perfect. it was annoying

"I invited Cady tonight," you state, snatching your cup back.

"ew. why? I thought we agreed you weren't going near Cady anymore," technically you did. practically it wasn't that deep. who cares.

"And Janis and Damian but mostly to get Cady here,"

"desperate to hang out with losers," Regina sighs. "is she here?"

you shrug. "too many people. too big a house. I haven't looked, to be honest."

"Well," a hand finds its way to your thigh, running up and then down softly. "if you're good tonight maybe I'll give you a little treat."

"don't," you push her hand away. "go back to your boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend,"

"well whatever he is," you jump down off the countertop. "you made it very clear that I'm not what you want."

"you're so dramatic," she pushes up too. "I hate when you get drunk."

"Whatever."

"fuck sake," Regina responds. "you act like I said we're together or something."

"you're such an asshole," you huff. "I'm gonna find Cady."

"good luck with that,"

there are so many people at this party. you're not sure who half of them even are but they all seem to know you as you stumble around after the new girl. a constant barrage of 'hellos' and 'you look hot' in various forms. it's tiring. annoying. and you're about to give up and go find Gretchen so she can rub your back to make you feel better when you spot her. She was looking as awkward as ever. "you came." shouted over the thump of the music

"yeah," her face lit up. "Damian too. Janis said she'd rather jump off a bridge than come so..."

"That sounds... exactly like her," you nod. "I like..." you glance at her outfit. Regina would hate it. you don't love it. "your outfit. very school teacher chic."

"Thanks," she replies. "I didn't have anything to wear so,"

"it's cool. I'm just happy someone here isn't gonna irritate me- do you want a drink?"

"Sure," she nods. "do they have juice?"

"uh... probably somewhere." who asks for juice at a party? "I'll check. stay here."

you wander off back to the kitchen in search of some juice. your first stop is the fridge which is very stocked. you briefly scan for anything open, sweet and edible before just grabbing a carton of fresh orange and deciding that will do. pouring her a glass before heading back. she's still in the same spot only a particular blonde in the tightest little black dress has decided to strike up a conversation. you immediately know something is wrong. Regina can't stand Cady. it's why you told her you admitted to inviting her so easily. You wanted to piss her off. you can't make out what is happening but as you make your approach the redhead leaves. Regina turns to you with a sugary sweet smile betrayed by her eyes. "hey baby girl, feeling any better?"

"What did you say to her?"

"why do you have a glass of" brow knitted as she tapped her nail against the glass. "orange juice?"

"What did you say to her?"

"who?" you let her have the glass and she takes a sip. a visible look of disgust. "is there anything in this?"

"It's just fresh orange,"

"what the fuck? are you trying to sober up or what?"

"it was for Cady," you explain. "what did you say?"

the blonde shrugs. "she just had to go. not my fault." you don't believe her. why would you? She has a track record of being a conniving person who'll make trouble just for the sake of it. it'd be naive to think she didn't do anything."

"Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch all of the time," you grumble loudly. a hand snaps around your wrist and suddenly you're yanked closer to her. hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"I let you off before because you were all sad and tragic but don't think you can ever talk to me like that," growled in your ear before she abruptly shoved you away. "Cady left. get over it."

"she only left because you said something,"

"she left because she realised you don't like her," the blonde snapped. such a pretty poison came in the form of Regina George as she turned her gaze on you. She was pissed but kept it quietly contained to just beneath the music so nobody else had a clue. "that you've just been stringing her along. pretending to be her friend. all because I wasn't showing you enough attention," she's close again. too close. she wasn't physically that tall but right she seemed massive as she loomed over you. her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. did she wanna kiss you or kill you? neither seemed smart. "she realised that you belong to me."

"I'm not a dog Regina."

"you sure about that," a mean glint in those pretty eyes. "you wanted my attention. you got it." she shoves the orange juice back in your hand. it's contents splashing your hand. "don't cry about it now." and with that she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd

// NEXT

#regina george #regina george x reader #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #renee rapp #mean girls fanfic #regina george fanfic

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 8 months

Text

Great Balls Of Fire

Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader 9k words (ik. i did it again. im sorry)

summary: It’s been four months since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw. Today's the day he finally comes back from his mission and you have more than one ace up your sleeve to surprise him with.

a/n: smut ahead. 18+ im serious theres smut theres a lot of smut. okay. as usual i will now list everything you may have to look out for

fancy ass lingerie, oral sex fem!receiving, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyre in a committed relationship theyve had the talk and all), a lot of begging, hair pulling, good girl's because yes, in general again bradley is a talker, otherwise that's it

top gun masterlist

It had been so long. It had been too long.

With the sun beating down hard on the pavement of the parking lot, the sunglasses on your nose doing their hardest to protect your eyes from the worst of the light, the sound of your heels clicking against solid ground as you took a few steps into the shade of the tree next to Bradley's Bronco. You had been waiting for ten minutes now, checking your phone what seemed like every five seconds, too nervous to actually pay attention to it but too nervous to keep calm either.

You had been so scared you would crash into a grandma on the way over here that you had honestly considered taking your own car instead of the Bronco - but Bradley had trusted you with it, had trusted you to keep his lady running, you, even though he never let anyone else as much as touch the steering wheel, and you would be damned if you didn't pick him up in it.

You hadn't seen him in four months. Four months.

You had been by yourself, had been on your own, had been lonely for four fucking months.

But today was the day you would see him again. Today was the day his oh-so-secret mission would finally, truly come to an end, the day that you would finally, truly see him again. Not over some low-quality video call in the middle of the night, with only your kitchen lights on in the background and your mind hazy and tired because he was nine hours ahead of you and seemed to be at the other end of the world - no, today you would finally, finally, finally see him in the flesh.

You'd been anticipating this moment for the past four months.

So this had to be perfect.

This would be perfect.

You had done everything possible to make this the most perfect day of his goddamn life. You had spent the last four months moving things from the old apartment to the new house - those things that you and him hadn't already moved anyway - and the past week, you'd been cleaning, decorating, anticipating.

He had told you so often how much he missed you. How much he wished he had been there for you, to help you pack the things, to help you take them apart and put them back together, to do more than just the paperwork and set up the bed and the couch.

But he couldn't. And now you were bubbling with nervous excitement, with the joy of sharing all of it with him, to show him the desk you'd put up in the bedroom, the pillows you'd bought for the couch, the paintings you'd hung up on the walls, the kitchen table you'd replaced, the kitchen tiles you'd painted. To show him how much better this new home was than the old apartment had been (even though you'd been very happy there for the past four years as well).

And Bradley would love it. You were sure of that.

You just wanted him to see it so desperately.

You looked up as another car approached - it wasn't Bradley, you knew that, Bradley would come out of that door opposite you, not out of a car, but... There was still some tiny little sliver of hope, the same way there had been every single goddamn time someone had rung your doorbell. It had only ever been the postman or your food.

The car stopped next to you. You watched the engine being turned off and the driver get out because, well, what else was there to do except nervously shift your weight from one leg onto the other and go insane?

So you watched the stranger hop out of their car, nodded politely at them and then refocused your attention on the tips of your sandals. At least you weren't the only one waiting here anymore.

You got out your phone again, checked the time (it'd been a minute and a half since you'd last looked at it) and let out a sigh.

It wasn't that Bradley was late. There wasn't really a "late" anyway, he'd only been able to give you a vague time he'd arrive on, but still. You'd been buzzing with nervous energy for over a week.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself, wiped your sweaty palms off on the sundress you'd put on - the tiny yellow sundress that Bradley had picked out for you on your birthday last year. The tiny yellow sundress that hid the sinful white lingerie under it just perfectly. The sinful white lingerie that you had bought for this very moment.

Bradley would go feral for it, you knew that. He loved white. You thought it was because it looked innocent, chaste. Like something untainted, something waiting to be ruined. Not that you minded. One day, he had promised himself, he would admit to you that it was because it looked like something you would wear on your wedding night.

But either way, you had gone shopping for the perfect set of lingerie and you were more than happy with your final choice.

Bradley could unwrap you like a present. You were desperately hoping he would unwrap you like a present.

You had spent the last four months not doing anything other than hoping. Imagining. Remembering.

So you weren't surprised that you felt like you'd soaked through those pretty (and expensive) panties already.

Your breath hitched. You shifted your weight again.

Bradley would carry you in his big, strong arms over the doorstep, would push you against the wall, would take everything he wanted from you and give everything you needed - he'd pull your dress right off and, at the sight of your lingerie, would fuck you raw.

You had to bite down on your lip to keep you grounded. Four months away had been a long, long time. Four months in which you'd only had yourself, your fingers, your vibrator to keep you company - four months in which you'd only heard Bradley's moans spill over the phone, had only heard him call you honey and good girl through a low-quality mic, had only seen him on pictures he'd left you, on a tiny screen at best.

You were depraved. And pretty sure you'd fall apart at the first touch.

You were so immersed in your thoughts, in that lovely imagery you had created in your head, that you almost missed the door opening. Finally. Finally. You straightened up at once.

It wasn't Bradley who stepped out first - it was one of his colleagues, you guessed, with blonde hair and much shorter - but it was Bradley who stepped out second. You'd know him from miles away.

He strode out of the door and into the sunlight, all familiar brown curls and broad shoulders and Ray-Bans on his nose and an Hawaiian shirt on and his bag lazily slung over his shoulder and that moustache - by god you'd have killed him if he'd shaved that off!

He turned his head and looked at you and a grin broke out on your lips, so wide, so incredibly wide that it felt like it'd split your face in half and before you could think, before you could form any coherent thought you were already moving, your legs with a mind of their own. You were sprinting towards him. Sprinting all through the parking lot, your heels click-clicking on the pavement, and Bradley grinned, grinned and let his bag fall to the ground carelessly, opened his arms instead. Wide, so wide. He was so tall. So broad. So inviting as you ran at him, as you jumped at him, as you wrapped your arms and your legs around him at the same time, as he caught you effortlessly, as your lips landed on his.

As you crashed into him, completely, and he didn't even stagger an inch back.

You had missed four months of this.

And now his lips were on yours. Your legs around his waist. Your arms crossed behind his neck. His breath against your mouth. His lips parted. His tongue against yours.

You were desperate. And you could feel just how desperate he was, too.

You could feel all the passion, all the fiery, red passion, all the force and firmness put into this kiss as his tongue ran along yours, as your breaths met and mingled, as his hands dug into your thighs to keep you upright, to keep you snug to him.

You pulled back incredibly reluctantly. You didn't want to let go of him. You never wanted to let go of him ever again. You wanted to have him, all of him, right here, right now, and then for eternity. But you couldn't, you couldn't because this was the middle of the parking lot, and also because you at least wanted to say hello first.

So you blinked open your eyes and took him in and allowed yourself to grin as broad and as wide as you needed to right now.

"You're back", you whispered, just because that realisation still had to sink in. "You're really back."

Bradley nuzzled your nose with his and let out a hum - god, how you'd missed him. The feel of him, the sound of him.

"Yeah, I'm here, honey", he muttered, that smile of his dripping down onto his voice. "I'm here and I won't leave any time soon."

You couldn't help but lean in again, couldn't help but capture his lips again because how else, how on earth would you let him feel all the joy you were experiencing right now? You didn't even know if you could actually feel all of it. You definitely wouldn't be able to put it into words. So you dug your teeth into his bottom lip and sighed into him and pulled him closer, closer and closer, even further into you.

"I missed you", you breathed against his mouth. "I love you and I missed you, Bradley."

He chuckled, kissed you again, drew back just enough to still touch you somehow, to still have his lips on your skin somehow and be able to talk at the same time.

"I love you so much, honey", he muttered. "And I missed you so much."

And then his lips were on yours again, his fingers digging even harder into your thighs, his breath and his tongue and his moustache scratching against your skin and you moaned, because there was no more anything you could possibly have done, because you couldn't help yourself, because you couldn't stop yourself, because you didn't want to either. You wanted to let him know just how goddamn fucking much you'd missed him.

Bradley had to bite back a laugh, pulled back and looked at you through his sunglasses.

"Sounds like we should get home, honey", he said, his eyebrows raised and his smile deepening with every word. "Been waiting for that for four months."

You let out another soft moan, pushed yourself even closer to him, dug one hand into the back of his hair and scratched the other down his shoulders, down his shirt. You wanted to feel him. All of him. God, the ride home would take ten minutes. Ten minutes. How were you supposed to survive that?

"Please", you whispered onto his lips, and you didn't think you had ever meant it as much as you did now.

Bradley groaned and kissed you again, quickly, heatedly, his tongue running along your bottom lip and then pulling back again. This wasn't enough. This wasn't enough.

He set you down on the pavement again softly, your legs a bit wobbly, unsteady, and trailed one hand from your thigh to your back - anything to keep touching you as he bent down to pick up his bag again. You smiled up at him, smoothed down the front of your dress and beamed as his eyes traveled down your body.

When they snapped back up to catch your gaze, the grin on his face had turned into a much more intense expression.

"You look gorgeous, honey", he muttered, tugging you further into his side, letting his eyes drop down to your chest again. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from jumping at him right this second. He should not have been allowed to just look at you if you couldn't have him touch you too. "Did you pick out new nail polish just for this dress?"

Your grin broadened. Of course he'd notice. Bradley Bradshaw was the only man in the whole universe who would notice. And he was yours.

"Yes, I did", you smiled, looking up at him as he walked with you back to the car. He hummed softly.

"It works great together", he said. Your breath hitched. He was gorgeous and he was here and he had noticed your nail polish. He was perfect. And you wanted him to fuck your brains out. "Reminds me of your burgundy silk dress."

You had to bite down on your lip again - god, you hadn't done that nearly as often when he'd been away! - to keep yourself grounded and to keep your grin in check before it could truly split your face in half.

Your burgundy silk dress was the one you'd worn to Penny and Mav's wedding two years ago that you had spent three weeks hunting down matching lipstick and matching nail polish for. Bradley had worn that lipstick on the base of his cock for most of the night.

"You're incredible, do you know that?", you asked, your voice a bit breathy. Bradley stopped in front of the Bronco, turned to you and pulled you close again. You brought your hands up to his chest.

"I've been told", he muttered, tilted his head down to look at you and then leaned down even further to brush a kiss to your nose. "Open up the Bronco so I can put my bag in the trunk?"

You let your eyes flutter close for just a tiny little moment (he was close, so close and you would literally die if he didn't start touching you any time soon) and breathed in as Bradley chuckled. You'd put the key in your pocket and were scrambling to get it out now, taking one, two seconds too long before you heard the familiar click of the car unlocking.

"Thanks, pretty girl", Bradley mumbled, letting go of you to pull open the trunk and you had to push down a sigh of disappointment, even as anticipation rose up in your stomach. You hadn't heard him call you pretty girl in months.

When he turned back around to you, you were still frozen in spot, still smiling dumbly at him, still waiting for him to touch you, to kiss you, to fuck you. He smiled back and you knew that he knew just what you were thinking. But you couldn't even begin to care. You wanted to get him home as quickly as possible.

"You need to stop looking at me like that, honey", he said, his voice an octave deeper and you just so managed not to let another dumb, pathetic moan slip. He closed the trunk and took a step back to you. "You know I can't help myself when you look at me like that."

At that, you did let the moan tumble from your lips after all.

He'd been away for four months. And he was looking at you with his eyes all dark and his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling heavily. How on earth were you supposed to be normal about this? You were falling apart already and he hadn't even got you home. Four months had been a long, long time.

His hands were on your waist then, forcing you against the side of the bronco, the door handle digging into your back, the metal warmed up by the sun and your arms crossing behind his neck as his body crowded yours, one leg between yours and no more space to touch, to feel, to see anything that wasn't him - he turned his head to check if the other car had driven away and then his lips were on yours, his knee pressing against your centre.

"Bradley", you moaned into his mouth, before his tongue brushed yours and rendered you speechless. You rocked against his knee, bare skin against your thighs and you wanted to sob, you really actually wanted to sob, because this was the most contact you'd gotten in four fucking months.

Bradley pulled back an inch.

"You're soaked", he groaned against your lips, his breath on your skin, his hands on your waist and you thrust your head back against the car, against the window, squeezed your eyes shut, kept on rocking against his knee.

"I know", you whined. "Been soaked for months."

Bradley let out another groan and pulled back, pulled away from you and you whimpered, blinking your eyes open again because you'd been so close to finally getting what you wanted and now he was taking that right away from you again. You looked up at him and the only reason you didn't straight up voice your disappointment was that he looked just as debauched as you felt - running his hands through his hair, running them over his face, his curls all messed up and a considerable bulge already visible in his jeans.

"Get in the car", he rasped, taking another step back from you as though he had to physically put distance between the two of you so he wouldn't give in and take you right in this parking lot. Not that you would've minded. That other car was long gone. But that he had to restrain himself so much, that he looked so positively exhausted, that his voice was so hard and so rough and so raw, that he had already, so easily begun giving you orders drove you crazy. Orders that you knew you had to follow because this was him, this was Bradley, and if he wanted something from you.... he'd get it. You'd give it to him no matter what. You'd give him everything.

So you pushed yourself off the car with a hard breath and trailed around to the passenger side, keeping your eyes on the ground even as you heard Bradley shuffle and open the driver's door because you knew that if you looked at him, no matter how much you wanted to follow his commands, there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to help yourself.

It wouldn't be the first time.

The seat felt hot and your skin sticked to it immediately and you would have cared in any other situation, but not in this one. Not when Bradley put his hand to your thigh, to your bare skin, to just below the hem of your dress. You could have cried.

He was here, finally, and he was touching you, finally, but he wasn't touching you enough, not nearly enough. This would be a long ten minutes. You pushed your sunglasses up into your hair, turned your head and rested it against the head rest, smiling at the image before you - Bradley in the driver's seat of his Bronco, the steering wheel in one hand, the sun on his face, his curls longer than when you'd last seen them. Had he got more tan? Was that possible?

God, how you'd missed this man.

And he was here now, here, next to you, with one hand on your thigh and a grin playing on his lips and you couldn't help but smile. Big and broad and all-consuming because he was here again, this man that you called yours, he was right here next to you after four months. You loved him. You'd missed him so incredibly much.

His hand moved a little higher up on your thigh, his thumbs brushing, stroking over exposed skin, raising up your dress the slightest bit. Your breath hitched.

"Bradley-", you sighed, jaw clenching as you melted, melted at every little touch because you didn't have to only remember it anymore. You could just push up into him, watch him, breathe in his familiar scent, run your fingers along his arm. This was no more imagining, no more picturing, this was real, this was happening.

"God, I missed you saying my name like that", he groaned, tightening his grip on your thigh and you bit down on your lip, wrapped your fingers around his biceps, his wrist, forced yourself to keep your eyes open so you could keep watching him. You wouldn't miss out on a single second of watching him.

"Bradley", you repeated softly. "I'll say your name as often as you want me to."

His fingers dug even harder into your thigh as he let out some strangled sounding moan.

"You're gonna be the death of me", he muttered - how often you'd thought the same about him! "I'm lucky if I can hold out these ten minutes."

You watched him quietly for a second. You could sense the heat radiating off of him, could see his clenched jaw, could feel his deathgrip on your thigh, could hardly ignore the blazing arousal in your own veins. But if he'd wanted to fuck you in the back of his Bronco, he would've. (As picky as he was about who drove his car, he'd never had a single problem railing you into oblivion in the backseat.) There was a reason he was holding out. You could only guess that he wanted to do this properly - with time and room and no risk of getting caught by the authorities. Should you have minded? Should you have begged him to take you as quickly as possible? You were sure he would have, if you'd pleaded prettily enough. But you were quite alright with time and room and no risk of getting caught. At least for right now. The both of you would manage a ten minute ride, right? You had managed four months. Ten minutes were nothing in comparison.

"Okay", you said, trailed your fingers down to his and intertwined your hands. "I'll help. I'll tell you something. Distract you."

"You can try, honey", he chuckled, sneaked a quick sideways glance at you. "Tell me about the house."

You lit up at that. You had been dying to tell him about the house. So you pushed your arousal deep, deep down (which was easier said than done) and smiled up at him.

"I don't even know where to start", you said honestly, giving yourself a second to think about it. You had ten minutes, after all. And you had to fill them all if you wanted both of you to survive this drive.

So you told him about everything.

The short version, of course.

He'd heard some of it over the phone already, but he hadn't been able to call often and you'd spent most of your time crying and telling him how much you loved and missed him when he had answered, so...

The ten minutes went by more easily this way. You went on and on and on and on about the house, his fingers between yours, your eyes locked on his, with the occasional comment about how sorry he was that he hadn't been there to help. It had been unfortunate, of course, but at the same time it had given you something to put all your time and effort into, which had greatly helped you through his deployment. Plus, there had always been help when you had needed it - Penny and Amelia and Mav, Phoenix and Bob and Jake. The rest of the squad had been scattered, called off to their own missions, but those six you had been able to count on whenever.

Bradley's hand on your thigh was still highly distracting. He moved it up and down a few times, and each time your breath hitched, each time you stumbled over your own words, each time he grinned again.

At one point, his fingertips brushed so close to your underwear that you pushed his hand forcefully back down to your knee. He had been the one so worried he wouldn't manage a ten minute ride and now he was the one teasing you.

Not that you really minded.

But you truly felt like going insane.

Then, finally! you caught sight of your driveway. Bradley was out of the car the second he'd parked it, pulling his hand from your thigh and the key out of the ignition and you had barely unbuckled yourself when he was already opening your door, taking your hand and tugging you out, sending you stumbling into him, into his arms.

He pressed his lips to yours as he pushed the door close, pushed you up against it again, pushed the hem of your dress up to grasp at your bare thigh. You wrapped your arms around his neck, forced him even closer.

"Bradley", you gasped softly. You hadn't moaned his name like that in four months, you'd do it so often today he would get tired of it. Even though you knew that he wouldn't, of course - he would never get tired of you whispering his name into his mouth, into the nothingness of an empty room, into his ear, into the pillows.

He didn't pull back from you, even as he took a slow, careful step away - making sure you'd catch on, making sure you'd follow, making sure to keep you safely, steadily against him. Not that you'd have done anything else. You trusted him with your life, you would trust him to keep you upright. So you did just what he wanted, followed, stumbled with him, eyes closed, lips on his, fingers brushing along his shoulders.

He did pull back then - just an inch or two, to turn you around, to look over your shoulder once, to tear his hand from your thigh and wrap his arms around you instead. And then his lips were back on yours again and his tongue running along yours. He pushed and you followed his wordless command, your legs working quicker than your mind, stumbling, tripping backwards, backwards, backwards and you barely cared, barely even acknowledged the ground beneath your feet because you were wrapped up in his arms, because you were tugging at his curls, because he was here, kissing you, finally.

You weren't needy.

You were desperate. You were depraved, frantic, starved. He was the air you needed to breathe and you hadn't taken a single breath in the past four months.

So you weren't pretending in the way you pulled him close, closer, closer, or in the frenzied way you kissed him, or in the desperate way you sighed, groaned, moaned against him, into him. You needed him. You needed more of him. All of him. You needed to get inside so you could have him.

You bumped into the door then, just short of digging the doorknob into your spine - Bradley pushed you right up against it and you gasped into his mouth, into the kiss. He crowded you against the door much like he'd crowded you against the Bronco, pulling his arms from around you to grasp your waist instead, to press your hips up to the door as well, and used one hand to fumble for the keyhole. He did so blindly, with his eyes still closed, his lips still on yours, with one of your legs coming up to wrap around his hips, your heels digging into his shorts.

Needless to say, he needed quite some time to turn the key.

You didn't mind. Not in the slightest.

You were making out with Bradley Bradshaw right on the doorstep of the house you shared with him, in the bright afternoon sunlight and truly, you couldn't have minded less. You didn't give two fucks about any of your neighbours or any passerbys spotting you - should they, by god! Bradley had come home from deployment after four months, you would make out with him on your doorstep for as long as you wanted to. You wouldn't ever stop making out with him ever again.

Not when he was here again, in your arms, with your fingers tugging at his hair, brushing along his neck, stroking along the collar of his shirt, sweeping along his shoulders. Not with your leg around his hips. Not with your lips on his. Not with anticipation, with arousal in every fibre of your body, of your soul. You were going mad with it. You were getting drunk on it.

You were euphoric when Bradley finally opened the gods damned front door.

He kept you safe and steady even as the support at your back broke away, as you almost crashed onto the floor of your own hallway. He walked you back into the pleasant cold and for once, for the first and probably the only time, you were the one to break away. You gave yourself a second to catch your breath. Then you pushed off of him completely. You took a step away, pulled the key from the door, pushed it close and when you turned back around, Bradley had set his sunglasses down on the little table you had put next to the coat rack a few weeks ago.

And you looked him in the eyes for the first time in four months.

He motioned at the table.

"Looks great, honey", he said, his voice a little too rough to sound quite normal. "Nice touch."

You shook your head softly.

"I couldn't care less about the table right now", you muttered, and with that, you were on him again. Actually, truly, fully on him again. You pushed yourself right up onto him, into him, pried his shirt off his shoulders, off his arms, let it drop down to the ground and then reached for his jaw to drag him further down, to deepen the kiss even if you knew that was impossible. So you bit down on his lip and allowed him to finally push your dress up over your hips, over your chest, over your head - you had to let go of him for a moment then, had to pull away from him so he could drop your dress on the floor and before you could even come close to reaching out for him again, he was taking a step back.

You could feel his eyes raking down your body. You could feel him taking in the white lingerie on your skin - the strings of the thong high up on your hips, intricate lace around your waist, the small bow right in the centre of it, the bra cups almost transparent, the floral white pattern covering up your nipples, the other few, small bows sown onto the straps.

You sucked in a breath at the look on his face. You hadn't seen that look in far too long.

"God, honey", Bradley groaned, reached for your waist, brushed his thumbs along the lace, ran his fingertips along the lingerie. You bit down on your lip as he pulled you, slowly, carefully, into him - gave you enough time to rest your hands on his chest, your palms against his tank top. "You look sinful. Did you buy that just for me?"

You nodded, swallowed.

"Just for you", you admitted. "Wanted to surprise you."

Bradley tugged you another inch closer, so close that your chest bumped into his, your breasts pressing against him. He let out a hum, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage.

"You did that, pretty girl", he muttered, his fingers digging into your sides. "You're incredible."

Then his lips were on yours again and you were melting, becoming putty in his hands, turning to goo in his arms. Your breaths met, lips parted. You couldn't quite believe you were finally touching him again.

He walked you back to the bedroom, narrowly avoiding the doorway, his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your bum. You reached for the hem of his shirt, forced him to stop right on the threshold so you could get rid of it - get rid of that one layer of fabric still in the way. You drew back for a second to pull it over his head, to drop it to the floor, to let your eyes travel all over his bare torso.

God, how you'd missed this man and his broad shoulders and his washboard abs. How you'd missed his touch and the sound of his voice.

"Bradley", you gasped softly, your fingertips trailing over his naked skin, down to his shorts. "I need you."

He let out a groan.

"I've waited four months for you to say that again", he muttered. You could hardly take another breath before he was on you again - lips on yours and hands on your hips and your back hit the bed a moment later, the cushy mattress, the fluffy pillows softening your fall.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows so you could watch him as he stood in front of your bed, the sunlight dripping down him like drops of water hitting the floorboards, his torso bare, his curls messed up, looking down at you with a heaving chest, his fingers on his belt, unhooking it, opening the button on his jeans, pulling down his zipper - you swallowed hard as you watched him drop his shorts on the floor, step out of his shoes.

A whine rolled off your tongue.

"Bradley, hurry up", you whimpered, your fingers cramping in the sheets, your legs pressing together all of their own accord, trying to get some kind of friction as he undressed himself in slow motion while you just lay there, your panties long soaked through and your fingers itching to trail down your own body.

Bradley chuckled.

"Don't worry, honey", he muttered, kneeling down on the ground to drop kisses to your calves before pulling off your sandals. "I'll make sure you forget about the past four months, alright?"

Your breath hitched as your heels hit the ground.

"Please", you begged softly. "I've missed you so much."

He wrapped his hands around your hips, pulled you to the edge of the bed - his breath ghosting over your underwear, over that tiny white piece of lingerie you had bought for him, for him to take you apart in. His fingers dug into your skin, spread out wide, to touch as much of you as he possibly could. He pressed a kiss right to that wet spot on your thong.

You let out a moan. God, how had you survived four months without him? You were barely surviving fifteen minutes of not having him fuck you.

Bradley grinned, raised his head to meet your eyes and seriously, you were close. Too close. He hadn't touched you yet, not really. You'd die today, you were sure, die and go to heaven.

"You look almost too good to undress, honey", he muttered, brushing his thumbs below that lace around your waist, not making a move to pull it down your legs.

"Bradley, please", you whined, your hands brushing over your own chest, running over your bra cups, tracing the flowers, desperately holding back from just ripping everything off yourself, pushing him onto his knees and riding him into oblivion. "Don't tease. I need you."

He groaned into the skin of your thigh.

"Anything you want, honey", he muttered - and then your thong was gone and he was burying his tongue inside you, dipping, tracing, licking, circling your clit, breathing you in, devouring you. Taking and giving everything. It had been four months since he'd had you like this and he wanted everything, every inch of you he could get. He wanted to taste you, every last drop of you, wanted to eat you out until you couldn't think anymore, until you had truly, fully forgotten all the time he had been away, all the time you had been forced to be on your own, alone.

You thrashed, moaned above him - your fingers clenching around your bra, brushing over your nipples. You were close. Close after the entirety of three seconds, close to tears, close to coming.

"Bradley", you choked out, tearing your hands off yourself, burying them in his hair instead - tugging him off, tugging him away from you. You took a deep breath as he let go of you, as he loosened his grip on you, looked up at you with desperation in his eyes.

"I need you to fuck me", you whimpered, already too sensitive, too tense. "I need you inside me."

You hadn't had him in four months.

Four months had been enough goddamn foreplay. As much as you loved when he ate you out, you needed him, you needed his cock, you needed to feel him inside you, you needed him to take you apart and make up for all the time lost.

Bradley nodded, nodded because he knew, he understood - he saw the frantic look in your eyes, had felt the desperate drag of your hands at his clothes, his arms, his shoulders, his hair. He'd give anything to you. Everything. He would do whatever you wanted of him.

Maybe in another situation he'd have made you beg more, would have teased you more, would have edged you a few times. Maybe in another situation. But not in this one. Not after four months of being away from you, not when you were so beautifully, so desperately spread out beneath him, looking up at him with wide eyes and rosy cheeks, your lip pulled between your teeth, your gorgeous white lingerie still concealing too much of your skin.

As he'd said, you were almost too gorgeous to undress. But just almost.

So he rose up from the ground, pulled you up with him, pulled you in, his fingers brushing along your sides, your spine, your bra clasp. He let it fall open. You worked fast, worked your bra down your arms and off your hands and drew back from him to fling it against the wall and lay down on the bed, lay down all pretty and waiting.

You needed him to fuck you. Now.

He let out a groan, closed his eyes. The look on his face had you pressing your legs together again. Wetness was coating the inside of your thighs now. It glistened on his moustache. And you were sure you could have tasted it on his tongue too.

He was making you go insane.

"How do you want me, pretty girl?", he asked, pressing his knees into the side of the mattress. "Tell me how and I'll do whatever you want."

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your nerves were bubbling up. Four months. You'd waited four months for this one question.

"Behind", you whined. "Need you from behind."

Bradley had known, of course, because that was what you always said when he stood at the front of your bed and asked you this question. His hands were on your waist, grasping, grabbing, turning you over before you had fully finished speaking, your cheek pressed against the pillows, your breath coming short and shorter, adrenaline pumping through every single one of your veins. You felt hot and sticky and needy and nervous.

Nervous because Bradley stilled.

Nervous because he sucked in a sharp breath.

Nervous, even though you had been here a million times before, in his bed and in yours, bent over desks and bars and couches, with the heat of him behind you, arousal flowing through your body like oxygen, anticipation clouding your mind.

"Shit, honey", Bradley breathed.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw.

How you'd have loved to see his expression. But you had known you wouldn't. You had prepared yourself to be satisfied with the sound of his voice, with the feel of him so close to you.

"Shit", Bradley repeated. He took another deep breath in. "You got a tattoo?"

A tattoo.

Your tattoo.

You nodded into the pillow, scraped your cheek against the fabric, so eager, so quick to agree. Four months you had waited for this. Four months since you had begun planning this - the very day after he'd left, in a conversation with none other than Phoenix. Four long, lonely months.

Bradley ran his thumb along the soft expanse of your skin. Along that strip of skin right above your hips, just where they met your back - right above your ass, right where he could see so very perfectly.

He was gentle. Almost not touching you at all. As though he was afraid he could somehow, even after all this time, hurt you, as though he was afraid he could wipe it away.

"It's healed", you whined, breathlessly, trying your hardest not to squirm, not to push back further into him even though you felt like you were going insane. You'd known he'd take his sweet time staring at that inked expanse of skin. But you hadn't known you would be so goddamn desperate for him to fuck you into delirium while he did so. "It's fully healed."

Bradley was quiet, silent behind you. His thumb stilled, stayed still. You sunk your teeth into your lip.

You would truly go mad here. For more than one reason now.

Bradley was always loud. Always moving, always doing something. He was forward and honest and loud and it was a miracle, really, when he wasn't. When he was calm and quiet and still. It didn't always mean something good.

It surely didn't always mean something bad, either.

But it didn't always mean something good.

And you hadn't been nervous. You hadn't been nervous about showing him, because you knew he loved you and he'd love this - this show of him, this show for him. Just for him. But you had still been fidgety. You had still been excited, flustered.... nervous, after all. In a good way. Now, good was turning to less good because he was quiet, for once, quiet and you didn't know what to do, what to say. You had expected him to go feral, had expected him to fuck you raw, to go absolutely ballistic. You had imagined, pictured, visualised it, four months long. Every night that you hadn't been remembering him, you had been imagining this - this moment right here, where he read the words inked forever into your skin, and every time, again and again, your fingers hadn't been enough, your vibrator hadn't been enough, nothing had been enough. Not in comparison to him, to his fingers and his tongue and his cock.

And every time, again and again, when nothing had been enough to replace him, you thought to yourself just how right it had been to have lain on that leather table bed in that tattoo parlour four months ago. Just how right it was to have him marked on your skin like that. Forever.

Great Balls Of Fire.

"Bradley, please", you whimpered, your fingers closing around whatever piece of fabric you could manage to grab at - the covers, the sheets, the pillows. "Say something. Please"

Bradley let out a long breath.

"Great Balls Of Fire?", he asked quietly, his fingers brushing over your skin again. Some kind of reassurance, at least.

"Thought you'd like it", you mumbled into the pillow, stumbling, tripping over your words a bit, still breathless around the edges. You couldn't be expected to talk now. Not when he was so close to giving you what you needed.

"Like it?" His hands wrapped around your waist, his left thumb still stroking over those unfamiliar familiar letters on your skin - Great Balls Of Fire, in his handwriting, taken from one of his sheets of music, from his piano. His song. His father's song.

Your song.

"Honey", Bradley rasped, pulling you an inch back to him and you let a whine fall from your lips. You were soaked, you were dripping, you were desperate and still so very unsatisfied. "Do I like it? I love it. I love you. God, you got a tattoo. You're incredible. You're-"

He stumbled over his own words, trailed off, left his sentence hanging unfinished in mid air. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss right on top of your tattoo. Right on top of those letters, on top of that song, on top of your song. On top of the very reason you had met, six years ago in a stuffed navy bar.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me", he muttered, dropping another kiss onto your skin.

You whimpered again.

"You've been so good to me, honey, haven't you?", he went on, as though he wasn't hearing those little whines, those little moans rolling off your tongue. He was. You knew that. "You waited so prettily for me to come back, didn't you? You were so eager for me to be home again, so eager for me to be with you again that you even got a tattoo?"

You nodded along, nodded and nodded and kept on nodding because yes, yes and yes - yes to everything, yes to him.

"You got a tattoo just for me, honey. You can't even see it. Probably had to twist and turn in the mirror every day to take care of it, didn't you? And all just for me."

You nodded again - never really stopped nodding, not with his fingers brushing along your back, over your skin, with his voice so deep and rough and real.

"Just for you", you whined.

Bradley chuckled.

"Just for me", he repeated, his voice deeper than before - if that was even possible - his fingers stroking along your sides, roaming over your back, your spine. "Such a good girl."

A shiver went through your entire body at that - through your legs, your arms, your shoulders, through every single one of your fingers and toes. He knew just what he did to you when he said that.

He knew.

"Bradley", you moaned, unashamed now, the nerves in your veins long subsided, replaced once more by that all-consuming heat that you could never get enough of.

"Yeah, honey?", he asked. You could hear the grin on his lips. "What do you want?"

You let out a sort of sob that sounded pathetic even to your own ears. It wasn't that you minded begging. Because you didn't. You really didn't. But you had already done so, had already begged him miserably, had told him so prettily how you wanted him to fuck you. And he was starting all over again.

"Just once more, honey", Bradley whispered, dropping kisses to your spine, climbing higher and higher. "Tell me once more and you'll get whatever you want."

"Fuck me", you cried out, burying your face in the pillow, not letting even half a second pass by. Bradley always made good on his promises. And you needed him more than anything right now. "Please fuck me."

He was on you within a heartbeat.

One hand around your waist, pulling you into him, as the other one guided himself into you. He pushed into you in one smooth movement, pushed his hips right to yours, stretched you out like he hadn't in four goddamn months.

You were clenching around him, moaning his name, tears brimming in your eyes at the feeling of him again, finally. He was grunting, groaning behind you, his hands clasping around your waist as he settled deep inside you and let out a breath.

You hadn't felt so stretched out in so long. You hadn't felt him in so long. You needed more. You needed to feel more of him.

"Bradley", you whimpered. "Move."

His fingers dug even firmer into your sides. You bit down on your lip. He felt so good, so heavenly with his hands on your skin and his cock deep inside you, but you needed him to move, you needed him to move now, you needed him to fuck you and make you fall apart for him.

"Need a second, honey", he grunted, running his thumbs along your skin - along your new tattoo, just for this, just for him. "God, pretty girl, you're so tight. Missed you so much."

You whimpered underneath him, whimpered as you forced yourself to keep still for him, even as your thighs burned with the need to move, the need for more, the need to finally come undone around him. You knew you were close already. You could feel it, had been feeling it, dancing around the edges of your perception, melting in your blood, scorching in your stomach.

"Missed you too, Bradley", you moaned into the pillow, breathless and desperate for him. "Want to be good for you. So good."

"God, honey, you are", he groaned. "So good. Perfect."

And then he was moving, finally, and you let out a sobbed kind of prayer, your eyes falling shut, your fingers digging into the sheets as he thrust in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm - enjoying the feeling of you around him, letting you enjoy the feeling of him inside you.

Just that you couldn't enjoy this.

You couldn't enjoy this because you were wound so tightly, wound so goddamn tightly that tears were pricking in your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks and drop onto the covers. You needed him to make you fall apart, to make you come, you needed more. Just a little more.

You were teetering on the edge and he had you spiralling with how slowly he was fucking you. You needed him to send you over that edge, not build it higher and higher and higher up.

"Bradley", you whined, stumbling clumsily over his name as he ran a hand up your back. "More."

"Dunno if I can-" He broke off, his breath hitching, his fingers resting on your neck, brushing through your hair. "Fuck, honey, dunno if I can do more without coming."

You bit down on your lip at that, let out a moan so absolutely filthy that you were sure you would have been embarrassed of it if you'd had any more capacity to think - to think of anything other than him, anything other than how this god, who could fuck you for hours on end without tiring once, with so much stamina he could have you sobbing, coming for him four, five times on his cock alone, how this god was so desperate for you after four months that he was worried he'd come if he went any faster.

You were almost pushed over the edge just by that alone.

"I don't care", you cried, because you really didn't. "I don't need long, I need you. I'm so close."

Bradley grunted, his fingers brushing even higher up on your scalp.

"You're gonna be the death of me, honey", he muttered, just before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up onto your knees - into him, into his arms, your back flush to his chest. You dropped your head against his shoulder with a moan, let your eyes fall shut again.

He thrust up into you with vigor then, with more urgency, with less fear of coming undone, less fear of cutting this short. His hands smoothed over your sides, over your chest, holding you up against him, brushing along your breasts, along your stomach.

And all you could think was yes, this, this was it. This was what you had been imagining, what you had been picturing in a cold, lonesome bed every night, what you had been so desperate for.

His fingers trailed down your thigh, trailed up again, caught on your clit, drew a circle against that little bundle of nerves and you fell forward, doubled over, only held up by him, by his arms around you as you came undone, as you clenched around him.

Four months.

Four months and a tattoo.

And he hadn't even had you there for two minutes, had barely touched you, and now you were falling apart for him, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, legs burning, fingers cramping. You'd waited four months for this.

You could feel him spilling inside you, noticed it somewhere dancing around the edges of your perception as you gasped for breath, tears stinging your cheeks and your nails digging into your own thighs.

This.

Him.

Bradley's finger had stilled on your clit. You blinked your eyes open, refocused on your green wallpaper, on the pictures, the old vintage polaroids of you and him right above the bed until you could see them all clearly again, until you could see them and realise what they were, until you could manage to tilt your head back and rest it, once more, against Bradley's shoulder. Until you had come back to reality again.

"I missed you so much, honey", he muttered into your ear, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss onto your exposed neck. "Missed this so much."

"Missed you so much too", you mumbled, reached for his hands. He pulled his finger from your clit, let you intertwine your hands with his, rested them carefully on your stomach. "Love you, Bradley."

He pressed another kiss to your neck, his lips warm, oh so warm on your skin, soft and warm and you needed him to kiss you now, to press his lips to yours.

"I love you too, honey", he whispered, halfway to brushing another kiss onto your skin when you turned your head, met his lips with your own, cut him off by surprise.

This was a weird angle, you had to strain your neck to even slot your lips together somewhat well and you were sloppy with it, too, your chest still heaving and your mind returning to clarity just now, but you didn't care, couldn't care, not when he'd just made you come, when he was holding you in his arms, when he was finally here, right behind you again, as though the last four months hadn't happened at all.

When you pulled back, you were feeling more normal again - as normal as you possibly could feel, with him behind you, with him inside you still.

"You got a tattoo", Bradley breathed, a grin dancing around the corners of his lips. You chuckled.

"Just for you", you nodded, brushing your fingertips up his arms, up to his elbows.

Bradley kissed you again, all parted lips and breathing into each other. You felt almost melancholic when he drew back. But he was smiling - and when he smiled, you had to smile too.

"I'm never letting you go again", he said, loosened his grip on you to trail his hands slowly, softly down your body, giving you enough time to steady yourself without him holding you up anymore. "And I'm not letting you leave this bed until the sun comes up, alright, pretty girl?"

You had to bite down on your lip to keep from grinning, anticipation already bubbling in your veins again. You knew he could make good on that promise. And that he probably would.

"Yes, please, Bradley", you muttered, already bending down again, splaying out your hands to catch yourself on the mattress as you showed him your tattoo again, just for him to see, just for him to touch. Just for him. "Whatever you want. As long as you want. I love you."

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #x reader

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fuxuannie · 11 months

Text

↳ pairing : miles morales x reader

↳ synopsis : shenanigans with your favorite classmate :) (maybe even a secret crush)

↳ authors note : i'm rlly trying to expand through fandoms, plzzz don't leave i promise i still write hsrr ;o; !!!!! i'm gonna be on a LONG atsv brainrot plz <\3 wuts a proof-read idk what that iz (/j)

MILES MORALES was the new student two years ago, some people thought he was an oddball since the first day encounter with his dad.. but you didn't really mind it honestly. You had much more important matters to attend to, like not listening to gossip.

After learning he was in some of your classes, you decided to try and get to know the guy. He seemed pretty cool, and you never passed an opportunity to know someone new.

"Morales, right?" Miles hears from behind him, it's currently lunch and so he turns his head to see you standing there with a tray in hand. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Since that day, you two hit it off like crazy, with sharing interests and hobbies it wasn't hard to talk every single day and run out of things to talk about.

"So, my Uncle Aaron took me to this crazy place like 2 years ago maybe? But yeah, it's where I did one of my first graffiti art." He explained, leading you through the dark traintracks while holding your wrist so you don't lose him in the darkness. "Sounds cool! Is it the same one that you used in your essay?"

You listen to the echo of his laughter. "Yeah, it is.. He was a great man, made me who I am today."

The way he talks fondly about his Uncle makes your heart sting a little. Though you were never able to meet him yourself, the way Miles talked about him to you made it clear he was a man who loved his nephew like he was his own son, and it was like you could emphasize with his pain of losing him.

However your thoughts are interrupted at the loud sound of a light switch turning on, illuminating the room and different graffiti art drawn on the walls. Miles laughs at your breathless expression, admiring the way your eyes seemed to glow at the art all around you.

"Heeey, look at that!" You chuckled, pointing at the 'Expectations' graffiti you brought up earlier. "You were so much shorter back then.." And Miles rolled his eyes at that comment, knowing that you were referring to the silhouette on the wall. "Very funny."

Then you realize theres a section of the wall thats covered with cloth, and he notices how you take notice of it. Miles immediately clears his throat, puts a hand behind his neck and looks at the ground. "Oh, uh.. that's a work in progress. I wouldn't want you to see i-"

Suddenly his spidey-senses go off, the second he looks up he already sees you right infront of the wall and about to touch the cover. "(name)!"

Pulling it off, it reveals a wall full of.. you? You were surprised that the details were down almost perfectly, your nose shape, your eyes and your smile. It was all so perfectly done that in a way it could either be flattering or a tiny bit creepy.

Of course, Miles being your best friend, you may or may not sketch or write about him every now and then (or rather all the time) depending on which one you felt like doing, but he didn't have to know that.

"I'm.. honored?" You laugh, looking back at your poor friend whos pulled his hoodie over his head and his hands covering his face. "Oh, come on! It's not that embarassing- And it looks good I promise!" You tried to reassure him, but the boy has no intentions on budging.

"I forgot I had that." Miles mumbled to himself, ignoring how you pull on his arm to try and get him to show himself.

At some point you've given up, and let the guy wallow in his own embarassment for a while. Your attention shifts back onto the art wall, seeing the several doodles and actual art pieces that you can only assume Miles was working on for the past 2 years you two were friends.

The much smaller doodles were your favorites, ones where he made you a tiny little creature were the cutest ones, and at some point you noticed how so many of them involved.. him. He drew tiny moments of you and him holding hands, going on walks, sharing earphones and little cliche date stuff.

You were about to say something, but are stopped at the realization Miles was right next to you while his eyes never seemed to break contact from yours. "Miles?" You say in almost a whisper, seeing how focused his gaze was on you.

"I mean, we're both smart enough to realize it.. right?"

The urge to play dumb was strong, it really was, but Miles could see through you like he was staring at glass. That's how well he knew you, and how transparent you were with him.

"And maybe I'm stupid enough to make up delusions in my head but.. do you.. feel the same?"

The question leaves you stunned, stammering to find an answer, but the serious facade Miles kept up melts at your nervous reaction. He begins to laugh, digging through his pockets and pulls out a paper you recognize all too well, it had to be either a drawing or a poem you had written for Miles and considering one of your recent ones going missing.. if what he had in his hands was that one, it gave him more than an answer.

That realization makes you gasp, and Miles' laughter only grows stronger as you've now realized what's happening in its full extent. Miles liked you, and he knew you liked him too.

"You cheeky-" You try to grab the paper from his hands, but the tall piece of shit tip-toe's just to make sure you couldn't grab it. "Whaat? What am I, hm?" He'll playfully taunt at you, still unable to control his smile as he knows that deep down you enjoyed this banter just as much as he did.

You two continue to playfully argue for a while, laughter echoing throughout the abandoned area as hours passed on and on. The talk about either ones feelings never came to light, but you two were content with the moment, and in another time you'd talk about the confusing thing that is the feelings you both mutually share.

You had all the time in the world, right? Miles Morales wasn't going anywhere.

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #atsv x reader #miles morales x you

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marvelouslizzie · 1 year

Text

Trust In What Tomorrow Brings - Co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: After your first date with Bucky Barnes, you two spend some time alone in your apartment. That's when you realize you actually want to keep him.

Pairing: 40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, second encounter, teasing, pet names, sir and sergeant kink, a tiny bit of mommy kink, mentions of past relationships, mentions of trauma, protected and unprotected sex, praising dirty talking mixture, dry humping, ripped clothing, face riding, blowjob, rough sex, multiple orgasms, light punishment, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 11.9K

A/N: This is technically a second chapter to You’re My Desire but you don't need to read the first chapter to understand what's going on since this is their second date. We actually planned it as a one-shot but somehow 40s Bucky and this universe didn't want us to be done. So here we are with a sequel. We kinda went overboard with it because we just want Bucky to have a little bit of a good time in the middle of the war.

Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's a great writer and a talented creator in general.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the fourth paragraph of the story.

You may wanna read You're My Desire first

"This is absolutely crazy. They are all yours?" Bucky's fascinated smile is so cute that you smile, too.

“Oh yeah, I have been collecting books for a long time.”

"What's this?" He takes a book with a white cover that had no title or author written on it and analyzes it carefully.

“No, no, no.” You immediately try to take it back. “That’s not for your eyes, mister.”

"What?" Bucky snorts. "Is that your diary or what?"

“No, it’s not my diary.” You try to take the book back again, but you're not successful.

"Then why not?" He is even more curious now, turning his back a little to you to open it. "Even a dedication, huh? Is it from an old lover?"

“No, it’s not. Come on, give it back.”

He sighs, not wanting to push you and hands you the book. "Okay, sorry."

You didn’t expect him to give up this easily. His consideration makes you wanna share a little bit more with him. So you open up a page and show him.

“This is why you aren’t supposed to see this.”

He was careful not to hurt her as he pushed her.

Her skin was so soft under his touch that nothing matters anymore.

"Oh god," Bucky covers his mouth. "Is the whole book like this, doll?"

“Pretty much.” You giggle a little, amused by his cute reaction.

"Wanna read it to me?" He winks.

“You can read it yourself if you wanna learn a thing or two.”

"Excuse you?" Bucky raises his eyebrow. "Are you questioning my skills now?"

You throw your head back, laughing, and Bucky crosses his arms with a frown as he watches you.

“I’m teasing you.”

"Sure." He puffs. He knows you have experience, but what if he doesn't keep up to your expectations?

“I’m really teasing you. Half of the things they do sound unrealistic.”

"Give me an example." His voice is somehow a little vulnerable.

You take a big breath, already regretting this. “Let’s see: having sex underwater like crazy. The girl is… wet for hours. They are going at it all night, and the guy comes several times in a row.”

Bucky snorts, coming closer to you. "Does he have the super super serum? Because that's not biologically possible."

“That’s exactly what I meant.“

"Yet you still read them. Who wrote this?"

“There aren’t many options when it comes to these kinds of books. The author is not written as you can see.”

"How do you find them though?" He's genuinely curious.

“Mostly we borrow from each other. This one is my favorite so I bought a copy.”

"We? Who's we?"

“Girls. Exchanging books.”

Bucky's eyes glow all of a sudden. "Like a book club?"

“Yeah, like a book club.” You can’t help but smile at how excited he is.

"Oh god. Is it only for girls?" He tries to calm down a little, but this is so interesting he can't control himself.

Your smile turns into a full laugh. “You wanna read erotic books with girls?”

Bucky groans embarrassed as he covers his face. "No, of course not. I was just wondering. I can read erotic books with my girl."

“Your girl?” You raise your right eyebrow playfully.

"Aren't you?" He drops the hand from his face to grab yours.

“It depends on you.” You really wanna kiss him, but you hold yourself back.

Bucky surprises you by grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your book falls on the floor, but neither of you cares as he kisses you gently. "Want to be my girl, doll?"

“Yes, yes.”

"Are you sure? I can't make love to you the whole night," Bucky says amused.

You laugh. “I don’t think I would survive that even if you could.”

He joins you in laughter. "I'd probably die mid-thrust."

“You know what, though?”

"What?"

“I didn’t think having sex against the wall was realistic. You know, carrying the other person the whole time while thrusting. I thought that no more than 2 or 3 minutes could be possible, but you proved me wrong.”

Bucky looks at her surprised. "Really?"

“Yeah, really. I still don’t know how you did that.”

"I just held you. I'm a soldier." He brushes it off. "Maybe your... friends need to exercise more."

“My friends?” You repeat in a joking manner.

"Special friends."

“I don’t have any special friends.”

"Doll," he groans. "You know what I mean."

“I know and I never had any special friends.”

Bucky sighs. "Your previous... partners."

“I just had one partner, and he wasn’t a special friend. He was my fiancé.”

"Oh?" He feels like a total fool for assuming that. The word engagement, though… That burns a hole in his stomach. "Your fiance? What happened?"

“He got drafted, and then I found out he was cheating on me. So I broke off the engagement.”

Bucky can't believe it. How could he do that? "Wow, I'm sorry. I have no idea what to say. When did it happen?"

“Over a year ago.” You offer a little more information with a bitter smile. You're glad you found out then. It would have been a mess if you had gotten married before that. “It’s okay. You already said more than he ever did.”

"I..." Bucky takes a step back. You're probably still in pain. Maybe even in love or regretting what could have been. He doesn't know how to process this. "I'm sorry once again."

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “And look, I know what kind of impression I gave you on that first date. So if you don’t believe I only had one partner before, I understand it.”

"That's not... I frankly don't care how many partners you had. That is the last thing I'd ever care about. What we did was to follow our needs." He sighs. "But I want to know what you really want us to be. Because I am not sure I would be the right guy to mend your heart only."

He wants a whole lot more.

“I am not expecting you to mend my heart, Bucky.”

"You talked about pain," he says naively.

“Pain that happened in the past. I’m not in pain anymore.”

"Oh." He slaps his forehead. "I'm sorry. I misunderstood, I guess. I was surprised because we have a connection and I felt like you liked me back, so hearing that you suffer..." Bucky's eyes soften. "He's an idiot. He never deserved you. A coward and a horrible man. I am sorry you had to go through this."

You wrap your arms around his neck. “You think we have a connection, huh?” You ignore the rest. You don’t wanna think about the past anymore.

"I hope you feel it, too." He sounds so shy and vulnerable you can't help yourself but smile.

“You are in my apartment all alone. What do you think?”

"I think we should dance."

“Dance?” You are surprised by his sudden suggestion.

"Yes. I mean, I am not a great dancer, but I’m decent enough. Can we?"

“Yeah, of course. We should put some music on first.”

"You have a record player?! He doesn't even try to hide his shock and excitement anymore, so you grab him by his hand and drag him toward your record player.

You watch him staring at the big pile of records on the table.

“I have my apartment now, so I can spend my money on books, records, and stuff to cook.”

"Can you adopt me?" He jokes, without taking his eyes off your record player. "Wanna be my mommy? You can be my special young mama."

“Oh?” You try really hard not to smile, a little confused. “How does that work?”

"How do you think it works?" He's not even trying to sound seductive, but he still does. You have to take a deep breath, trying to keep your excitement down.

“I really don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

"Hmm, maybe another time. How about we dance?"

“Okay,” you say and you start to go through your records until you find Frank Sinatra. You put the record on and manage to find There Are Such Things really quickly.

"I love this one! You have a treasure here, doll." You extend your hand out and wait for him to take it so you two can start dancing. "Wanna sway with me, ma'am?" He finally takes your hand and brings you closer.

“I would love that.”

You're not surprised he's a good dancer. You expected this to be honest. But his goofiness, his funny faces, the way his voice feels so pleasant as he sings the lyrics… You feel shy to sing along when he's such a good singer, so you only hum against his chest.

He is warm and strong under your touch. It makes you remember the time you were much closer than this. You wondered what got into you that day, why you acted the way you did. He’s just intoxicating, and you would totally do it all over again.

"What are you thinking about?” He looks at you. “You seem distracted. Wanna do something else?"

His voice takes you back to reality. You are ashamed to admit you were thinking about sex, so you snuggle against his chest.

“No. Let’s keep dancing.”

"Only if you tell me what got you so distracted." You feel his lips on your head as he speaks.

“Your touch.” You try to be honest but also not expose yourself completely.

"What about it? Already tired of it?" You know he does it intentionally. He's so easy to read at this point.

“Yeah, so tired of it, that’s why I wanna keep dancing.” You try to surpass the urge to smile.

Bucky snorts, unable to contain himself. "All types of dancing?"

“How many types of dancing do you know, Sergeant?”

"One that you know for sure, too. We practiced it before." The change of tone is so obvious, and his hands fully wrap around your hips, pushing you more against him. He's so hard.

You look up, not moving away from his chest when you realize you aren’t the only one thinking about sex just because you are dancing. It’s a relief.

“I thought we were doing a regular dance,” you say, but the smile on your lips is giving away your actual feelings about this situation.

"Isn't this regular?"

"If you want it to be."

"Sounds good to me."

"Where should we dance, though? Kitchen? Bedroom? Here? Bathroom?" You start to laugh. He’s such an idiot. "Floor?" He joins you and starts to laugh as well.

“Floor?” You frown. “I think we deserve a bed this time.”

"I was teasing you," He lifts your chin to kiss you properly. "Thought you liked it rough."

“It can be rough in bed.”

He groans at the thought of taking you hard in a soft bed. "I might break it, doll."

“I bet you could.”

"Is that a challenge?" You love the subtle tone in his voice.

“No, it’s a prediction.”

And just like that you finally realize the music has stopped, only the sound of the needle-moving breaking the silence.

"Should we, uhm, play another or…?" He asks curiously, letting you go.

“We can, but I am a little hungry. We can listen while eating, and you can choose the time. How does that sound?”

Bucky's eyes widen. "That's perfect."

"I love this. Where did you get it from?" He's playing with the bracelet you're wearing as he eats another strawberry, laying on the couch next to you. It feels so natural, like you did this a million times before, yet still exciting.

“Oh, this?” You move your arm a little, but not away from him. “It belonged to my grandmother.”

"It's so beautiful, a perfect fit for you."

“She told me my grandfather gifted this when they got engaged.”

"Rich." He can't help himself but comment. "Sorry, I mean it's really beautiful, but also kind of expensive. He must have loved her very much." Then he places a small kiss on your wrist, right below your bracelet.

You laugh a little. “How do you think I could afford all this stuff?”

Bucky clears his throat, nervous. "You have a point, I just don't think about money. I don't come from a rich family."

“If you were, you wouldn’t be fighting in this war.” Your tone is suddenly more serious than you intended.

"So you don't mind going out with a nobody?" He sighs, just as serious.

“You are not nobody. Not to me!” You caress his cheek. “You are James Bucky Barnes.”

He melts under your touch immediately. He doesn't remember the last time he felt this type of warmth.

"You're so sweet."

“Wait. Does this mean…” You aren’t sure how to ask, but his comments about being rich remind you of the conversation you had not long ago. “The adopting or mommy thing you said. Does it mean this?”

He laughs so hard you can't believe it. Did you misunderstand? Is it not what it really means?

"I don't know, mama. What do you think that means?"

“Oh, come on! I have no idea and you know it!”

"I think you do."

“Nope. Not at all. Maybe you just want kids. That would make me a mama, right?”

"Hmm." Suddenly he’s distracted by that idea. He's simply too busy imagining his come dripping out of you to give you a proper answer, making you even more curious.

“You are such a tease,” you grumble.

"What does that mean?"

“What do you think that means?” You mimic his question.

Bucky taps his thigh and smiles. "Come here. You can ask me anything." You look at his thighs and then back into his eyes, biting your lip. That offer is so appealing. "I thought you trusted my strength."

“Oh, I do.” You move a bit closer, but not on his lap. “I am just not trusting myself.”

He gasps, bringing you closer himself. "Fuck, why?"

“You know the answer to this one.” You remark cheekly.

"No, I really don't."

“You are lying, mister. You know what I mean when I say I don’t trust myself.” You move your legs, trying to find a comfortable position.

"I don't know exactly what you mean."

“You might find out later then.”

He groans, moving his hands to your breasts, unsure. "I wanna know now."

“I'll tell you only if you promise me that you'll explain the mom thing.” You like how distracted he looks, so you keep leaning in.

"You're a mommy right now."

“And what does that actually mean?”

He's too focused on your breasts to even hear you. "Fuck, look at those hard little things." He can't help but pinch one of your nipples.

“Bucky!”

"So squishy." He's so fascinated as he squeezes the other breast eagerly. He's like a distracted child.

You move a little bit back, so he can’t touch them. "No!" He immediately complains, reaching out to touch them again. "How dare you!"

“No answer, no touching.”

He lifts his head and gives you the most betrayed look you've ever seen. His eyes are almost glossy. "You can't take them away."

“I can actually.” You move a little bit more. “See? They come wherever I go.”

Bucky gasps, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer. "Don't you dare!"

“You are so dramatic.” You laugh while hugging him back.

"I am not." He pouts, burying his face into your boobs again.

“You are.” You move your hips just a little while still hugging him.

"What are you doing?"

“Nothing.”

"Nothing?" He moves his hips, too.

You make a sound you don’t expect but try to act like it didn’t happen. “Yeah, nothing.”

"Fuck me," he whispers to himself before taking your nipple in his mouth through the blouse. He wants to make you moan like that again. He needs to.

“Jesus, Bucky!”

"I'm your Jesus now?" He asks teasingly, switching to the other nipple.

“You can be my God if you keep doing that.” Shit, where did this response come from? He brings out a part of you that you didn’t know it even existed.

"You can't say this." He cries out unexpectedly, still licking you through your blouse. "You can't."

“Why?” It comes out like a whine.

"It's too much."

“You are too much.”

His hands grab the edge of your blouse without warning, but before he can rip it off, you slap his arms.

“You can just take things off without ripping them, you know?” You take the top off yourself, showing him how it’s done. “See, it’s not that hard.”

He ignores your comment and doesn't even warn you before grabbing your boobs and squeezing them together. "Missed you." Then he brings his head right between them, snuggling. You can’t help but laugh. "What's so funny?"

“You are. Look at you.”

"Can't look at me. I'm looking at something better." He licks the valley between your breasts without letting them go, and you curse under your breath. "Gonna take them away from me again?" He lets his tongue get to your right breast, and you feel his teeth dangerously close to your nipple now, making you moan.

“I think I should shut my mouth. I’m boosting your ego way too much.” You play because he’s boosting your ego, too.

"You can shut my mouth, baby. Anytime."

“Shut your mouth how?” You bring your hands over his mouth. “Like this?”

He bites your fingers in response. "Nope. Try again."

You move your hand to his neck and put a little pressure. “Maybe like this?”

He lets out the lowest moan you've ever heard from his mouth, closing his eyes. "Oh."

“Am I getting closer?” You ask. His eyes are so dark when he opens them, you're shocked. “Or did you mean something else?” You whisper right into his ear.

"Ihm. I did, can you guess?" He tries to distract himself before he can think about how much he enjoyed your grip on his neck.

“I’m out of ideas,” you say, making him drop his hand to your skirt. His fingers are playing with the edge of it. You can feel the implication of him wanting to take your skirt off. “You want me to… Shut you up with… Like that?”

"Imagine it." He closes his eyes, palming you over your underwear. "You'd be able to control the movements more."

“Did you… try this before? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

"You think you can hurt me?" He sounds so offended. "Oh, hell no. We should do this right now and I'll show you."

“Of course, I can hurt you. I could crush you!”

He looks at you amused. "Can't wait. Now come here and don't you dare hold back or you'll get a punishment. Got it?"

“Punishment?” Your eyes widen upon hearing that word. You aren’t sure if it’s scary or exciting. Could be both.

"I don't mean hurting you." He realizes immediately how this sounded. "I mean... spanking lightly."

“Oh, that kind of punishment.” You get a bit more relaxed, but your heart is beating fast. You move yourself where he wants you, but it feels so wrong. “I am afraid I might suffocate you.”

Bucky wants to protest immediately, but he stops himself. He knows you only need reassurance.

"How about we have a sign? If I tap three times on the couch, we stop. How about that?"

“Tap on me. Doesn’t matter where. Just on me, so I can feel it immediately.”

He nods, all melted. "Okay, now please don't hover." He gently orders.

“Tell me if I do anything wrong.”

You lower yourself on his face while trying to gather your skirt up for him.

"Can I rip it off or not?"

“You can. I knew you were gonna ask that, so I wore something I don’t like much.”

"Skirt too?"

“No. Not the skirt because I can take it off easily.” You unzip the skirt and take it off your head. “See?”

"Shame..," he says disappointed before finally ripping your underwear off with only one hand. "Finally!"

“You are a savage, Sergeant Barnes.”

"And I think you love that."

“Very much.” You lower yourself on his face, practically shutting him up like he wanted. He doesn't disappoint as he moans against you, making sure you're not hovering before pushing his tongue inside you. “Oh my god!” You yelp when you feel his warm tongue for the first time.

He can't answer as he's too busy eating you, but you feel his hands squeezing your skin harder. You spread your legs even further to feel his tongue better. It feels so good that you have a hard time keeping your voice down.

"Good girl." His praise goes directly to your core, and you curse under your breath, thinking you won’t last long. He can't help himself but bring one of his hands to your clit, hesitating.

“Just your tongue.” You request while moaning, and he agrees wordlessly.

You start to move your hips back and forth, trying not to go overboard and Bucky seems to love it, groaning louder against you, moving his tongue. As it gets more delightful, you have a hard time balancing yourself, so you grab onto his hair with one hand.

"Fuck!" He takes his mouth off just to curse. "Pull as hard as you want."

You pull his hair a little bit more before he puts his mouth back on you, just to see his reaction.

"Jesus, I'm..." he's so hard and excited that he's already started to leak. "I'm gonna make a mess on your couch."

“I’m already making a mess on my couch.” You are dripping wet, and he’s worried about making the mess. He’s so cute, especially when he’s laying down to please you like this.

"Keep bouncing, baby," he demands, then in no time, his tongue is flat, ready to be used by you, and you don’t hesitate.

You hold onto his hair with your right hand as you ride his tongue. You don't even realize how hard you pull until you hear his moans, encouraging you to keep going. He's clearly not suffocating, and you don’t realize how fast you are moving your hips, either. Not until you explode on his face, moaning mindlessly while trying to keep your shaking legs moving until you are done coming.

What surprises you the whole time is how he doesn't stop using his tongue until you finish, trying to hold you in place so he can give you more pleasure. You move yourself back a little after you are done, sitting on his chest and trying to catch your breath. You feel like a mess.

"How was it?" He doesn't move as he asks you that, only wiping his face with the back of his left hand.

“Earth-shattering. Wow.”

He snorts before licking his fingers right under your eyes. "Gonna listen to me next time?"

“Yes, sir,” you jokingly say, feeling boneless but still needing more.

"No." His answer comes more like a groan than an affirmation. "You can't… call me sir."

“Why not, sir?”

"God, it sounds so... great." He doesn't know what else to say, covering his face shily.

“Did I just discover something about you or did you already know this?” You finally move away from his chest, leaning down to kiss him.

"It's something new."

“What about Sargeant? That you must have known.” You move your lips to his cheek, just making them brush his skin.

"Come on. Kiss me." He complains.

“Ask nicely.”

"Please?"

You finally kiss him on the cheek. "You are so pretty when you beg." Then you move your lips to his jaw and neck.

"You are even prettier when you listen."

"Am I? What if I don't listen?"

He brings his hand to your neck. "You're a bad, bad girl. And bad girls get punished." He smiles.

"I never got punished in bed before."

He smiles. "What would you want to try? Spanking as I suggested before?"

"You are giving the orders, remember? Not me."

Bucky raises his eyebrow. "You mean you pretend I'm giving the orders."

"Maybe I want you to give the orders, not just pretend." He squeezes the sides of the neck.

"You can try whatever you wanna try. You can give orders, just stop whenever I say stop."

"Deal.”

It feels strange to have him in your bedroom, truth be told. Especially watching him getting rid of his underwear and socks this close to you. His hair bounces with every move, so you can't help but giggle. And he looks so good. Really good, especially under proper lighting.

It’s not the first time you are seeing him half-naked, but you definitely didn’t get a good look while having a quickie in a dark alley. His body looks toned, strong, and capable. You are dying to feel his touch, but you stand still, waiting for him to come to you.

"How many taps when you want me to stop?"

“Three.”

"Good." He smiles assuringly before slowly spreading your legs further. "You're so cute waiting for me."

“Just cute?”

He shakes his head, finally positioning himself at your entrance. His eyes are stuck on you: your hair, face, neck, chest. "You're sweet too," he teases, pushing inside you.

“Fuck.” You moan silently. It feels so good to feel him inside you again. “Sweet? Anything else?” You voice comes out so breathy.

"Smart. Nerdy." He leans in, putting more of his weight onto his elbows. "Beautiful. Brave. Loud and adorable."

“Brave?” You look confused while biting your bottom lip, trying not to make a loud sound.

"Aren't you?" He smiles, starting to thrust a little faster, but not enough to make it impossible to speak. At least for now. "Brave to move on from a failed engagement. Brave to live with your friend here. Brave to accept our date. Brave to test me." His laugh is so contagious.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. “You think I tested you?” Your lips are inches away from his.

"I know you did." He kisses you, not waiting for you to do it as he lifts one of your legs on his shoulder. "At the fair." He sounds out of breath this time, his thrusts hitting a little deeper.

You wanna say you didn’t, that it wasn’t a test. It is something that happened, and you don’t regret it, but instead, a loud moan escapes your mouth. The angle change fills you with a different kind of pleasure.

"What a responsive doll you are." He smiles against your neck. "So perfect for me." You pull your legs, spreading your legs even further to give him more space to move. It makes his thrusts feel even better somehow. "Jesus, this is..." He's trying to find the perfect words to describe how he feels, but there are none. "Heaven."

“Oh, god!” It’s hard to keep your voice down when he latches onto the closest nipple, Whatever he’s doing with that tongue, it helps you to feel better down there. It’s driving you closer to your release.

"I'm your god now?" He jokes, stopping the sucking for a few seconds just to tease you.

“Yes! Yes, you are. Keep doing that and I will worship you later.”

He doesn't just continue lick and suck on your breast, he also starts thrusting deeper than before. The sound of the bed moving is even more obvious now. There is no way your neighbors don't know what is happening.

“Shit!” It’s so hard not to curse when he’s pounding like that, hitting all the right spots. “I’m so close,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice down. “Just keep going, don’t change anything.”

"Just like this?" He asks, keeping the same pace as you asked. "Are you going to be good and enjoy yourself?"

“You have no idea…” You try to collect yourself to form a sentence. “How good I feel right now.”

"I do," he says breathlessly before letting his teeth and tongue mark your neck. The pain you feel somehow enhances the pleasure, and you suddenly find yourself throwing your head back, shutting your eyes, and moaning his name over and over again. You’re coming so hard. "I feel like... Doll, please, say my name again."

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.” It’s all you wanna say anyway. “Please, don’t stop. Please!” You have no idea why you’re begging. You know he won’t stop, yet you still wanna do it. You still wanna beg him not to stop. It feels that good, that precious.

"Never." He manages to answer you between moans. "I'd rather die."

“Oh god, I think I…” Pleasure keeps hitting you in waves. “I might be dying myself.” You never had an orgasm this long. Your whole body is tensed up. You can actually hear your ears ringing.

"Gonna come for you, pretty doll." He bites your neck on another spot.

“Please, please.” It’s like you forgot all the other words. You watch him through a haze how he reaches his orgasm, saying your name like a whisper as he suddenly stays still inside you.

After he finishes, you close the distance and give him a big kiss. Sloppy and loving. It feels like you are thanking him for all the pleasure he’s just given you.

"Hi." He smiles. "Are you good?"

“God! I feel like I am still on the clouds.” You caress his face, carefully admiring his features. “What about you?”

He smiles. "I'm in heaven."

“Does it always feel this good?” The words come out of your mouth unintentionally. You really didn’t mean to ask that out loud. It was just a thought. “I mean, I don’t know what you are doing different to make it feel so good. I didn’t experience this before.” You keep rambling, trying to explain yourself. “So I wonder if it is supposed to feel this good all the time. But I’m not trying to question your past or anything. Don’t get me wrong.” You would keep talking if he didn’t cut you off.

"Breathe, baby. No, it doesn't feel like this with everyone else because you don't always have a connection. I am so glad to hear I made you happy." He smiles like a fool.

You cover your face with your hands. “I shouldn’t have asked that, I am sorry. It feels like it’s something you keep to yourself.”

"What? No. Ask me and I'll answer."

You finally take your hands off your face.

“Okay. I have another question then.” He’s still inside you. and you can feel him getting hard again. “Is it normal that you are already getting hard inside me this quickly?”

He groans. "Told you, you felt amazing."

“That’s not my question, though. Is this normal for you? You always get hard this quickly after coming?” You insist because you wanna know. You have a feeling there’s something different about him, and you wanna prove it to him.

He has no idea about your intention, though. He’s worried that he’s hurting you, so in a few seconds, he quickly gets out of you.

"Sorry. I didn't want to hurt you." He raises from the bed, taking off the used condom as he walks to the nightstand. "And yes, I do become hard like this. Why?"

“You didn’t hurt me.” You want to quickly clear that up. “And you know it takes at least half an hour for other men, right? That’s not… how it normally works.”

Bucky laughs. "They haven't met you."

“I’m talking from experience this time. In this case, they met me. This has nothing to do with me.”

He rolls the second condom on as he speaks. "Maybe I'm a lucky man."

“Okay, you are ignoring too many signs. I have to prove it to you. Bring me that small mirror.”

Bucky starts laughing, but he does what you ask him to, then coming back.. "What are you gonna do, huh?"

You sit on his lap, and just like that he’s back inside you.

“Welcome back.” You joke with a smile. “Now gimme the mirror.” He hands it over, and without explaining anything, you lean down, gently licking and sucking on a certain spot.

Bucky tries desperately not to thrust his hips. After a while, you start to bite his neckless gently, which makes you feel a little guilty.

He doesn't seem to mind though. Quite the contrary. "You can bite harder.”

“Hmm…” If he doesn’t mind, you don’t mind biting harder either. So you do it again, dragging the skin with your teeth. “God, you’re so delicious.”

His hands find their way to your breasts, making sure not to grab them too hard. You bite the same spot again, fand a red spot is already forming.

"Little artist," he says when you reach for the mirror, turning it to him so he can see his neck. It’s clearly dark red. "See? You gave me a hickey. Congrats, baby." He smiles proudly and kisses your cheek.

“Let’s see how long it will take you to heal.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. "I just have a ticker skin, baby. Now come on, please, do something. Why are you torturing me?"

“I’m a small, adorable girl. I don’t know how I am supposed to move.” You are fully lying, and he knows it. So he decides to play your game.

"Bounce a little. Up and down."

You act like you are trying and failing. “Like this?”

Bucky shakes his head. "Try again. Change the angle a bit."

“Oh, come on, Bucky.” You whine. You love and hate how he quickly catches up to whatever you try to do.

"You should be a good little girl and try it yourself."

“Fine.” You frown and start moving for real this time, and he immediately wraps his arms properly around your waist.

"What's wrong?"

“I was teasing you, so you would get tired of it and take control.”

He smiles. "I know."

In response, you punch him in his shoulder. “Then why didn’t you?”

"Why would I give you what you want now?" His voice drops lower. "Wanna push your limits."

“My limits?” You repeat as he brushes your nipples. “You wanna torture me? Make me desperate? Is that what it is?”

Bucky smiles, getting his lips close to yours again, but before he can kiss you, he takes you by the back of the head and moves you. You whine when he gets out of you.

“Bucky! What the fuck?”

"I need you to trust me, okay?" He tries to help get on all fours as he speaks. You nod in agreement. "Need your ass a little higher."

“My ass?” You sound a little afraid. You are definitely not ready for that if that’s his intention.

"Yes." He doesn't notice the change in your tone right away. "Promise I don't- oh, I don't plan on doing anything like that I promise. Just trust me."

You take a deep breath of relief. “Okay.”

"Put your weight on your elbows, okay?" You do as he asks. You switch the weight, putting your head down while your ass goes higher. "Do you feel comfortable?"

“It’s a little weird, but not uncomfortable.”

"Ready?"

“Yes!” You sound impatient, and he quickly pushes inside you. Not too much, afraid he might hurt you in any way. It must feel way deeper like this, and he doesn't want to risk it.

"God," he finds himself moaning. "You feel so good." You can’t respond to him though. All you can do is just moan. It feels incredible. "All good?"

“Yeah.” Your voice feels a little different. Raspy. “You can move.”

Bucky lets out a deep breath before finally trying out a few slow thrusts. "How does it feel?"

“Good. Really good.” It’s like your vocabulary disappears when you two have sex. It’s hard to form sentences or express yourself.

"How about this?" He asks while moving much faster. It's something about this angle that gives him more room to use his strength.

“Jesus Christ!” You mumble. How can it feel this good?

"I don't think I can last as long as before." He groans as he watches you shiver under him. The way you sound like this, your position, the way you feel... He's on another planet.

“I don’t think you have to.” It’s unbelievable how close you are. It’s normally not that easy for you, but things are different when you are with him.

He keeps the same pace, focusing on your moans and the sound of your skin slapping. His mouth somehow manages to find your shoulder and he licks the same spot for a few seconds, making you shiver. "So sweet for me."

Even though you love how he is licking and talking into you ear, him leaning in changes the angle and the pace. It’s not as rough as it was before, and you find yourself moving your hips back, trying to get more friction.

"Look at that." He smiles against your shoulder, sounding fascinated. "Someone is unhappy with my services."

“Not unhappy.” You definitely aren’t. “It’s just… my hips don’t listen to me anymore.”

"Oh, no," Bucky comments amused before getting back to his initial position. "Your poor hips."

You know he isn’t mocking you for real but something about it irritates you. So you stop moving your hips. “Better?”

He lifts his eyebrow even though he knows you can't see him. "Hmm." You suddenly feel a slap on your ass. You make a sound that can only be described as a half moan half yelp.

"What was that?" Another spank follows. This time you’re moaning when the burning feeling spreads on your ass cheek completely. You feel the urge to move your hips again, but you refrain yourself.

"Look at you, bratty little cat. You're getting wetter because of this." He's so excited as he rubs your cheeks with both of his hands, but you can do this later. He's too close. You are, too. And just like that, he's back to fucking you. He doesn't go back to his gentle rhythm. Surprisingly, his thrusts are deep and fast.

“Oh my god!” The rhytm is finally the way you wanted it again. Instinctively, you lean in a bit more, and your head gets buried in the bed while your ass is a little higher than before.

"Jesus, doll." He cries out, feeling so overwhelmed. "I'm so close. So... so close."

Your hand moves to your clit, touching yourself just the way you like it, even though it feels so hard to do while he’s pounding you. That’s all you need to finally reach the climax. You're not quiet at all despite your failed attempt to muffle your moans with your pillow. And Bucky feels like that's it. He doesn't even manage to warn you that he’s following you and coming hard. He softly moans your name after he finishes, falling onto your back just to feel your skin.

His hands wrap around your body and you let yourself fall with him. The indescribable pleasure you felt is still running through your whole body.

"Wow!"

You laugh a little, trying to turn your head. You wanna see him, kiss him, and maybe tease him a little, but he's already prepping kisses all over your neck, then your back.

“You are crushing me,” you say jokingly but it’s half true.

"Oh, sorry." He immediately gets off you, throwing himself on the bed completely.

“Don’t go that far away though.” You exaggerate a little, opening your arms. You want him as close as possible.

Bucky doesn't hesitate to use this as an opportunity to bury his head into your boobs. "Hmm, perfect. I’m in heaven with you and these babies." He kisses both of your breasts to emphasize what he means.

You can’t help but snort. “Babies?”

"Yes, my babies. My dolls."

“I thought they were mine.”

Bucky puffs before snuggling even more. "Only mine."

“And I have no say in this?” You joke again, and he shakes his head. “Does it mean this…” You grab his dick gently. It’s soft and the condom is dangling. “...is mine?”

His whine is so loud, making you giggle. "Of course it's yours."

“Oh, I love this deal.” You use your thumb and index finger to take the condom off.

"Fuck." He closes his eyes.

“Sensitive?”

"A little."

“That’s okay.” You give him a little kiss on the head, then move a little so you can tie the condom up. That makes you see the hickey on his neck again, which is almost gone. You put the condom away and reach for the mirror you used before.

"What?"

“Remember the lovely hickey I gave you?” Bucky nods. “Wanna see it now?” You lift the mirror so he can take a look. He expected to see only a faded pink mark, but instead the skin is intact as if you never bit him.

"How!?"

“That’s my question exactly.”

"What the fuck is going on?" His hand goes to the place your mark used to be and there's no trace of any teeth. "Holy cow."

“I think you are healing faster than any of us.” You stop for a second. “Like Steve.”

Bucky's eyes immediately find yours. "You don't mean..."

“I don’t know what I mean, to be honest, because I don’t know any details. Like… Did you participate in whatever they did to him? Or maybe it’s something transmittable, I don’t know.”

You see him going pale all of the sudden, and your heart drops. He seems to know what caused this.

"They must have done something to me when I was captured. But I didn't change like he did." He looks so confused, like he’s trying to put the puzzle pieces together. "I'm not like Steve."

“You were captured?!” That’s all you focus on. You have to know.

"I was." He sighs, placing the mirror on the floor before pulling you onto his lap. "By Hydra. Long story short, my unit and I were sent at some point at a weapon facility in Europe. In Austria... We were forced to work on an advanced bomber plane. I have no idea what happened to that, but I was so..." Bucky closes his eyes. "I was starving, losing weight every day. I was so weak I couldn't continue, so they did something else."

“Dear God.” You are completely shocked. “Are you okay?”

"I was basically a test subject for a crazy doctor. I thought they just tested different things for a death serum. But now I am not sure at all." He's so lost in his memories now. He is clearly not like Steve, but it's so weird how his health reports were fine. He shakes his head, not wanting to think about it any longer. "I'm more than well when I'm with you." He finally answers your question.

“I’m glad you are here with me.” You give him a full kiss, thinking about all the possibilities, everything that could’ve happened before you two had the chance to meet. You wouldn’t even know who he is and that somehow hurts more.

"You're so precious." He hugs you so tightly you feel like you're about to cry.

You try not the think about how he could’ve been still a captive. You can’t imagine how horrible that experience must be, but you don’t wanna cry. Not when he’s in your arms like this.

“Wanna test out how super you are?” You suggests instead. A change of subject can help you both.

"Want me to cook for you? Going to prove to you I am marriage material after all." He smiles.

Your eyes widen with surprise. “Marriage?” That definitely wasn’t what you were expecting him to say.

"Don't mind me, doll. What did you have in mind?"

“No, no, no. You can’t say that and leave it at that.”

Bucky strokes your hair. "What else can I say? I'm embarrassing myself."

“Embarrassing yourself? Nope, you aren’t.” You shake your head. “You are giving me hope but don’t do it if you don’t mean it, okay?”

"Of course I mean it," he immediately says, not letting you doubt even for a second. "But I thought... it is a bit early. I didn't want to be overbearing."

“It’s not. I know we don’t know each other that well yet and we might change our minds later. I’m not taking this as a promise or anything.”

"Well," he raises your hand and brings it to his mouth just to place a soft kiss on it. "I would be lucky if you wanted me after all of this." You give him a confused look, and he clarifies: "This whole weird healing thing and my sad story." He snorts, belittling himself. You are not having any of this though.

“I think it’s…” You try to find the right words. “really hot, and I really wanna test your limits because I think your healing applies to your… recovery, too. Remember how quickly you got hard again?”

Bucky laughs. "So it's all about this, huh?"

“What? Don’t you wanna find out if I am right?”

"I don't have another condom, love." He sighs.

“I mean we did it without a condom before.” It’s the truth, but it feels so weird to ask for more after having great sex. You should be content with it, but no, your body craves more.

Bucky kisses your shoulder again.

"I know, but we risked it. I don't want to make you take a risk. Even if I don't spill inside you..." You don’t like the fact that he’s right. What you don’t realize is that your face is showing what you are thinking. "I can use my tongue if you want." He smiles, trying to find another solution.

“The point is testing your limits, Sergeant.”

"My limits of my tongue count." He kisses you for a few seconds.

“You are so annoying, rejecting my offer, Sargaent.”

Bucky gasps. "I did not! I just tried to look out for you."

“It’s okay.” You make a move to get up. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

He grabs you by your wrist. "Don't do this to me."

“I’m just listening to what you are saying.”

He frowns. "Then why do I feel like the bad guy?"

“Because you rejected this…” You show yourself. “A pretty girl’s offer for more sex.

"My pretty girl wants sex even without protection?"

“She does.” You purse your lips, feeling a bit vulnerable and trying to cover it.

"Then…" He pulls you closer and kisses you gently, holding your face with both of his hands.

“You love torturing me,” you say between kisses.

"Not as much as you do."

"Wanna do the honors or should I?" He grabs his cock with a hand, waiting for you to move or just say something.

“Oh, be my guest. Do whatever you wanna do. Just pull out in time.”

"Promise." He kisses you before getting inside you in one swift motion.

There are no words to describe how tired you feel. Exhausted comes close, but it doesn’t cover the pleasure you are still feeling despite your jelly legs. You aren’t sure if you made the best or the worst decision of your life when you suggested testing his limits because you lost the count of the orgasms you had. You are ruined. Simply ruined by him. No man will ever compare.

"Did I pass?" Bucky asks breathlessly, holding you against his chest. “Am I husband material?"

You can’t believe he is still wondering that. This wasn’t meant to be a husband material test, but you gotta admit that he passed with flying colors.

“You know we weren’t testing that, right?”

"Such a loss." He plays amused. "What did we test then?"

“How quickly your body can recover, and now we can safely say that you are not a regular guy.”

Bucky sighs. "Then what am I?"

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me.” You run your hand on his cheek, gently caressing it before giving him a big kiss. You wonder why he wants to be a regular guy. He’s perfect the way he is.

Bucky immediately melts under you. "That's not nice. You read my thoughts and use them against me," he explains more emotionally than before.

“Maybe we are just sharing the same thoughts and feelings.”

"We are a perfect match."

“It seems so.” You quickly agree. “And you are perfect the way you are. I get that you don’t know what exactly this is but it seems cool so far.” You try to put his mind at ease. “And no one knows about it. You don’t have to be like Steve, you can keep being yourself.”

"You're so sweet." He leaves a soft kiss on your hair.

“I’m not usually sweet. Maybe it’s the afterglow talking.” You joke to lighten the mood.

He snorts. "You're the sweetest person I've ever met."

“Now that’s a lie.” You keep the same tone.

"If that's a lie, I am a normal guy."

“That’s even a bigger lie. You are nowhere close to being a normal guy. Normal guys suck.”

Bucky's fingers travel to your belly. "Is that so?"

“No, no, no.” You try to avoid getting tickled. “Bucky, please.”

"Say you're the sweetest girl in the world, and I might show you some mercy."

“Fine, fine, fine.” You accept the defeat. “I’m the sweetest girl in the world. Okay?”

"I can't hear you." He tickles you harder.

“BUCKY!” You protest, but he doesn’t stop. “I’M THE SWEETEST GIRL IN THE WORLD.”

"Good." He finally lets go, grabbing your face just to give you the sloppiest kiss you've ever shared. “Now close your eyes. You need to sleep."

You wanna be mad at him for tickling you hard, but you can’t.

“Oh, I gotta clean myself a little first.”

“Let me help you. Where do you keep your towels?"

You already thought he was perfect, but he’s showing you he’s even better than you thought. How is he real? How did you get this lucky? You don’t know.

“Just sit down, baby. I can handle those.”

"Let's make a deal: I change the sheets while you clean if you want." You wanna say no and you can handle those. but you are so tired.

“Sounds like a good plan.” You can’t deny that it’s efficient, and you wanna see if he can do it right. This is the real marriage material test, but he won’t know until you see the results. You hand him the new sheets and leave him to work, so you can clean yourself pretty quickly.

You really made a big mess. Cleaning takes longer than you expected, but when you come back, you find a freshly made bed.

"Ready for bed now?"

“Yeah.” You inspect the sheets. He made the bed perfectly. “Unbelievable.” You didn’t mean to say that out loud, but it came out anyway. “Perfectly made. I think I will have to marry you, Sergeant Barnes.”

He smiles widely. "So I passed my test?"

“Yep.” You move onto the bed. “If you can cook as well, I won’t ever let you go. Say goodbye to your bachelor days.”

Bucky pulls you to him. "Goodbye, bachelor days."

You laugh while kissing him.

“Let’s sleep.” You snuggle closer while he yawns.

You have been awake for a couple of minutes, just trying to fully wake up and freely watch Bucky sleeping. He looks so pretty and innocent.

Long lashes, kissable lips, big arms. God, why does he have to be this pretty?

You lean in, with the intention to give him a kiss like a normal person, but god, those arms look so biteable. Before you can change your mind, you bite his arm and watch him slowly wake up. Then you start giving him small kisses: on his arm, on his cheeks, and finally when he opens his eyes, on his lips.

"Good morning." He gives you an innocent look.

“Good morning, handsome.” You kiss his cheek again.

"Handsome?" His voice is so raspy in the morning.

“Yeah, handsome. Very very handsome.”

He smiles when you snuggle closer to him. "So sweet. I have a question. Do you have a toothbrush for me?" His eyes are semi-closed as he asks.

“Oh, sure. I can find one.”

"I didn't realize I will stay over. I'm sorry for wasting one of yours."

“Oh, shut up.” You push him a little playfully. “You can waste anything you want.”

You come closer to give him a kiss. You don’t care about the toothbrush or anything else. You are just enjoying being in bed with him.

"My breath smells really bad." He shakes his head, embarrassed. You shrug and give him a kiss anyway. You are sure your breath doesn’t smell good either, but that doesn’t stop you. "Such a stubborn lady."

“I just don’t care, and for your information, it doesn’t smell bad.” You keep kissing him.

"If you continue, doll, we might end up doing something else."

“Hmm.” You act like you don’t know what that means.

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, hmm.”

"What can it mean?"

“No idea.” You don’t move away, you don’t kiss him. You just look at him.

"Okay then." He gives you an innocent look. "Time for me to go to the bathroom."

You kiss his cheek, giving him space to get up. He pouts a bit disappointed but doesn't say anything.

“What?”

"Nothing. So where do I find a toothbrush?" He finally gets up.

“I will show you.” You follow him to the bathroom.

"Also, do you have any allergies?”

His question catches you off guard. “Not that I know off. Why?”

"Gonna cook something for you."

“You really want that ring, don’t you?” You joke with a big smile on your face.

His laugh fills the bathroom. "You want to give me a ring?"

“How else am I gonna make sure others know you are taken?”

"You don't need a ring for that. At all."

“Yeah, you are right. I was just joking.”

He smiles. "Wait for me in the bed. Whatever happens, you stay there, okay?"

“Okay.” You raise your hands in defeat.

"Good girl, go now." He pats your ass before letting you go.

You can’t help but smile on your way back to the bed. If this is how being married to Bucky is gonna be, you are down for it.

"Come on, another bite. Please."

“Fine.” You take another bite. It’s delicious but you are full. So full. The breakfast he made was simply amazing. You might really need to find a ring to put on him, because he’s definitely husband material.

"Good girl, and drink more water."

“I’m so full,” you say after taking a sip. “The food was just amazing.”

"You're full, huh?" He snorts.

“I am.” You give him a look, not understanding what he means.

"I think you can take more."

“No more food, please.”

"Oh, sweetheart." Bucky gives you a smirk. "That is not what I meant."

“Oh!” You finally get it and start to giggle wile takes a bite of pancakes from your plate.

"Oh, indeed."

“You wanna?”

"Do you?" He stares back.

“You are so annoying.”

"Annoying enough to get you to kiss me?"

You give him a short kiss. “Thanks for the breakfast.”

"I didn't have mine, though."

“You can eat this.” You offer your leftovers. You’re sure that they’re more than enough to make him feel full, too.

"But I don't want that.” He whines. "I want you."

“You can have me.”

"Want you on my face."

“Again?” You sound surprised. “I thought you would want something that you would enjoy as well.”

"Excuse you? I enjoy that." His tone shows that he’s totally offended.

“Oh, you do?”

Bucky laughs so loud. "I cannot believe it wasn't clear."

“I mean… I’m not used to that. Maybe that’s why.”

"The question is if you’d like to do that again."

“Oh, yeah.” You nod eagerly. “I would love that.”

"Then…" He places the food carefully on the table next to the bed.

You bite your lip while getting up and taking your underwear off. He watches you excited as he gets on his back completely, waiting. This time you know what to do. So you get back to the bed and straddle his face.

"Use me however you want, okay? Don't stop."

“Tap on my thighs if you want me to stop, okay?” He nods and you lower yourself completely. He doesn’t even wait for a few seconds. “Jesus, Bucky.” You breath out. It’s hard not to make a sound when he works that enthusiastically. He doesn't say anything in return, too focused on spreading your lips with his tongue. You moan loudly and start to ride his face, and you realize shortly he loves it as his hands help you quicken your pace just the way you like it.

“Oh, god…” You try to get support from the headboard. “This feels so good.”

He groans against you, so hard, thrusting his hips in the air because you taste amazing.

You start to move a little faster as you feel like you are getting closer to your release. His nose starts to bump up against your clit from time to time and that adds an another level of pleasure.

"Keep going," he says breathlessly before taking you by surprise and slapping your ass twice.

“Fuuck. I’m- I’m so close.”

"Hmm." He slaps your right ass cheek one more time as his tongue moves to your clit. The sounds you are making don’t sound human anymore. You are aware of it, but it’s so hard to care when you start to come so hard on his tongue. He doesn't let go or stop licking you until he feels you are done, then he gently helps you move.

"Hi."

“Ahh.” You struggle to find your voice. “Hi.”

He giggles while cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. "Feel good?"

“God, I’m keeping you. That’s it. That was my last drop.”

Bucky moans excited. "Are you proposing to me, love?"

“Well, not like this, and I gotta buy a ring first,” you jokingly answer.

"Hmm." He brings you close to his face so he can kiss you. "Maybe I will accept."

“Maybe? What can I do to guarantee a yes?”

Bucky smiles. "Who knows?"

“Maybe I should return the favor.”

"No need for that."

“Wouldn’t that help though? I wanna increase my chances.” You continue with that same joking tone.

"A little. What is your plan?"

“Give you head and then propose I guess.”

He suddenly blushes. “I didn’t expect you to say it so openly but love to hear what you think."

“Then I will keep speaking like this.” You move your face to give him a kiss on the lips. “So… You want it or not?”

Bucky nods and dutifully stays on his back, opening his legs more. You carefully undress him and settle between his legs. He’s already half hard and he looks so pretty laying like that, waiting for your next move. You start slowly, just moving your hands up and down, letting him enjoy it.

You lean down and start leaving kisses to him all over his skin. "Ahh." You move onto his thighs, placing your hand on his cock without moving it.

"Gonna torture me?"

“Is this your definition of torture?”

"I'm a man."

“And I am a woman who enjoys what she is doing.” You don’t give him a chance to respond. You run the tip of your tongue from the bottom to the top of his cock.

"Oh, God." He closes his eyes for a couple of minutes.

“Open your eyes if you want me to continue.”

"Sorry..." he groans, opening them.

“Look at me the whole time, okay? Watch what I am doing to you. Think about this moment whenever you feel like giving up.” Then you finally take him inside your mouth.

"Oh, Jesus." His hands immediately get into your hair. "N-no warning?" You shake your head while your mouth is full of him. "I don't think I could forget this even if I wanted to."

You hum around his cock before you start to properly bob your head. You try to look at him, memorizing his reactions and see what he likes the most.

"Use your tongue more around the head, please."

You do what he asks, twirling your tongue around the head and watching him fall apart.

"Baby," he hisses. "Just like that."

You wrap your hand around the base after taking your mouth off it. Your fingers work on him while you take one of his balls inside your mouth, gently sucking to see if he likes it or not. He's so close as he bites his bottom lip.

"You're a dirty little girl.” You hum in response, your mouth being too full to be able to answer him. "Wanna paint your face." It feels like the words are just spilling from his mouth.

You finally let go of his ball.

“My face, huh?” You ask before taking him back in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head once again.

"You're a dirty girl, and I have to a make you dirtier. Would you like that?"

You shake your head in agreement, then you start moving your mouth and hand at the same time, going up and down until he quickly pulls out when he feels he's coming. And just like that, your face and hair are getting covered. You close your eyes and for some reason stick your tongue out.

"God, baby. You drive me insane." He finishes coming and stares at the way you lick some of his come. You can only open one of your eyes as his come is dripping on the other one. Then you wipe it off from your eyelid and lick it clean. "And you will make me get hard again."

“We know that doesn’t take much.” You giggle, remembering last night.

"You're so pretty like this. I can't..." He smiles watching you clean yourself more.

“I am not sure about that.” You smile. “I should go and clean myself properly.”

"Should we take a bath?" He excitedly asks

“Oh, that sounds great.”

Bucky helps her get up. "Let's go."

"Look at this," he leans in to kiss your forehead, taking the cup from you. "Thank you."

“After last night and this morning, the coffee was needed. At least for me.”

"I am human too, you know? I need coffee."

“You are a super human.” You smile before taking a sip.

"I hope my tongue is a super tongue, too." He winks and takes a few sips from his coffee. "So good. Now, I have something and I forgot to give it to you since we were... busy."

“Oh?”

Bucky nods and brings his hand into his left pocket. "Like I promised." Then he takes out a small wrapped up package.

“What is this?” You take it and quickly open it without destroying the wrapping. “Oh my god, Bucky! You got me new stockings!”

“Wanna try them on?"

“Right now?” You are surprised by his request.

"Yep. If you want, of course."

“You just want me to get undressed in front of you again.” You joke while standing up. You don’t mind trying them at all.

"Don't act as if you don't."

“See you get undressed or get undressed myself?” You take the stockings out of the package while talking.

"Both.” He watches you as you put them on, fascinated. “How do they feel?"

“They feel really nice.” You move your leg a little, inspecting the stockings. “High quality. Where did you even find this?”

"Pulled some strings. Being a soldier has its perks, you know? Being friends with Captain America, too."

“You did not!”

"What?" He laughs at your tone.

“You used your Captain America advantage to get me stockings?”

"Yep."

“Oh my god!” You have a huge smile on your face when you are walking toward him. And without a word, you sit on his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you. These are much better than the ones you ripped off.” You give him a kiss on his right cheek. “So you get a kiss.”

"So generous." He kisses you properly.

“Such a gentleman.” You pause for a few seconds before adding. “With dirty tendencies.”

"Well, I got a dirty girlfriend."

“Please, I’m pretty innocent.” You move away from his lap. “We didn’t even meet up in my apartment because that would be inappropriate.” You finally snort. “At least that’s what my friends think.”

"And you call them friends?"

“Gotta keep my reputation intact.” You shrug. That’s the way it is. “Oh, speaking of friends! I gotta ask you something otherwise Cassie will kill me.”

"What?"

“She wanted me to ask about Steve. Apparently, she hasn’t heard from him.”

"Oh…" It's all that Bucky says.

“Oh?”

"I didn't know."

“She wants to know if he ever mentions her.”

He doesn't know how to answer for a couple of seconds. Steve has never been into romance. "He's very focused on the future plans against Hydra."

“Well, that’s not surprising. If he thought about her, he would find a way to contact her, I guess.”

"He doesn't think about pretty much anyone, I am sorry."

You shrug. “I hope she doesn’t shoot the messenger.”

"I am sorry. Steve is very... particular. About life and work. He wanted to be in the army for so long, he doesn't see anything else."

“That’s… sad.” You reach for the coffee mug. “What about you?”

"Obviously not interested in sex or romantic life." He jokes once again, hoping that it would change the mood.

“I meant about life and work, but we can talk about that too,” you say with a smile.

"I don't like fighting, you know? It's never ending." Even his voice sounds tired as he talks about it.

“I sensed that you don’t enjoy fighting, but I think you are pretty good at it. At least it seems that way, and I feel like you aren’t focused on the fight, but mostly on what can come after when this is all done.”

Bucky sighs, approving what you said with a nod. There is something scary and confusing about what the future. If he survives. What will change? After so much death and loss, what will happen?

"I hate this so much."

You have this urge to hug him and tell him it’s gonna be fine. Yet you don’t know if that’s the truth and you don’t wanna lie. “I hate it, too. It’s like our lives are completely revolving around the war.“

"Yes, but let's not think about it, baby." He kisses your forehead.

“It’s easier not to think about it when you are around.”

"You help me with that, too."

“Oh, do I?” You smile. “What do you think about instead of war when you are with me?”

"I think only about you."

“Another thing we have in common.”

Bucky smiles. "You're so smooth."

“Smooth? I meant I am thinking about myself, too.” You stick your tongue out a bit cheekily.

"Nice try." He snorts, amused by your comment. "I totally understand why you'd think about yourself, though."

“Why would I think about myself?” You wanna know what he’s thinking.

"You're funny, amazing, beautiful, smart." He kisses your cheeks. "You got everything."

“And what about you?”

"What about me?" He asks confused.

“What do you have?”

"Strings to buy you more stockings."

“Oh!” You both start to laugh. “That’s not all, though.”

"Right, I also got Captain America as my friend."

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Bucky sighs. "I don't have much to offer unfortunately. I have 4 siblings."

“Jesus, do you really not know?”

"If you mean sexually..."

“Not only that. Stop underestimating yourself, you have a lot to offer. Look at me.” He lifts his head as you asked. “I love spending time with you. It doesn’t matter what we are talking about, it’s always interesting. You are smart, funny, thoughtful and so so pretty.”

Bucky melts under your eyes. "No one called me pretty before."

“You are so pretty, you have no idea. These eyes…” You touch the corner of his eyelid. “These lines,” You caress the smile lines. “These lips…”

He blushes instantly feeling your touch and brings your hand closer to his lips in order to kiss it. "You're so sweet."

After spending a little bit more time in your apartment, you and Bucky decide to go for a walk. He’s here for a limited amount of time and he should make the most of it. Maybe you can stop by a book or a record store together, eat something he craves and enjoy this sunny day to the fullest. You don't even realize how close you are until you feel his hand touching yours, subtly trying to hold it.

You feel butterflies in your stomach. You did a lot of stuff together so far, but you haven’t held hands yet. Not publicly. Not like this. You open your hand, just showing you want him to hold it, and he does proudly.

"Do you want some ice cream, sweetheart?"

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. It’s so hard to fight the urge to smile. This might be the best day of your life. The sun is shining, Bucky is by your side, holding your hand. You don’t think life gets better than this.

“I would love that.” He smiles before leaning in to kiss your head. Suddenly, you feel the urge to say what you have been thinking. He should know.

“You know that I will wait for you if you want, right?” You can’t help it. All the marriage and proposal jokes aside, you really want him in your life.

Bucky stops walking suddenly. "Doll..." He sighs, still holding your hand. "I don't want to make you go through this."

“You think I won’t go through it if we act like this means nothing, but you are wrong.”

"I did not say that! This is not nothing, but I can't be engaged to you and leave you behind like this."

“Who said anything about being engaged?”

"We talked about getting married a lot. So I thought..."

“I didn’t say I don’t want to. I just meant that we don’t have to get engaged if that’s your concern.”

"I don't know. Either way I can't let you go through that." He shakes his head. The last thing he wants is for her to wait for him not knowing if he will survive. "Because if I die..."

“If you die… I would be devastated regardless. It doesn’t matter even if we decide not to see each other anymore.”

He doesn't say anything else, instead, he pulls you to him in the tightest hug you've ever felt.

"I don't want to lose you."

“Believe me, I don’t wanna lose you, either.” You wrap your hands around his body, burying your face into his chest. “My kidnapping offer still stands.”

You hear him snort. "You're just making up excuses to have me tied up."

“Do I need to?”

"No." He breaks the hug and reaches out for your hand again. "My future wife doesn't need excuses. You're stuck with me."

“And you are stuck with me.”

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randomperson3736 · 1 month

Text

I don't know why I bite

Paring(s): Bruce wayne x son! Reader, batboys x brother! Reader, justice league x male! Reader

Warning(s): mentions of blood, murder,child abuse, child testing, needles, trauma, knife's,katanas, crying

Genre: angst,sad, fluff at the end

Summary: people always believed that you were a violent person who bites at any second but deep down you were just an broken boy.

Word bank: M/N- male name

Ever since you were younger, you were taught to believe that you were nothing more than an experiment, an play thing.... a weapon. Your real father believed in nothing but cruelty and power and without those two things you were an weakly who should be cast aside to be forgotten.

When you turned 5, you started your training. Day by day, night by night you did nothing but train. No time for sleep, food, water, playing with other children your age. Not one thing an normal 5 year old should be doing. And if you did get caught doing anything but your training.... it wasn't an very beautiful and painless sight to see or hear.

Once you got to the age of 7, you were already a trained killer. Skills of any weapon, combat and the soul of a heartless monster. Your body and heart were built or more trained so you would never feel pain or react to it. If you were shot? No reaction. You were stabbed? No reaction. It was as if you were a robot. A shell of someone who had no heart or a soul.

By 10 you had already killed over a thousand people. Women, children, men, older people. Your hands were already stained with so much blood at an age no one would think would be capable of doing so. And no matter how many times you washed your hands even enough for them to be red raw or bleed.... you would always feel the dripping pain of their blood. Your father made you do it and God help if you refused.

He had an game were he would drag you to an chair, strap you down with chains and inject an liquid which made you feel the worst pain to ever exist. It was like your skin was burning off from your bones on the inside of your body. Every organ in your body exposing. It was like death itself. He would do it every day until you obeyed his cruel, Sinful wishes.

Eventually, you were some how saved by the justice league at 17. They had found out about what your father was doing to you and to others and put an stop to it. Though, you didn't go so willingly as they had hoped. You may have given them a few broken bones, added some more new scars to their bodies before Bruce sedated you. You were placed in an clear cell in the justice league HC, watched 24/7 day and night. You tried for weeks on end to break the cell but nothing you did made even a scratch nor a dent.

Bruce tried to get through to you and help clear your mind of your father's cruel training he had drilled into your mind for years. But nothing he said or did changed your mind or behaviour. It almost go to the point where you tried to break your own arm to escape from the cell. Bruce and the other league members all felt pain and anger at the fact someone would do this to someone so young. How could someone be so twisted in the head to actually do this to an child? The thought was in their heads ever since they saved you.

But after 8 long months Bruce finally made an breakthrough with you. It was small, yes, but it was something. It meant you were moving past your fathers training and becoming your own person. After that, you started to show some improvement where you could be trusted to be let out of your cell and talk to other outside of the justice league. The first being the batboys- Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian.

Surprisingly,you actully got along with Damian the most since you both had similar childhoods and shared similar interests. Jason and Tim helped you understand the modern world and how it worked. While Dick alway tried to make you laugh or smile though it never worked since you never felt joy or love before. Your face was always blank and emotionless. But the boys and the league never gave up hope that some day you would be able to smile brightly.

Over time, Bruce officially adopted you and you moved into the Manor with everyone else. It was strange at first for you to have your own room and have the choice to pick whatever you wanted. You never had that before so you didn't know how to act towards it. Bruce and the boys noticed after a few days of you living in the Manor that you still had some walls up and were worried you would lose all of your progress.

They would usually find you in the batcave trianing non-stop, even when your knuckles were bleeding from hitting the punching bag so hard to the point that it would break. You never felt the pain nor noticed the blood until Dick or Alfred mentioned something and helped bandage your wounds. This was all strange to you. It wasn't right for you. It was weird. You were trained to think that pain was nothing. That blood was nothing.

Now, you were sitting at the dinning table with everyone staring at you with worried gazes. You had bandages all around your body from your overstepping training, you held dark bags under your eyes from the lack of sleep you had gotten and you were starting to push away from them all. Bruce soon cleared his throat as he looked at you from his sit at the table. "M/N.... we need to talk about your.... behaviour and how you've been acting the past few weeks.... it's worrying us all..."

Dick was tge next to speak. "You've been training more harder lastly to the point your covered in cuts and bruises.... you barely sleep anymore or talk to us.... you're pushing us away." Dick's voice broke slightly as he was holding back his emotions. You clenched his jaw as he avoided everyone's eyes. "I'm.... fine...." he grumbled out almost in an annoyed tone.

Jason clenched his fists, his anger and worry was raising high as he heard you speak. "You're not fine, damn it!" He yelled out. "You're hurting yourself more and more! It's worrying us to death!" Jason breathed heavily as Tim patted his shoulder gently as a way to tell him to calm down. "Your not that person anymore M/N..... your away from that man.... your safe here with us." Tim's words were soft yet since filled with worry.

It was almost like everyone's words made something snap inside you and caused you to slam your fists down on the table in anger. "Shut up! Just shut up all of you!" You growled out as you glared at them with cold eyes. "I know what I'm doing! I've been doing it my whole life! It's nothing new to me!" Your emotions were getting the best of you now. "I was trained to be an weapon. It's programmed into me. I can't just get rid of it so easily! I was made this way!"

Tears pooled in your eyes for the first time and it shocked everyone. "I have killed countless people because of my father and I have to deal with that on my own..... I was made to do unspeakable things because of that bastard and I have to live with it all." Everyone looked at you with sad eyes as they listened to your words. "People thought of me as some heartless monster who was some lap dog for my father.... they believe I liked to fight and kill but it's just not true.... sometimes I'll lose my temper and blow off a little steam by training but I've never enjoyed it...." Tears flowed down your cheeks as your voice broke, "I'm not a violent person.... I don't know why I bite....."

In an heartbeat, Bruce pulled you into his chest holding you close as you sobbed out all the emotions you have been hiding for years on end. "Shhhh..... you're okay..... it's not your fault M/N...." Bruce rubbed your back in hoped to comfort you. "That man was a sick person who believed in nothing but cruelty and pain..... but your not that person..... you're a kind, sweet boy who is learning to overcome his past and become an better person for himself." He pulled you face from his chest so he could look you in the eyes. "You are loved here M/N.... you are my son and I won't ever let anything like that happen to you again I swear it..." he smiled warmly at you, hoping you'll calm down and understand his words.

You looked at Bruce as more tears formed in your eyes, but they weren't anger or sad tears like before.... they were happy ones as you smiled small at Bruce in returned which made tears form in his own eyes as well. You hugged him tighter as your head laid on his chest. "Thank you...... dad...." you muttered out causing his heart to melt slightly. You were finally letting your walls down and showing some type of emotion. Everyone was proud of you in that moment as they soon moved forward into a group hug.

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clavissionary-position · 20 days

Text

(Translation) Gilbert's Beast Manual Case 3: The Correct Way to Love Gilbert

Part 3 of Gilbert's current party event, wherein Emma learns something new about Gilbert.

Spoilers. Yeah this one's just a straight-up translation. Also I read using a translator so expect le errors. Case 1 | Case 2 | His POV

Gilbert was a fiendishly jealous man—something both he and others attested to.

Not only the men I spoke to, but women and animals as well; they all become the target of his jealousy. The same jealousy across the board.

But lately that hasn't been all.

Gilbert: This tie keeping your hair up, it gets to be with you 24/7, doesn't it?

Gilbert: ...You're so mean for setting me aside. Actually, wouldn't it be better to just wear your hair down?

Gilbert: Your chair here, doesn't it basically get to feel your warmth the entire time you're on it?

Gilbert: I'm going to hold you on my lap because it's kind of pissing me off. Sharing your body heat with a chair is more than it deserves.

Gilbert: This hallway you tread on every day—

Emma: Okay, can you please not be jealous of the literal hallway!?

The more time we spent together, the more the potential targets for his jealousy went up.

I didn't get how he could be so jealous of every little thing.

Because even though I loved Gilbert, jealousy was something I didn't really feel much of.

(Oh...)

Gilbert: —I see. So they've already completed their draft. Excellent, excellent.

Roderic: It seems experiencing your wrath this morning made them respond accordingly.

(...Roderic's here)

Having just finished my bath, I quickly hid myself in the shadows.

If I stepped out in the open wearing only my bathrobe over the black negligee Gilbert had made for me, not only would Roderic's life be in danger but mine as well.

(Still... I've never really had a chance to see Gilbert when he speaks to Roderich when I'm not around)

(...I wonder what that vibe is like)

As my curiosity got the better of me and I covertly took a peek...

Gilbert: I'd like for them to submit the draft before it ever gets to that point next time.

Roderic: It's only because nobody can come up with out-of-the-box ideas like you.

Gilbert: They're all conclusions one can arrive at rationally. It's not like I'm making unreasonable demands of anyone.

Gilbert sat at his desk, a serious expression on his face as he moved his quill.

He definitely wasn't smiling like he usually did, but at the same time he didn't seem angry either.

It was an expression I didn't recognize.

Gilbert: ...Also, the draft was poorly-constructed. With this there's too gaps for us to drive that old man into a corner.

Roderic: Then I'll have it returned to you in such a way that we can.

Gilbert: I only appreciate haste. You help them too, Roderic. I'd like to have the contents finalized before our next regular meeting.

Gilbert: If we leave that old man unchecked, he may soon start a losing battle against neighboring countries.

Roderic: ...Understood, sir.

Gilbert: What's the next document?

Roderic: It's here, sir.

Gilbert: ...I know I keep asking, but is there more still?

Roderic: There's a mountain of things I'd like you to look over.

Gilbert: I thought I'd delegated my authority out.

Roderic: This just means that Obsidian needs you.

Gilbert: That's certainly a problem.

Roderic: No, sir, it's not.

Gilbert: ...*sigh* Unless we can get everyone past the idea that failure is some sort of capital crime, won't it be difficult for you and I to manage all this work on our own?

Gilbert: Seems like my presence is a hindrance after all.

Roderic: Please don't say that!

Gilbert: Fine, fine. If you don't like it, then go give out this PSA.

Gilbert: "As long as there's no fraud or corruption at work, I won't kill you over a simple failure. So please rely on your own judgement more."

Roderic: ...Very well, sir.

(So that's the kind of vibe Gilbert has doing official duties when I'm absent)

The atmosphere about him was so serious and earnest that it naturally made me want to stand at attention, and I found myself captivated.

(If he's not smiling, then maybe that's his real expression)

(Gilbert's known Roderic for a long time, so he's able to drop his guard around him)

(...Okay, what's this gloomy feeling I'm having...)

Roderic: ...Sir, let's deal with the rest of this tomorrow.

Gilbert: Hey. You definitely didn't see anything, right?

Roderic: I saw nothing and I noticed nothing.

Gilbert: Is that so? That's fine, then. Thank you for your hard work.

Roderic quickly gathered up his documents and took his leave.

An air of nervousness seemed to cling to him as he made a beeline for the exit, not once looking astray.

The door closed behind him and Gilbert stretched out his arms as if trying to relax.

Gilbert: Now, then, little rabbit.

Emma: ...So you'd noticed me after all.

Gilbert: Well that's a given.

(I'm sorry about the position I put you in, Roderic)

Once he'd beckoned me closer, he prompted me to climb onto his lap.

Emma: Pardon me.

Knowing that my only two choices were to either sit on his lap or be made to sit, I obediently sat down of my own accord.

And Gilbert wrapped his arms around my waist to support me.

Gilbert: You were throwing Roderic such a passionate look.

Emma: I was looking at you!?

Gilbert: He was positioned in the same line of sight.

Gilbert: As you know, you have a very troublesome man on your hands. So you're aware of what you should do at a time like this, right...?

Emma: ......

I placed my hands against Gilbert's cheeks and started kissing him.

I kissed him so much that I began to feel a faint warmth from his cold lips. But when I tried to pull away, Gilbert bit my lip, leaving behind a faint stinging.

(You're still jealous, aren't you?)

Emma: ...Did I interfere with your official duties?

Gilbert: *pouts* Roderic's the one who interfered. Showing up at this hour with documents for review.

Emma: That's probably because you were busy during the day.

Gilbert: *grins* Hehe... I showed you a lot of things I don't like about Obsidian today.

Emma: ...And I want to know about even more of them from now on.

Emma: Because I also want to be able to assist you.

Gilbert: Ahaha, that's reassuring.

(...There are still so many things I don't know about Gilbert and Obsidian...)

(I'm sure some of those things are intentionally being kept hidden from me)

(Things you can talk to Roderic about, but not to me...)

Once again I felt something in my heart falter.

But before I could convince myself that I was just imagining things, Gilbert's cold fingers caressed my cheek.

Gilbert: You're pulling such a long face even though your words are so reassuring,

Emma: ...I wasn't lying.

Gilbert: I know that. So what's eating at you?

(...What's eating at me?)

Emma: ...I can't really put it to words.

Emma: It's just... I'm envious of Roderic.

Emma: He's able to assist you more than me, and knows everything...

(......)

(Oh, this is...)

The moment I realized the true nature of my anxiety, Gilbert broke into a broad smile.

Gilbert: Wow... I'll have to give Roderic a bonus.

Emma: ...I see now. So this what you've been feeling all this time.

(Well no, compared to Gilbert, my 'jealousy' is to a much lesser degree...)

Emma: Hehe... What should I do? I'm really jealous here.

(We match now.)

I wrapped my arms around Gilbert's neck and brought our foreheads together.

Even though it should have been a negative feeling, I felt laughter build up inside me, perhaps because I was one step closer in understanding Gilbert.

Gilbert: Serious jealousy is nothing like that though, you know?

Emma: Are you saying there's more to come?

Gilbert: Yeah. Your jealousy's in the early chapters.

Gilbert: The more and more you come to love me, the less you'll be able to contain that kind of adorable jealousy.

Gilbert seemed truly pleased with my jealousy.

And it was precisely because I could sense that feeling that the anxiety in my heart turned into something endearing.

Emma: I'll work diligently then.

(Because I think being jealous is the most correct way to love Gilbert)

Gilbert: Hehe... I can't believe you've cheered up this much just from turning into a jealousy fiend.

Gilbert: Taming the conquering beast is difficult, isn't it? But it might be easy for you.

Gilbert: Because I'm so madly in love with you.

------ a/n: I'm sorry for any errors! I mostly just clean up whatever the online translators spit out. Sometimes I get really lazy. Also, I haven't really done a full translation post like this in a while, so I just wanted to mention that I took the formatting and translation style from @/hotaru987 sensei!

#ikemen prince #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri jp spoilers #ikepri translation folder

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charmedreincarnation · 4 months

Text

Sorry, y'all, for the random spam, but I had a lot of things I was doing and exploring, and I now finally have the motivation to share a lot of changes that have happened in my life. Okay, so my life is pretty great, and I've been actively manifesting for a while now. But I had a problem. Outside of shifting when it comes to my manifestations, for the most part, I like them to happen in a "realistic way.” (I wasn’t like this at the beginning ofc but now I am). I know that sounds stupid, but for example, when I manifested a car, I didn’t just have it appear on my driveway. I like to be a part of the process and watch it blossom into my reality (very quickly, may I add, because I'm impatient and a "now, now, now" type person), but I like to see my creations, you know?

So I was talking about my friends about some revisions I'd like to see in my state and life, more so bigger manifestations outside of myself for my community, you know? I've been feeling very grateful, and outside of manifesting, I love to dabble in philanthropy and other hobbies, and I'd like that to intertwine with manifesting as well!

There were a few things I had in mind, but again, I'm picky and annoying, and I was like, "Hmm, how will this come to fruition in my way?" I tried to plan it out, which is like (?? Rule number one of manifestation: don't worry about the how), but I actually do like to plan things out sometimes because I'm annoying, and when it happens, I'm like, "Hehe, that was me, go shawty."

Anyways, here were a few things I wanted:

* I visited Vienna, Austria in the summer, and I found the concept of their homeless shelters very admiring. In Vienna, they have emergency flats provided by the city for safe housing in emergency situations. I wanted something like that in my state, but living in America, which is very anti-homeless, it seemed challenging. I mean they spend more money on funding anti-homeless architecture than solving the ever so rising mental health and housing crisis but that’s a topic for another day. However, I was inspired by the Vienna Women's Refuge Association and their efforts to support women in need and I wanted something like that here.

* I wanted many restaurants that I've seen in other cities I've visited to be established in my city. My city is pretty big, but for some reason, it's often ignored when it comes to those corporations. I wanted to visualize all my favorite restaurants and make a list of where I want them, downtown, by my house, etc. It wasn't coming together, and I couldn't find the desire to script it. I also wanted more unique clothing stores because I’ve gotten more into fashion these past few months.

* I wanted my city to have more of the vibes of LA and NYC, without actually moving there. I love my city, but I wanted it to have that same energy. However, I didn't know how to get to that end point like I normally do with my other desires.

Honestly, I kind of put these desires on the back burner and just forgot about them, knowing that my life is already going in the direction I want it to. Then, we began getting a lot of news about how gentrification is about to occur, and how the prices in my city are going up. There's a lot of new construction happening for seemingly no reason. It turns out a huge tech company is establishing companies in my city, which will bring in new jobs, money, and people. At first, I was annoyed, thinking these people need to stay away, but then I remembered that I literally asked for this. Gentrification and all the other things that come along with migration, jobs, and a rising economy tie into what I wanted for my city to be like NYC and LA. I'm already seeing the renovation reflect what I imagined, and I am a happy girl.

Then, the next like week or so idk, my state gave funding to my fav mall and they received a couple billion dollars for a massive renovation. At first, I thought it was irrelevant, but then I saw a list of 300 establishments, clothes stores and restaurants that will be around my mall area. Every restaurant I desired, even the ones I only thought about for a second, were on that list. It's so funny when you forget about your manifestations and they come together even better than you could imagine. The mall getting renovated is one that I visit all the time, and now I can have all my favorite indulgences in one space. I'm super excited for everything to be done.

* On that same day, I saw that my state's very conservative governor (btw I went to school with his grandson and he was asintelligent as a bag of rocks) Is opening very affordable housing for human trafficking victims. This cause is close to my heart. Though i don’t personally know any victims myself I have read of many cases on the news and trials like cyntonia brown would make my blood boil. I’m surprised I didn’t think of this of myself but I’m m glad to see steps being taken to support these survivors.

So, sometimes, when we put our desires on the back burner, they can still manifest in unexpected and amazing ways.I seriously forgot about all of this and was just living my life, not even consciously trying to manifest it, and it happened anyway. Also, this may seem very stupid, but hey, all desires should be manifested no matter how small or stupid. There's this kind of big influencer at my school, and she seems really sweet and someone who I'd get along with. She's really political and speaks her mind, and has a bunch of reels about spirituality and feminism which is really dope considering how people act on social media, especially Instagram.

Anyways, I just thought one time, like a week ago, it would be nice to be friends with her or meet her or something, and out of nowhere, she slid up on my story yesterday and messaged me 😭😭😭. It was so funny to me, but yeah, we have plans to hang out. So yeah, even though sometimes I like planning my manifestations to see them happen in color, the same thing can happen without you planning either way. It will work out better than I expected, I promise don't worry.

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #sucess story

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starlight-bread-blog · 3 months

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Katara made it very clear that she never ever wants to see Yon Rah again and most of the Zutara fandom supports that decision of hers.

So I guess the possible downside of Katara choosing to marry Zuko means sharing Zuko's burden of reforming and rehabilitating depraved war criminals like Yon Rha and all those who are even worse than him.

Then there's this whole thing with Aaron Ehasz imagining Zuko being Azula's Iroh and she reforms in that way along with my and a few other's ideas of Aang showing her how open and master her own chakras. Speaking of Iroh, does anyone remember his ruthless and brutal 600-day siege anymore? There's no way he'd avoid dropping bodies that whole time.

Looks like Katara will ironically be taking Aang's advice about forgiveness after all but I don't think it'll be necessary for Katara to look for Yon Rah again and say so.

What do you think?

Tw: War crimes, genocide and nazism.

Disclaimer: I don't know what actually happened post canon. I tried to look on internet forums and it seems as the topic wasn't addressed in the comics. For this answer, I'm going under this assumption.

Sorry for not getting to this sooner, life got busy and I didn't want to give some half assed answer to such a delicate topic. There's a lot to comment on so I'll break this down step by step.

"Katara choosing to marry Zuko means sharing Zuko's burden of reforming and rehabilitating depraved war criminals"...

The fire nation commited atrocious war crimes, leaving them with with many war criminals. War crimes are more than punishable. If it were real life, neither Katara or Zuko would have to reform and rehabilitate any of them.

An example of this would be the Nuremberg trials after WW2. Even recently, in 2022, Irmgard Furchner (an 98 year old women) faced a trial for being a secretary of a concentration camp (to put it lightly, she was very much a murderer). No one is getting away with their actions.

I read the relevant section from a Red Cross's document titled "Analysis of the punishments applicable to international crimes (war crimes, crimes against humanity and genocide) in domestic law and practice". (The section being "States’ obligations under IHL to prosecute and punish international crimes").

I found something interesting. (ID in alt text).

*Grave breaches are more serious, vile violations of humananitarian law. Everything above applies to "genocide and crimes against humanity".

If Katara were in a position of power in the Fire Nation, not only would she not have to reform anyone, she also might get to help with the trials for them.

"Then there's this whole thing with Aaron Ehasz imagining Zuko being Azula's Iroh"

I don't know about his plans for Aang's other ideas, so I can't comment on them. What I did find was a short thread of his. And after reading it, I maintain that – like most ideas – his vision can work with sensitive execution.

Azula was still very much a 14 year old victim of grooming when the series took place. Her brother can help her through her redemption under one condition – the desire to be better should come from her.

He shouldn't sit through any mistreatment whatsoever. He'll guide her through a path he already went through, but she has to walk with him. Azula needs to be safe for Zuko. Only then, redemption would be possible.

"does anyone remember [Iroh's] ruthless and brutal 600-day siege anymore?"

The difference between Iroh and Yon Rah is what they're up to now. In the present Yon Rah is just some guy living with his mother. Meanwhile Iroh took back Ba Sing Se from Fire Nation colonizers.

Yon Rah isn't out here fixing his mistakes, he just got off scot-free. On the other hand, Iroh is a changed man and took action to correct his past on the same scale.

At the end of the day redemtion isn't Aang's idea. It's one of the major themes of Atla. It wants to show that people can change and grow. So it does. Zuko changes, Mai changes, Ty Lee changes, and Iroh is their future.

He tried to conquer Ba Sing Se, and now he took it back from conquerors. He was the worst of them all, and now he's unrecognizable. He's warm, wise and sweet. There's a meaning to it.

That doesn't mean that war criminals in the current day, scums who made no affort, will get away with their crimes. That doesn't mean Katara would have to go through the mental torture of reforming her colonizers.

That is it! I hope I didn't come off as aggressive, I didn't mean to. Thank you for the ask, sorry for taking me forever to write this, and have a lovely day!

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happyandticklish · 7 months

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I've Created a Monster

So, I took the, maybe ill-advised, plunge, and told the dude I've been seeing for the past three months that I'm into tickling

And it turned out fucking great, I still cannot believe my luck in this area

Apologies if I rant for a bit. I have been living out my dreams for the past couple of weeks and need to share it with someone (outside of a few people already in the community who I've already told) or I will explode. It gets a tad TMI at the end, so I put that bit under the cut for people's comfort. So beware of that in advance

So a bit of background. I had been seeing this dude for about a month and a half when we got on the subject of kinks. At first just kind of generally discussing them, and eventually getting into what we're into. And I admitted that I had one that was a bit weird, not only because it was unorthodox, but also because I had a huge amount of trouble actually saying what it was, which of course spiked his curiosity. But he was really chill about it and didn't push, but there kept being tickly moments that kept popping up naturally in the relationship, none of which were lasting longer than a couple seconds. As such, mostly out of frustration at the brevity of these moments, I mustered up the courage at 3am to finally confess.

He was quiet for a bit and mostly just held me (I think because I definitely looked as anxious as I felt--I also have to give him props for having patience during the three fucking minutes it took me to confess because I was working up the courage to simply say the Word). Then he started asking me how long I'd known that I was into it, why I was into it, what appealed to me about tickling, things along that line, all of which I stumbled my way through answering. He then proceeded to inform me that he didn't think I was weird, or that liking tickling was weird, and that he had been expecting much worse and thought it was kind of cute.

After that, tickling started cropping up more in the relationship. It took a while to explain that I was totally okay with more intense tickling and that me squirming away and sometimes asking him to stop were reflexes that should be ignored (it was somewhat endearing how he would immediatelly stop to make sure I was good, if somewhat frustrating sometimes), but he eventually got it. He even briefly pinned me down once, a move he has yet to repeat, but eventually I will get up the courage to ask him to.

I had told him that I was into both doing and receiving the tickling, but also that he was under no pressure to get tickled if he didn't want to. But after a while we were cuddling when he said, quote, "I think I'm actually into this tickling thing. It feels kind of nice whenever you do it to me, and I do love how much it gets to you." And then gave me permission to tickle him, which was way more than I was hoping for

Although he is able to control his reactions and just stay still for it which is baffling to me ("well if I moved, it would stop happening??" yeah?? I know?? But most people can't do that shit 🤨)

Guys. He started looking into tools and shit. This man is researching into the community. Came to me all excited like a dork, talking about feathers and toothbrushes and the fucking Wartenberg Wheel and how he thinks that he'd may be be down to include bondage with tickling stuff (which I'd mentioned I'd be into before). He was all, "I also discovered that some people are into tickle torture, isn't that wild?" Meanwhile I'm over here like, "yeah, it is wild, isn't it, imagine that haha"

He's suggested safe words on his own too, worked out boundaries,,,,

Anyways. He's embraced this way more than I can image and I am living the dream

TMI under cut! Avert your eyes if shmexy things make you uncomfy!

He's also started tickling me while we fuck (and sometimes when he goes down on me) and my fellow people of tumblr. It makes everything so insanely intense. I have had to be like, "babe, I love this, this is great, but I cannot concentrate on any coherent goal if you keep this up".

Also definitely discovered that my ass is ticklish during this process and it is a fact that he will not let go. Not that I am complaining 😏

#tickling #personal #spicy #tickle moments #its been wild man #the most i was hoping for when i got with someone was to maybe occasionally engage in moments of tickling the same as any other couple #definitely not this #i am living out my wildest fantasies over here #he could definitely probably go more intense than he does go but i also havent talked to him about that at all as im working up the courage #hes also obviously fine saying The Word and thinks its weird but endearing that i cant say it #he does think its weird that im so weird about this #because hes so intensely okay about anything he discovers hes into #but he says he finds it cute so ill take the win #the boo ❤️

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months

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Unexpected 37

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You lazily eat the penne, noodle by noodle, from the plate balanced on your stomach. The evening air cools as Suzanne sits close by, her pasta mostly untouched as she sips non-alcoholic wine from a glass.

Lloyd has been elusive since his return, though you've heard some telltale banging. He continues to haunt you like some Poe horror.

"I couldn't do it," Suzanne trills, "I can barely stand more than an hour with the jackass and I get paid to."

"Mmm, yeah, wasn't exactly my first choice, but accidents happen. Actually, you know him, no such thing as an accident, more a lack of accountability."

"Oh, ew," she scrunches her nose, "he didn't strike me as the baby type."

"Me either which is why… well, nevermind."

You spear another noodle and carefully angle it past your lips, trying not to dribble any sauce. It's been a while since you had someone you could just talk to. Dottie is a great support but she's still Lloyd's mother.

"What?" She prompts as she leans her chin in her hand.

"Oh, you know, I'm the mother. Means I'm gonna be doing all the work. And why? Because he thought it would be fun… he gets to have the shiny bright moments and I'll be changing diapers and cleaning up puke."

"Typical," she snarls. "Never likes to get his hands dirty."

She takes another sip of wine and she slowly puts the glass down. Her lips slant as a thought sparks in her eyes. She points at you and clicks her tongue.

"What happened with the mustache?"

"What do you mean?"

"He shaved. Months ago. Was that you?"

You cackle as you recall that. It was rather amusing to witness the shame and panic of his drunken mistake. You rest your fork against the rim of the plate.

"Did it himself. Got blitzed off his face and just, shoop, gone," you make a motion above your lip, "idiot."

“Ha, wow. Damn. I was hoping you had a bit of vengeance on the prick. I mean… you still could. Wait til he falls asleep…” she smirks, “you know once, were were on a flight and I probably could’ve done it.”

“I’m already expecting one baby, I don’t need another,” you scoff. “Here, can you get this?”

You lift the plate and hold it out to her. She’s quick to take it and puts it beside her own. You plant your hands on the sides of the chair and grunt, pushing yourself up with excruciating effort. You manage to sit forward, breathless.

“Jeez, you need help?” She hovers near you.

“Probably,” you struggle to turn your legs over the edge.

“Is it really that miserable?” She asks.

“What? Being with him?”

“I mean, that too, but being pregnant,” she offers her arm.

“Eh, it’s just the cherry on top of an already stacked shit sandwich.”

“I see why he’s with you,” she snorts, “you are both very creative. Disgustingly so.”

You roll your eyes and grab onto her arm. Before you can stand, you hear your name. Not ‘peaches’, not ‘baby face’, not ‘sweet cheeks’, your name. Lloyd stomps out, waggling his finger.

“Suzanne, step away from my wife.”

“Huh?’

Suzanne twists to face Lloyd, “Christ, I’m helping her.”

“No, you’re not,” he storms down, shoulder back, nostrils flaring, “she’s not supposed to be walking around.” He comes up to you and puts his palm up to stop you, “I’ll take care of her.”

“Lloyd, I can make it inside.”

“The doctor said–”

“God, I know what the doctor said,” you hiss.

“So listen. Neither of us wanna end up back in the hospital, now do we?”

You sigh. You and Suzanne share a look. You recognise the dull twinkle in her eye. You’re kindred spirits. Cursed with the nuisance of this man, only she gets to walk away.

“So, Suzanne,” Lloyd plants a hand on your shoulder as he faces his colleague, “you on your way out?”

“Um, I guess, but–”

“That’s great, I don’t need to show you out, do I?”

She smiles dryly and tilts her head, “not at all. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Lloyd sputters.

“Oh yeah, we’re doing lunch, right, babe?” She looks at you expectantly.

Your brows lift and you take a second to register what she’s doing. You nod. “Uh, yep, yeah, that’ll be great.”

“Peaches, you should be relaxing. You’re all tense,” Lloyd squeezes your shoulder, “I can feel it–”

“So that probably means she needs a nice back rub, huh,” Suzanne suggests with a devilish glint in her eye.

Lloyd clucks, “yeah, I guess it does so… leave.”

Suzanne chuckles. She raises her palms and backs away. “Fine, I’ll fuck off. For now.”

Lloyd sneers at her as she slowly turns and she struts off proudly, fishing in her pocket until her car chirps and unlocks. You watch her get in and deflate, just a little. It’s just you and him. Again.

You shrug Lloyd’s hand away and rub your stomach, keeping one hand on the lounger. As Suzanne backs down the driveway, you issue a glum sigh. Without her to distract you, you feel ever pang and pinch in your muscles.

“Alright, where to?” Lloyd faces you.

“Huh?”

“Sofa, bath… bed?” He winks, “I think I could help ease the tension.”

“Just… inside,” you mutter, “please.”

He pauses. You avoid his gaze as you look out across the yard. It’s only then the heavy epiphany settles over you. This place is a prison. It’s the last place you’ll live for the rest of your life. With him and soon his child. You’ll never be without a warden to keep you in line.

“Alright,” he bends and scoops you up, slowly, with effort. You feel horrible as he turns cautiously, steps stunted and stiff.

“Lloyd, you’re going to hurt yourself doing this,” you hook your arm around his shoulders and try to ease the weight.

“I’m fine,” he grunts as he gets to the door.

You reach for the door to open it. He turns and sidles in awkwardly. It’s a tight shuffle but he makes it inside. He carries you back to the living room and sits you on the couch. He stands, cheeks tinged and forehead sweaty.

“Tea?” He offers.

“No,” you recline with a groan, “why are you being nice?”

“I’m your husband.”

“You were yelling at me an hour ago.”

“Because I’m worried.”

“About me or the baby?”

He sniffs and grips his hips, “both.”

“Eh, sure,” you dismiss him flatly, “I just wanna lay her. Alone.”

“Well that’s not going to happen,” Lloyd states.

“Of course,” you grumble.

“I am going to rub your back and you’re going to relax. You need to, peaches, for yourself as much as the kid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter. “Really, don’t bother–”

He pushes you up, grasping your shoulders as he angles onto the couch behind you. He sits between you and the arm, hooking his leg around you as he settles in. He rolls his thumbs into you, forcing a moan from your lips as you muscles contract in response.

“Feels good?” He asks.

“Erm,” you refuse to indulge him.

“Come on, baby face.”

You’re quiet as you hang your head forward. You’ll enjoy it but you don’t have to admit it. You hug your stomach as he slides his hands down your back, pressing his knuckles into each knot.

“Do you always have to ruin everything?” You ask at last.

“What?”

“Chase away everyone. What am I not allowed to have friends?”

“What–”

“If you don’t want me… like this,” you gesture helplessly, “you have to give me something, anything, that doesn’t make me absolutely miserable.”

He exhales and his hands keep moving. You let your head drift to the side as you laze into his touch.

“You don’t know Suzanne. She’s… well, she’s a lot like me.”

“Funny, cause she said the same about me.”

“Oh, really,” he scoffs.

“Yeah, think you’ve rubbed off on me.”

“Hell yeah I have,” he snickers, “rub off to you and over you, on you…”

“Would you– do you ever just stop?”

He hums and puffs out through his nose, “alright, peaches, you’re right. You can’t be all alone all the time. Just…keep those walls up. You got good instincts.”

“Mmm, yeah, just bad luck.”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #dark!lloyd hansen #drabble #au #series #unexpected #the gray man

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stusbunker · 30 days

Text

Spotless: Pizzicato

Chapter Nineteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela, Dean/Cas (unrequited)

Other characters: Miriam Talbot (OFC Bela's mother)

Word Count: 2567

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, putting out other people's fires, and old baggage, unbeta'd

A/N: Castiel and Trouble's friendship is something I didn't realize she had been missing until he was in front of her. There are a couple of big truth bombs in this chapter and I hope I handled them respectfully. This is an AU and it is not indicative of this author's feelings on canon or any other fandom shipping practices.

Series Masterlist

Posting on Dean’s instagram account was par for the course as the band’s publicist. You bothered to know what a hashtag was, for one. For another it also allowed you to check traffic on posts and actively moderate things to help the comment section look best for Dean’s image. Afterall, Dean trusted you, you weren’t going to leak anything or make him look like an idiot.

You were a goddamn professional and this wasn’t the hardest thing you’d done in the last year, but Jesus fuck were you pissed.

Dean hated tattoos. Really, he hated needles. He was black out drunk when he and Sam got their matching flaming pentagrams. He actually had a panic attack the next morning after realizing he let someone “sew ink” into his skin. By sheer force of will and through the bond of shared grief, you got him to go with you for Jo’s memorial tattoo on the tenth anniversary of her death. It was in your all-time top five ultimate Dean-Y/N memories.

And now it meant jack shit.

You edited and cropped the photos, sent two back to Bela to post on her account and then posted the lion’s share onto Dean’s, making him look like the diligent boyfriend while Bela was busy in the chair. You thanked Billie for taking care of “his girl” and made sure the shop was the location and tagged. You wanted to punch something, it looked so good. Then you sat back and let the interwebs do its job.

Okay, in actuality, you emailed about twenty different people, had a conference call with the tour management marketing team, scheduled radio station drop ins and followed up with Meg on the expected release of Dean’s photoshoot and interview. These days it may just end up online, but you hoped she was able to score him real physical print space.

It was just as you were winding down for the night, when your phone rang. It was past any reasonable business hours and you were already done with your skin care routine, but then you saw the caller id.

“Miriam! Hi!” You tried to sound pleasantly surprised.

“Don’t Miriam me, young lady. What is going on out there? Is it drugs? I thought we missed this stage when she quit acting for college. You’d tell me if this hoodlum was pressuring her into risky behavior wouldn’t you?”

Which was a lot to unpack right off the bat like that, luckily you had experience dealing with Bela’s mother.

“It’s just a tattoo. She’s not on drugs, I promise.”

“And what about this Dean? I knew they were seeing each other, but this seemed a bit more intimate— not exactly in the public eye.”

Oh, she was good.

“He’s not on drugs either. And—- he actually isn’t thrilled with tattoos. This might be all Bela, if I’m being honest.”

“Have you seen the things they’re saying? The things they’re calling her, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes and heaved yourself out of bed, you needed your laptop if you were going to continue this conversation rationally.

“Let me look into it— what site were you on?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. Olivette, one of the boardmember’s wives, told me she read about it online during dinner.”

You inhaled deeply and started your usual rotation of sites, you’d have to add some new tags to follow Bela’s buzz more closely going forward.

“And you’re sure this wasn’t just bad blood from Olivia? I’m not finding much besides general surprise.”

“It’s Olivette. And yes, I’m certain. She wouldn’t make me worry without a reason.”

And then you realized what you were missing, it wasn’t just People or TMZ you had to worry about. You went to Hello!’s twitter and you found what had Miriam Talbot’s friend in a huff.

You started scanning the comments, gathering the most common complaints and judging their amount of influence via cursory glances. You did not know a lot of the news personalities or celebrity bloggers in the UK. You were going to have to meet with Bela and figure out a better approach going forward.

“Okay, Miriam, it’s almost eleven here. I know you probably called me as soon as you woke up, but consider me on the case. Alright? Bela’s fine and this is just a minor hiccup.”

“If you’re sure, Y/N, dear.”

You sighed. “Of course. I would warn you if there was anything to worry about. But please just let this run its course. You know how the tabloids are.”

“Unfortunately I do, that’s why I called. Please keep me updated if anything else comes up?”

“Will do. You have a good ni-day!”

“Goodnight dear— and thank you.”

You smiled at your lap. “Anytime.”

You let her hang up. Then you promptly pulled up your contacts list and warned Bela that her mother was sniffing about online and to call her at a decent hour. And finally, you spent the next four hours (or so) online until you had swam to the bottom of the cesspool and decided it wasn’t worth your time. At least not right then, not so exhausted.

Three days passed since the snobby UK gossip rags’ judgment rained down and, as expected, it had already just about fizzled out. You sat in a cafe with a quad shot flat white, waiting for your lunch date to arrive. Not truly a date, though it wasn’t a meeting either.

It was a diplomatic mission.

Then you spotted him and your stomach swooped, feeling the loss of his presence in your life all over again.

“Hey, Cas.” You stood and held your arms open for a hug, which he accepted with a timid smile.

“It’s good to see you, Trouble,” his gravelly voice murmured in your ear. He still smelled the same.

You pulled back and looked him in the eye, searching for anything but the sincere blue reality in front of you. He held no grudges, not with you, without even discussing it you knew he was still your friend.

You then punched him squarely in the shoulder. “That’s for ghosting us all for the last nine months, assbutt!”

He grunted, and rolled his eyes. “I can accept that.”

“Good. Because I missed you. We all miss you.”

He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in challenge.

“So— heard you have a kid, huh. That’s —- weird.”

Castiel exhaled and shook his head. “Who told you?”

“What? Nobody. I have eyes. And spend enough time online to draw some conclusions.”

“Kelly told you.”

“She didn’t have to. She’s amazing by the way— are you a thing now, now that you know he exists?”

Castiel looked affronted. “Me and Kelly? Oh, no. That was a teenage mistake. We were young. And we’ve both matured into vastly different people. But I respect her and I think— I hope I’ve earned her trust.”

“Tell me about him—- he’s what? Twenty-twenty one?”

“He’s twenty three and very talented. Kind, impossibly optimistic even.”

“Yikes, tough combo out here.”

“Tell me about it.”

You shared a look and he smiled at you like he knew what you were thinking about. Like you were reliving the same joke.

You blinked away the sting in your eyes.

“Go get your dark roast and get back over here, we’ve got things to discuss.”

His eyes softened, but Cas didn’t argue with you.

You sipped your drink and tried not to let all of the questions that had been building for months run away from you. He was back both too quickly and too slowly. You cleared your throat, the awkwardness you had been fighting back rushed to the surface.

“So— I presume there is more to you calling to get lunch. Not just asking about Jack and goading me about my latest tattoo?” Cas wasn’t one for small talk.

You nodded and swallowed around another perfect mouthful of milk and espresso.

Castiel’s face went through a journey when you didn’t quickly reply. “He doesn’t want to see me—- he made that quite clear.”

“And what about since everything?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know Dean’s called you. He might not have been big enough to actually apologize in a voicemail, but I know he wants to fix things— he misses you as his friend, too.”

“Then he should be able to suck up his pride and make the effort,” Cas snipped, the first sign of the lingering anger from his and Dean’s fight.

“I haven’t exactly seen much of your effort. Do you not want to fix things?--- And I’m not talking about coming back to the band— that ship has sailed. I’m talking about twenty years of friendships you just walked out on.”

Cas stared at his coffee, his eyebrow ring arched with his bitchy expression. He hated being corrected, you knew that. But this had gone on long enough.

“I’ve spoken with everyone but Dean,” Cas explained. “It’s not perfect, but it’s progress.”

“You never spoke to me,” you spat.

Cas’ eyes softened again. “I always knew where your loyalties lie, you took your time, too.”

“Wait— even SAM?!”

“Sam and I haven’t lost contact this whole time.”

You sucked in air. “Oh, he is so dead.”

“Y/N. It wasn’t like we were plotting or anything. He was worried about me, I was worried about Dean.”

“Yeah, but if Dean knew—”

“Ask Sam, but I don’t think he could hide anything from Dean if he wanted to.”

You knew he was right. Ever since Sam got sober, transparency had been something Sam put into his closest relationships anyway. Beside Dean being ruthless and stubborn, well, you supposed Cas was right.

“Why do I feel like this band just doesn’t want me to be able to do my job?”

“Your position as group therapist is fairly tenuous. Especially with Pamela involved.”

“I meant my real job. If I had known you were on decent terms with, well, everyone but Dean, it would have made things a lot easier, young man.” You couldn’t help but smile now. Sure you were hurt, but the eggshells you had been stepping over for so long really only took up a single corner of the floor.

It was freeing.

“I never meant to cause you any distress.”

“That doesn’t make it go away, Cas.”

He bowed his head, but popped back up to meet your gaze. “I know. I apologize. I didn’t want you to think that I was done— with any of you.”

You pinched your eyes closed quickly and then reached over the table to squeeze his forearm. “Okay. So— you’ll come to Dean’s birthday party, then?”

Cas patted your hand with his left and sat back, breaking the contact and sat with the invitation for a heavy moment.

“What makes you think he’d want me there?”

You glared at him, all tattooed and handsome and absolutely clueless about how much his absence has affected Dean. Sure, Dean got to keep the band, but it wasn’t the same without Cas. Cas has had to start over entirely, become a dad and rebuild his career all without any of the support Dean has had around him through his own troubles.

“Look— I know you’re Mister Independent and I don’t want to set back any of the progress you’ve made without him needing you around. But he still looks for you whenever we all go out. And hanging out with Kevin, made it abundantly clear to him that you were available— you just weren’t interested.”

“Why do you always make it sound like we were an item?”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, we all know Dean has attachment issues. I’m not saying anything was kinky between you guys— that’s not my business. But, as friends, you guys deserve to at least get some answers— closure or forgiveness can come later, if you get there.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that to get me off your case?”

“Yes, really.”

You smirked and Cas’ smiled with his eyes, fidgeting his lip ring with his tongue.

Cas cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee before changing gears. “So, your friend Bela and, uh, Dean?”

You groaned and hid your eyes in your hand. When you looked up he was laughing at you.

“What?!”

“Stop— we both know what it’s all about.”

“Kevin seems to think Dean’s whipped.” Mischief continued to dance in Cas’ eyes.

“Well, it’s about time.”

“I told him, the only one who has had Dean whipped in over a decade is you.”

You choked on your spit, sputtering at Cas’ bluntness.

“They don’t know it’s for show do they?”

You inhaled deeply. “Sam knows. Dean and Bela have their own private agreement about it all. But, uh, yeah, you pretty much guessed right.”

Cas watched you thoughtfully, futzing with his lip ring with his top teeth now.

“How are you holding up?”

“Me? I’m fine, why?”

Cas nudged your ankle under the table with his combat boot.

“As someone who was definitely in love with him for most of my life— I know the symptoms.”

You sighed and shivered at being seen and having your long held suspicions confirmed. You rubbed your upper arm, trying to fight the goosebumps. “I’m fine. Nothing has changed. He’s just been working on himself and that is— distracting.”

Cas hummed, head cocking to the side as if looking at you with a different angle would give him more insight.

“I mean it. He’s in therapy and everything. Sam and him are working out. He’s been insanely focused on the latest album—”

“He’s doing penance.”

“Maybe. But he wants to be better. It’s not just guilt. I don’t know how to explain it. But, you’ll see what I mean.”

Cas eyebrow popped up again.

“You will,” you insisted.

“You always were able to read me weren’t you?”

You chuckled at the back of your mouth, short and knowing. “Guess it comes with being stuck with each other for so long.”

“Shared trauma response,” Cas teased.

“Or that.”

You finished the last of your drink and looked around the cafe.

“So, where we going to eat? I think we’ve had enough heavy— sushi?”

“You buying?”

“Phantom Traveler is covering this as a business lunch.”

Cas stood and pushed in his chair. “Okay, well then, bring on the seafood.”

You stood and let Cas walk you outside, his hand on the small of your back until he could offer you his elbow on the sidewalk. You smiled up at him and pulled him tight to your side.

“I’m glad you’re back, Cas.”

“Well, we’ll see if everyone agrees with you, won’t we?”

The afternoon passed quickly, catching up and sharing memories that were now tinted with the grief of the last lost year. Things made more sense the longer you thought about how the band had been acting, especially way back at the Animal Shelter where Cas’ niece had been more than willing to put in her two cents. You texted Sam while you waited for your meals, warning him where you were and what you knew.

‘Have fun.’

His only response. Asshole.

But everything kept from you, kept from Dean, wouldn’t last forever. It couldn’t. Now you at least could control the narrative a bit more by being in on it all. Or most of it at least.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Twenty: Arpeggio

#spotless series #rockstar au #slow burn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean angst #dean/reader #dean/bela #friends to lovers #it's no longer a love triangle or maybe it was bela who made it a square

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pianostarinwonderland · 5 months

Note

I'm curious do you think that it's possible to have a healthy relationship with Azul??

I've been reading a lot of Azul x reader fanfics and they're all Nice and all, but it also got me thinking of an actual healthy relationship with Azul Coul be possible? since you know he has a lot of issues and since your a Azul Stan and you seem to know him quite well, do you think it's possible??

OOOOOOH rubs hands gleefully I love this ask holy shit

So I'm going to start this by saying that a lot of this is my opinion, and it's one that's formed by not just how I read Azul but also by experiences I've gone through with relationships, both romantic and platonic. I'll try to give an essay that's as close to his character as possible, but this is already written with biases.

So anyway, the short answer to this is: Yes. I believe you can have a healthy relationship with Azul. But it's going to take a fucking long time till you even get there, and you really have to prove that you're not only a good friend to begin with, but someone trustworthy and someone with a dash of Fucked Up to understand him.

The long answer?

One of the first things about Azul that must be understood when you write him in a romantic setting is that his view on relationships is damaged. And I mean that with italics. It's not exactly a secret with his transactional mindset. He follows the give and take policy, contract or no contract. The best example you'll see of this is his PE Uniform story, with how he didn't want Jamil to give him flying lessons, not until Jamil asked for a price. He's not into gifts either, because he'd give something back to you anyway, which you see in his first Valentine's letter.

But if we dig deeper, this also may stem from his home environment and past bullying.

Starting with the home environment, his parents divorced. It must have left an impression on him, all the more if there were arguments in the household. First impressions last, and there may always be that little reminder in his head that many relationships can fall apart, even with an official contract in place.

Then the nature of Coral Sea and his past with bullying. Jade in his Platinum Jacket story (TL by mysteryshoptls) narrates a time when some sharks didn't fulfill their promises to him.

Jade: I wouldn’t say that… Back in the ocean, there were a few sharks that had refused to honor their promises. As I was entreating them to fulfill their duty, they all decided to bilk their promise altogether.

Coral Sea doesn't seem to be a very friendly environment, at least in the perspectives of the Octavinelle trio. They also seem to be discriminated against, with Azul's being pretty obvious and the tweels more on the speculation side. Thus, Azul was prone to that sort of unfriendliness and even betrayal. It wouldn't be surprising if some merfolk or animals did the same thing that the sharks did to Jade.

Overall, Azul's relationship with... relationships is not exactly healthy due to the circumstances he grew up with, and that has to be taken note of.

However, I do believe that Azul wants to connect with someone deeply. And it's probably one of his biggest yearnings. It seems ironic that he being so guarded and transactional with people would yearn for such a connection. But honestly, it's the very guarded people who desire that kind of relationship the most. It's tiring to carry your guard up all the time. Wouldn't it be great for once to have a relationship where you just don't have to keep it up anymore?

I think there's reason to believe that Azul is hopeful for such a connection to enter his life too. His mom found a second man, and from the few stories that he shared of his family, she and her new partner seem to be doing really well. Azul calls him 'father', and has described him to be kind and sensitive. And their relationship is likely to have started when Azul was still very young, if we assume that the restaurant boomed in business during his mom's second relationship. So Azul may have witnessed his mom's divorce really young, but he also saw early on that there can be a relationship that thrives with the right person.

To a big extent, you'll see this desire he has to have a deep connection with people in canon. An obvious but still notable one is Azul and his relationship with Jade and Floyd. A big part of his OB had to do with the two of them not following him and Floyd calling him lame. The Octavinelle CM exhibits this attachment he has to them as well. In Jade's Platinum story, Jade says he occasionally gives Azul coins. In Floyd's Lab card lines, he states that he'd give Azul shiny things on occasion. They both give Azul these gifts, and there's no hint that Azul gives them something in return, which is unlike his usual principle of give and exchange.

Outside of the twins, you also can see that it is possible to get Azul to be comfortable with someone. Book 6 showcases this at the end of the Riddle-Azul tower, when Azul fell asleep on Riddle's shoulder. This is after clearing their huge misunderstanding about why Riddle is often shielding Azul. Azul thought Riddle was underestimating his strength, but his reason for shielding Azul is just so he wouldn't have to treat a mer without a license or he'd be breaking the law. And it's so Riddle coded that Azul easily took it as the truth and saw that Riddle was really looking out for him. The progression of trust being built in this case seems pretty quick, sure, but it has to be noted too that Azul knew Riddle for more than a year at this point. They're both some of the top scorers in their year level, and they're fellow dorm leaders who have worked together. And Azul definitely knows Riddle's honesty and strict adherence with all kinds of rules, so it helps him trust Riddle more.

Honesty is not the only thing that Azul needs, though. He likely wants to connect with someone who's got that brand of fucked up like him. And this is where I bring up his dynamic with Jamil.

For this part, I'd like to link this wonderful thread made by @/kennae_bae because it highlights a few things I want to discuss here. This thread is mainly in the light of Azul/Jamil, but it goes into the need for connection that they both have as individuals. Of course, for the purposes of this essay, we mainly focus on Azul.

To an extent, Azul's view on Jamil gives us an idea of what he does when he wants to connect with certain folks. Firstly, it's seen in how he likes to approach Jamil a lot more so than other characters. He's offered on more than one occasion for Jamil to transfer to Octavinelle, which the thread has elaborated on. Even though he sees benefit in getting closer to other characters like Malleus (which has been shown in both Halloween Azul and Lab Sebek vignettes), he gives this offer to Jamil because he knows his potential. Azul is the type to see the strengths and potential of most people, and usually, he'd either see use for it or simply comment and do nothing with it if there's no benefit. But Jamil is different; it's true that if Azul just wants him to work at the lounge, he'd be much more forward with it and name a price. However, by wanting Jamil to join Octavinelle, and thus work together with him, Azul is also implying that he wants Jamil in a closer circle of friends.

But that's just one small part of it. I think the part that really shows his yearning to connect with someone like Jamil is in Book 4-34, when Azul gives his own thoughts about the situation between Kalim and Jamil:

Azul: The things you say out of unwavering faith in others will rub people like Jamil or I the wrong way. Rather, to those who live their lives on a budget, it sounds like condescending sarcasm. (TL by shel_bb)

Notice how Azul mentions himself along with Jamil in that one sentence. In that line alone, it sounds like he's connecting himself with Jamil because he feels that they are similar. And that acts as reassurance to Azul, that there's someone else (outside of Jade and Floyd) that could understand his pains.

However, having similar traumas and everything isn't a huge requirement to get to connect with Azul. If it was, he definitely would have let Jamil teach him flying in his PE story. But if he can at least see that you can understand the things he goes through (and maybe even empathize just slightly), it definitely opens up gates to having a deeper relationship with him.

Now okay, we really just covered one half and a bit of the question: is a relationship with Azul possible? Yes. But now we have to address the other half: the healthy relationship part.

To which case, I would say yes. I think the longevity of his relationship with Jade and Floyd is already a testament to this in some way, and all three of them have stayed together in spite of his overblot.

Now this is definitely biased, but I believe a glimpse of a possible healthy relationship with Azul can be found in Book 3-38. After everything that had transpired, Azul goes to return the photo to the Atlantica museum. And I believe most of you reading this will know this conversation.

Azul: I thought that if I could erase all the photos from my past, my time spent being bullied as a "dumb clumsy octopus" would vanish with them. The Sea Witch never hid her dark past but faced it and worked to overwrite her reputation. I kept saying I wanted to be like her, but... in the end, I couldn't accept who I was and tried to act like it never happened. (TL by shel_bb)

In this segment, we have Azul becoming vulnerable to us about his feelings. And I think this is important to bring up because (1) most of the OB characters do not get this vulnerable about their feelings post-OB (aside from Vil, who even then had a professional front when he apologized to the NRC Tribe), and (2) you just don't get Azul sharing something so vulnerable very often. He usually keeps his feelings unsaid so that people don't potentially use them against him. Yet there he is, admitting to you the reason why he wanted the photo he made you steal. And then Yuu reassures him and compliments him, to which Azul responds with:

Azul: My... hard work? Pfft. There is no need for you to flatter me. I only wanted to get back at those who had made fun of me for so long.

And that's all said with a smile. He's happy to get those compliments. =w=

But to cap it off, a healthy relationship with Azul means that it's a relationship where he can let himself be vulnerable to the other person. It is definitely huge bonus points if the other is not only trustworthy but also someone that can understand him somehow.

However, it definitely still takes him a lot of time, especially with how much he goes through. I think that's why you really have to prioritize friendship in order to have a healthy relationship with him. Being able to have a good lasting friendship with Azul would let him trust that you'd be a great partner in life. It definitely will take years, but when you can connect and be open and honest together, a healthy relationship with Azul is possible.

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #ask

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weebsinstash · 11 months

Note

God devout protector Miguel after the you two incident would be AMAZINGLY AWFUL. Man will full on strap your ass to him in like a baby carrier kind of fashion, you wouldn’t leave his sight, let alone his reach.

And the other spiders would be crossed between being mad jealous but also relived because if anyone can keep you on lock, it would be Miguel.

If you did try and leave again tho I FIRMLY believe man would go full feral, foaming and running on all fours, just to get you again.

But also? He’s totally crying the first time he gets to fuck the real you. Man will swear there’s a diff between you and your dopple.

(Post contains across the spiderverse spoilers for Miguel's backstory/family)

Bruh I keep thinking of tons of ways to torture Miguel/the Reader, why do I have a fetish for writing fucking drama like this is some lifetime movie real housewives levels of drama, and I was thinking of a really specific scene sort of idea. So imagine a big reason YouTwo starts trying to steal your identity, really THE reason, is because YOU didn't realize "the severity of your surroundings" in the sense that you don't realize your spidey sense is going off half the time because a big portion of this community is stalking you, but YouTwo DOES. Like lmao, it's not even, totally out of spite against you that they steal your life either, YouTwo may just also share some of your massive insecurity issues and they see how so much of the Spider Society outright adores you and wants that for themselves, they want to feel important and loved, shit maybe YouTwo is even an anomaly who was never supposed to be a Spider but you were and that furthers their own mental health issues

I really like the idea of like, Reader and Miguel having kind of a slow burn undefined relationship which actually plays a role in exposing YouTwo or. Something lol. Idk I kind of struggle sometimes, tone wise, with writing yandere who are just like outright delusional and not at least partially lucid and, I typically don't go for those "I was drooling at the mouth the second i saw you" characterizations myself (not because I don't like them but, I'm apparently obsessed with "having emotional tension build up")

So, imagine if one point in the past Reader had gotten drunk and Miguel was taking them home because a super drunk and clumsy Spider who can crawl up any surface with super strength could be a potential disaster (did yall know Miguel can lift TEN TONS, that's 20,000 pounds, uh, uh, uh, sir thats actually terrifying i think you could deadass One Punch Man, fucking, Doomfist punch an entire fucking skyscraper) and at some point you just kind of. It's a little earlier on in how you know him and imagine you just kind of very extremely sloppily come onto him, just kind of a "fuck it he's handsome and I'm drunk why not just go for it" moment

you kiss him on the lips, and he just totally freezes and, you know, despite him actually having some developing feelings for you, unhealthy obsessive feelings gradually increasing over time, he's not exactly at the Having Sex With You stage yet, or, perhaps he already is but, you're too drunk for him to be comfortable sleeping with you because He's A Good Catholic Boy And Your First Time Together Must Be Special or, he has to be more drunk too so it feels a little less uhhhhh dubcon-y (I also keep thinking about, as a separate concept separate from YouTwo stuff, what if you both got drunk to the point both of you kind of forget who you slept with last night until Miguel remembers but you don't and he's like "oh shit did I actually remember to use protection or was i too drunk and excited in the heat of the moment" and, oh hey wouldn't you know it, Reader just missed their period, when applicable obviously)

But anyways Miguel just gently rejects your advances and, actually is, emotionally vulnerable for a while, like he respects you enough to explain his reasoning and then some, telling you, hey, it's been kind of a long time since he's, you know, been with someone In That Way, he DID used to have a fiance who had been pregnant when she died, and after losing them both as a canon event, and then losing "them" a second time, his heart is just. Still healing after all this time. And I imagine Reader is embarrassed as fuck but also you're crying but it's actually a good crying because you're like "dude i think its so beautiful that you love them that much that they're still kept close to your heart after all this time" and it actually makes you love and respect him MORE, his strength, his devotion, and the two of you just sit there and talk until you eventually pass out and THIS is a huge moment that furthers his obsession with you because he gently set a boundary where he's technically rejecting you, denying you something you want, and you're basically like "dude that's so fucking badass of you, you're like the strongest man I know, sir its an honor working with a man like you"

For one, imagine the fucking pain if after that experience with you, he winds up eventually having his "first time" with YouTwo and you walk in on it and that like, completely breaks your heart because it's like. Wow fuck we've been coworkers and, weirdly defined not-dating-but-everyone-jokes-we're-married status for like maybe a year and a half even, and he just suddenly, in your perception, replaces you with some... cheap copy? What was wrong with you? What did they have that you don't? Why weren't you good enough 🥺 like I imagine at this plot point Reader is already SEVERELY depressed and you just find a man you, you like genuinely LOVE seemingly replacing you with someone who looks and sounds just like you but somehow YOU aren't good enough. Like. Bro it hurts you so fucking bad, part of me thinks you just go to your apartment and don't come out for like a straight week and that makes you feel even worse because YT is still running around fooling people and not everyone notices your absence so one comes to check on you and it furthers your mental illness that "no one cares about me" when that couldn't be farther from the truth

Absolutely torturing this man with the concept of, you guys never sleep together (yet) but YouTwo just kind of automatically assumes from The Vibes they get from the pair of you that SOMETHING must be going on and, during what I'll call the big confrontation, where YouTwo is cornering you with other Spiders who accuse you of being the fake and they're kicking you out, you weaponize that you know things THEY don't. You're standing there desperately trying to think of how to prove your innocence and you take one look at Miguel and the way he's absolutely glaring you down, almost looking at him in a sort of "wait, I want you to see this" kind of way before you look at YouTwo and fall into a character of your own "so how long have you been sleeping with my man? What, i warm him up for you and you steal my boyfriend?" Or something to that effect, and YouTwo is just kind of like, "oh PUH LEASE, Miguel and I have a much deeper relationship than just the physical, you have no right to talk like you know him" and they sidle up to him rather intimately and meanwhile Miguel's expression just DROPS. He looks to you while you stand there glitching out without your wristwatch and you're looking at him with the biggest saddest fucking boo boo eyes and you just kind of like, solemnly bow your head, "it was an honor working with you, sir" and he's just like OH F U C K, man is RUSHING, he scrambles to try and put his own watch on you but it's too late, there's not enough time, he reaches out to save you and your form disappears from this reality just as he's about to snap the cuff on your wrist

Like deadass it isn't your fault, but, you RE-TRAUMATIZE this man. His wife and unborn child, the replacement family, now YOU, and YOU were totally innocent and this was even more his fault than the first two things, like, he is one more major incident away from becoming an addict or a barely functioning alcoholic by the time you stumble back into his dimension by accident

I imagine he and the other betrayed Spiders deadass put scars on YouTwo's face and body so there can never be any mistaking who they are ever again and they're exiled back to their home dimension (and I mean if they kill themselves Miguel just kind of shrugs like "that was their choice" and also I wonder if that would break canon for that universe and kill everything in it or deadass there would just be another replacement Spider and suddenly everyone is like oh wow YouTwo was a fake anomaly all along)

But gooooodddddd, thinking of both Reader and Miguel after the return. Both of y'all are traumatized and you're basically scared of him now, it's hard for you to trust him or anyone else at all, meanwhile Miguel is DESPERATE to try and make things up to you while you're flinching when he reaches for you. I imagine the man starts being more openly affectionate with you. More hands on your shoulder, a pat on the head, he asks Lyla to watch you while he goes to refill his coffee and gives you a kiss on the temple on his way out, meanwhile Reader is just, you know, probably desperately needing therapy at this point, thinking "do I or don't I trust him", but also still having all of those happy memories with him and everyone else and you're just, even if you wanted to you're too physically weak from being lost in the multiverse for several months to really escape if you wanted to

Deadass think at this point the man would microchip you like a cat. Oh, so Miguel has to worry about fakes of his loved ones showing up now, as if he isnt dealing with 2099 other things right now? He'll show them! He'll microchip your ass so he can track you and confirm your identity at all times! Maybe he'll just microchip everyone! Or he'll put some sort of system feature in all the bracelets where they all have ID numbers and such so no one can pretend they aren't who they say they are! He's not mentally ill, he's just well intentioned, promise :)

While you're recovering from bouncing around all the different universes, healing any fractures or broken bones, overcoming any fevers or infections, he is INVOLVED in your care. He's constantly asking any doctors and medics for updates, and really, he's like a genius geneticist, would he actually be directly involved in administering any of your care? He doesn't like seeing other people give you shots or draw any blood because it hurts you so he insists on doing it. He creates a little nook in his office and on his brooding platform (almost typo'd that as breeding platform, but, I mean, it COULD be) so that he can keep his eyes on you once you've recovered enough to be let out of bed. Miguel just, finally getting an actual chair or bench and he's sitting watching all his monitors in the dark while you're in his lap and he's occasionally gently petting your hair. If he sees anything upsetting he just settles himself closer to your body and it brings him peace like no other and suddenly, yeah he just straight up is toxic codependent on you. He wants to protect and fawn and obsess over you and you're scared and vulnerable and start depending on him for protection again, like imagine if you're actually too scared to try running away because you just spent several months being catapulted between universes and you just need to rest, there's so much danger out there you didn't even comprehend before and, at least here with Miguel, it's safe for you, so, you accidentally kind of feed into all his problems

Could you even FUCKING IMAGINE if a THIRD YOU shows up and they might actually have distinguishing features from you that make it like impossible for you to be mixed up BUT STILL the second you see them you literally begin bawling your eyes out IMMEDIATELY and cling to Miguel, SHAKING, "please don't get rid of me please don't get rid of me please I don't have anywhere to go please please please" and like You3 could be the nicest person ever and not want to fuck up anything in any way and the whole ass Spider Society is just still like "nah fam you gotta go home, there's only room for one of you here" which is ironic coming from a a society where 70% of them are like the exact same person, like gee let me go fetch a coffee with Peter Parker and Peter B Parker and Peni Parker and Peter Porker and Peter Parkedcar like. You see what I mean?

Miguel and Reader sharing living quarters after your return and like, do you think he has a decent living space or do you think like nah he's living in a bachelor pad. He's actually the CEO of Alchemax in his universe so I assume he'd be like absolutely loaded, and he's in a futuristic cyberpunk dystopia so like, presumably he'd have a fully kitted-out penthouse apartment, and yeah while there IS room for you to have your own space and own bedroom, for sleeping, you're REQUIRED to be in the same room or bed as him. The entire place is bugged and wired and he has things meticulously organized so even if there were cameras he would know when you touch things or potentially snoop around. Oh, those papers on his desk were a few centimeters to the left before he went to the bathroom kinda attention to detail

And of course he eventually wants to take your relationship even further and finally be with and hold you, the real you, join his bodies with YOU and not some fake this time, and if it's not outright noncon, maybe you're so traumatized at this point you just decide "at least he thinks I'm me, at least someone still loves me enough like this, at least he's devoted to me even though he's totally crazy" and, you know, participating. He's murmuring all these praises and endearments and you're just so anxious and shy while his hands roam your body and he just totally worships you with lots of kisses and nuzzles and teasing little bites and you're holding onto him and are affectionate with him back, basically cuddling the entire time during sex, like man could have you folded into a mating press and you just, reach and intertwine your fingers and look up at him like 🥺 so insecure and scared because is he going to stop and leave if you mess up? What are you supposed to do? And he can sense your anxiety and gives you plenty of compliments and praise and encouragement while showering you with little smooches

You're lying there post-coitus and he's got his huge muscular arms caged around you as he tucks you into his chest, rubbing his hands over your back, telling you how amazing it was, how you did such a good job, and he basically fucks you the entire night until you can't take it anymore and are passing out in his bed while he's holding you, practically purring until both of you fall asleep as he idly wonders what your ring size is.

#yandere spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #yandere x reader #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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