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roosterforme · 2 months

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him.

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it.

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

--------------------------

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing.

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject.

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!"

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back.

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment.

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it.

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you.

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

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It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her.

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt.

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email.

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You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind.

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him.

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions.

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight.

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now.

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

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This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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wileys-russo · 3 months

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filling the void (4) II a.putellas x sister!reader

prequel one two three

filling the void (4) II a.putellas x sister!reader

you looked up from your coffee as the front door opened, your sister walking through and pulling her headphones down around her neck clearly having gone for a run.

"bon dia hermana." she greeted as you only nodded, sipping on your coffee and breathing a small sigh of relief when alexia headed toward her bedroom.

when she returned a few minutes later her headphones were gone and she'd taken off her runners, padding her way into the kitchen to make herself a coffee and start breakfast.

as you sat at the bench drifting away into your own world alexia was stuck in her head just as much as you were, between worries for eli and worries for you her mind was a mess, only worsening after your confession last night.

a confession which you were praying to every and all god that alexia wouldn't bring up, already incredibly embarrassed about your outburst at the hospital you didn't think you'd handle having to confront anything else head on right now.

olga could sense the tension in the room before she even entered, needing to head off to madrid for a few days for work she'd spent most of this morning worrying about what might happen while she was away but alexia had been firm that it was important she still go.

"hola pequeña." the older girl greeted you as you sent her a smile, alexia glancing over her shoulder in surprise when you didn't make any comment on the use of the nickname, though really she should figure she'd lost the right to battle you about that anyway with her behavior lately.

"amor you called jona sí?" olga murmered, alexia nodding and stealing a kiss when you weren't looking as if you were still a child, the captain having taken the next two days off from training to make sure she was around with everything going on.

"two days, more if i need them." alexia murmured, olga smiling appreciatively knowing how hard it was for her girlfriend to take time off, her work ethic just as dangerous as it was admirable at times.

both girls turned their heads as you awkwardly cleared your throat, alexia wordlessly raising an eyebrow as your fingers drummed anxiously against the ceramic walls of the coffee mug clenched tightly in hand, the beverage itself now long gone luke warm.

"can you take me home please? i have work at nine." you asked quietly, alexia hesitating for a moment as if unsure of a response. "you don't want to come to the hospital?" your sister asked carefully, olgas hand moving to rest on top of hers on the counter.

"i have to work." you answered again, a little firmer this time. "hermana if you call your boss and explain i am sure that-" alexia tried again as you shook your head. "i have to work. i have my routine and i need to be home to follow it, all my things are there. alexia can you please take me home?" you stood abruptly, jaw clenched as you smoothed out the clothes you'd been wearing for the last near twelve hours.

as alexia opened her mouth her girlfriend gently tapped a finger against her knuckles in a silent warning. "i can take you on my way to the gym nena." olga stepped in with a smile as you nodded, alexia watching you hurry away to the bedroom to grab your phone and house keys.

"why does she not want to-" alexia frowned as her girlfriend shook her head, cutting her off. "leave it ale. you need what you need, and fresa needs what fresa needs." olga warned softly, hand tracing the catalan's sharp jawline which tensed but none the less the blonde nodded.

"do you want-" "i'll cook something when i get back before my flight mi vida, go see your mami." olga kissed her cheek, alexia sending her a small smile and pecking her lips a few times in silent appreciation before you returned.

"ready to go?"

"-no there's still no update, she's still not really awake yet and she's still on the ventilator." alexia explained with a sigh, on her way back to the car and on the phone for what felt like the hundredth time today, having swallowed the bullet and starting to reach out to close family members to let them know what happened.

"tía i promise as soon as she is awake and less high risk i will call you right away, for now she is not allowed many visitors. alba and i only saw her for a few minutes today and we were waiting for hours." alexia fished her keys out of her pocket and hummed, the rapid spanish on the other end of the line the same thing she'd heard all day.

"sí fresa is okay, alba and i are looking after her." alexia spoke on autopilot despite the way the words felt like ashes in her mouth, an incoming call having her rapidly finish up the conversation, abruptly hanging up and clicking accept.

"hola hermana." alexia sighed tiredly, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder as she paid for her parking and rolled her eyes at the high price but tapping her card none the less.

"were you picking fresa up from work?" alba asked, a slight worry to her tone as alexia frowned, stopping in her tracks. "no. she said you were picking her up, olga dropped her off this morning." alexia answered, hurrying to her car.

"well thats what i thought too. but i am here, the clinic is closed and she is not here, nobody is." alba replied, having left the hospital a couple of hours ago. "mierda. maybe she took the bus? i can go past mami's house now to check if she is there." alexia decided, promising to keep alba in the loop as she hurried out of the parking garage.

alexia wasn't sure to be relieved or annoyed when she pulled into the driveway and noticed the house lights were on, the blurred shadows of a figure moving behind the drawn curtains could be just faintly seen.

knocking on the front door a few times alexia tapped her foot, frowning when the door only opened a slight crack and your head poked out. "what?" you asked, a little bluntly as your sister seemed taken aback.

"alba went to pick you up from work and you were not there, we were worried." alexia started as you rolled your eyes, still refusing to open the door properly. "i finish early on mondays." you answered.

"oh, i didn't know." your sister frowned as you scoffed slightly. "why would you alexia? i'm surprised you both even know where i work." the older girls cheeks flushed a little with warmth.

"hermanita-" 'don't, please." you cut her off before she could speak, not in the mood for the conversation you knew she'd want to start right now.

"pack a bag then, you can stay with me again tonight." your sister forced a smile as you gave her an odd look as if she'd grown a second head. "why?" though when all you received in response was a knowing look, your eyes rolled once more.

"alexia, go home. i am fine here by myself, i have work tomorrow again and i already told you i have a routine." you sighed trying to close the door, frustration growing as the blondes foot wedged in the way.

"then i will stay here, i still have some things in my room." the girl persisted as you shook your head. "you don't need to, and i don't want you to." you replied sharply, though you winced as something thudded behind you.

"oh but you are fine by yourself? who is here with you." alexia's demeanor switched as you kicked at her foot and attempted to shove the door closed but to no avail as your sister easily overpowered your attempts and pushed it open, nearly sending you to the floor as she marched in like a mad woman.

"who is that!?"

you scrambled to your feet and quickly snatched up the four year old who went running toward your sister, sitting her on your hip as alexia stared at you wide eyed and in shock.

"whose niña is this?" alexia stammered out as you sighed and closed the front door. "this is sofía." you introduced, alexia's face softening a little at the shy gap toothed smile the small girl gave her.

"sof this is alexia, she's mi hermana." you introduced back, alexia giving a small wave and melting even further at the way sofía tucked her head into your neck. "since when are you shy pequeña?" you teased, a giggle sounding as you poked at her stomach.

"okay sof, how about you go watch your show while i finish dinner and talk to alexia. if you need anything you come get me or just yell out, vale?" you placed her back down as she immediately hid behind your leg, peeking out at alexia who gave her another wave.

"vale." the four year old chirped, tugging on the hem of your shorts as you bent down to her level, something whispered in your ear making you laugh and tickle her again as she giggled and raced back off to the living room.

"she's one of my friends daughters, her baby sitters sick so i offered to watch her." you explained to your sister who nodded, a little dumbfounded as she followed you back to the kitchen.

"have you been here alone with her all day?" alexia asked with an air of concern as you stirred whatever you were cooking, which your sister wouldn't deny smelt leagues better than anything she made herself these days.

"no, just a couple hours. elena does night school monday through wednesday to get her doctorate, whenever her baby sitter isn't free i watch sofía. normally i'd go to her house but with everyone going on she thought it might be better if i had sof here." you spoke quietly, glancing over your shoulder every couple of minutes to check in on the tiny brunette giggling away at a brightly coloured kids show on screen.

"you look after her by yourself?" alexia asked, shock hardly disguised as you rolled your eyes moving the sauce off the heat and huffing.

"yes alexia, believe it or not i can keep another human being alive for a few hours. i've had enough practice looking after myself!" you snapped, pausing to close your eyes and take a breath.

"i don't want to argue in front of her. i told you i'm fine, you've seen i'm okay, go home alexia, your home." you sighed, turning your back to her again after you'd peeked at the living room over the top of her head.

"fresa i also don't want to argue." your sister started a lot softer as you began to dish up dinner. "you know i want to fix this, alba and i want to fix things." alexia promised as you stayed silent, though before either one of you could speak a new voice piped up.

"you're really tall. way taller than my mami!" alexia jumped a little in surprise as sofía now stood next to her looking up in wonder. "is dinner nearly done?" she shot now next to you, tugging again on the hem of your shorts as you looked down with a soft smile.

"nearly. you hungry?" you questioned as the four year old nodded enthusiastically. "so hungry!" she groaned dramatically sagging against your leg as alexia smiled, suddenly slammed back into the memory of when she and alba would look after you at that age and you too would never leave her alone when she was trying to cook.

one memory in particular sat heavily with the captain as she watched you teasingly shove sofía away and take a test mouthful of the food, groaning loudly and happily as the girl hit your leg and huffed opening her mouth wanting to try for herself.

it was another night where both her parents were working night shifts and a sixteen year old alexia had been left to look after her sisters, alba hidden away in her room taking another one of her teenage angst my life is awful i hate everyone naps she so adored at that age.

alexia had been at training all afternoon, currently playing at Levante, and received the news from the coach that she wouldn't be starting this weekend which now made three weeks in a row.

it had put a dampen on the girls mood significantly, feeling quite lost as to what else she could do to prove herself. she already stayed back, arrived early, trained at home, worked on her skills in every way possible she could but still, nothing seemed to be good enough.

it hadn't helped that with eli only recently picking up night shifts you were still adjusting to the change in your routine, used to your papi not being around after dinner but missing your mami, which lead to you being even more clingier than usual.

"fresa!" alexia huffed as she turned and nearly stepped on you as you hovered by her feet after being sent away a few minutes ago, hugging her leg and refusing to let go no matter what.

"fresa please let go." alexia asked as nicely as she could manage, temper rapidly becoming shorter and shorter as you refused to listen to a single word she said.

first it had been refusing to take a bath, hiding under alexia's bed right against the wall where she couldn't reach you and even going as far as to bite the tip of her finger as she finally grabbed a fistful of your shirt and pulled you out.

next it was trying to drown her in a tidal wave of soapy water when she finally got you into a bath, soaking the clothes she'd not long changed into after her own shower.

but still alexia managed to hold her tongue, speaking to you softly and encouragingly as eventually you sat down and allowed her to wash your hair.

but then you'd ran around half dressed and still wet for half an hour, finding endless amusement in the way your older sister just couldn't catch you, giggling and screaming with delight as alexia resisted the urge to kick you like a football when she finally scooped you up and forced you into the rest of your pyjamas, towel drying and braiding your hair so it was out of your face.

well braiding it as best she could as you'd squirmed and wriggled and kicked, whining that alexia didn't do it right and that it was too tight and then it was too loose and that only your mami knew how to do your hair right.

a full blown tantrum over your hair which took alexia a good half an hour to calm you down again had seemingly tired you out as your sister left you on the sofa with your favourite movie on.

alexia now an hour later than planned started on dinner, stress building as it rapidly neared your bed time and the brunette feared any more disruptions would only worsen your behaviour.

she'd gotten halfway done with dinner before you grew bored of your movie, alexia's attempts to wake up alba to help only resulting in a shoe flung at her head and a door slammed in her face as she resisted the urge to strangle the younger girl.

it seemed the cure to your boredom was to latch yourself firmly to your eldest sisters leg, curling around her like a monkey as no amount of shaking or begging had you letting go.

with all of that happening alexia had almost burned dinner, patience now a thin veil as she firmly yanked you off her leg and placed you down, shooing you away and promising dinner was almost done.

though of course you hadn't listened and immediately returned to hover under her feet now bringing a toy crane your papi had gifted you. and it was the small piece of plastic alexia had stepped on with barefeet, causing her to trip and a hand to shoot out to stop herself from falling.

that hand falling on the stove had meant another wave of pain rocked her body as she hissed and saw red, nearly tripping over you once again as you made noises with your mouth and sat on the floor between her legs refusing to move.

"why do you have to be such a pain! why can't you listen! i said to leave me be and you hover under my feet and trip me and do not go away! go away fresa!" alexia had lost it at this point, flying entirely of a dangerously unbalanced handle as she yelled.

but all of that anger drained from her body in a millisecond like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head as she watched your eyes well up with tears, crane clattering to the floor.

"no no no hey pequeña-" alexia cooed softly immediately dropping to her knees and reaching for you but you were gone, sprinting away as fast as your small legs could take you as alexia's heart broke and she stood, quickly pulling the pot off the stove and running after you.

she checked your room first in all the usual hiding places but came up with nothing, calling out for you and begging you to come out, apologizing over and over but even in her own room she couldn't find you, worries growing with each passing second.

alba's door now locked she knew that was out of contention, and her body flooded with relief as she stepped into her parents bedroom and caught sight of your leg in the mirror where you'd wedged yourself under their bed.

"fresita." alexia called out softly, her chest aching at the sniffles which could be heard from your hiding spot, the older girl sitting cross legged on the floor and begging you to come out with no luck.

you refused to say a word bar the tiny sniffles and hiccups that left you, sounds of pain which were much too large for a body as tiny as yours as alexia's own flooded with guilt for her outburst.

"hey fresa ven aquí. nena i am so so so sorry for yelling, i didn't mean it promesa. please come out, lo siento mucho hermanita please." alexia continued to beg, leaning down to peer at you under the bed as you caught her eye with another sniffle, rolling over so you were facing the wall and tucking into yourself even tighter.

with a sigh alexia ran a hand through her hair, jumping as a hand landed on her shoulder, surprised to see alba now stood behind her. she frowned a little as the younger girl sat beside her, pulling something from her pocket and placing it just under the bed.

"fresita." alba cooed, voice thick with sleep as you turned under the bed, spotting your favorite chocolate bar sat a few feet away.

as alba noticed your tiny hand reach out for it she placed a finger on top, pulling the treat a little further away as you frowned and wiggled closer, though again it was tugged just out of reach.

this game of cat and mouse continued for a while until the chocolate bar sat on the floor between your sisters and eventually your head peeked out from under the bed cautiously, both older girls smiling down at you.

you watched them for a moment as neither of them made any move to reach for you, aware one sudden movement could be all it took for you to reatreat again.

when they didn't move you slowly wiggled the rest of your body out, reaching for the chocolate and snatching it, both your sisters holding their breath but sighing quietly as you sat up and didn't seem inclined to return under the bed.

"i'll go finish dinner." alba murmured as you struggled to open the chocolate, alexia sending her a grateful smile as she disapeared out of the room.

"do you want me to open it pequeña?" alexia asked softly as you nodded, shuffling a littler closer as your sister took it from your outstretched palm and opened it, handing it back.

as you took a bite this time alexia reached for you, relieved when you put up no fight as she sat you in her lap, arms protectively wound around you and her face buried in your hair.

"tickles!" you huffed as alexia exhaled tiredly, wriggling around as your sister smiled and turned you in her lap, grabbing under your arms and standing you up so you were both eye to eye.

"fresa. i am very very very sorry for yelling and for if i scared you, i am not mad at you." alexia promised as you nodded and her thumb swiped at the tear tracks under your eyes with a pained smile.

"sorry i tripped you." you whispered out, looking down guiltily as alexia's finger tilted your chin back up so your eyes locked with hers once again.

"its okay hermanita, i know you did not mean to. you just miss mami, sí?" you nodded at that as alexia tugged you into a tight hug, peppering kisses along the crown of your forehead.

"i miss her too fresa, but we will get better at this, we will." alexia promised, cradling your head as you nodded into her chest. "but sometimes when mami is not here and i ask you to do something, i need you to do it, vale?" alexia murmered as you pulled your head back.

"vale. sorry ale." your bottom lip wobbled again as alexia was quick to catch the rogue tear with her finger, kissing your cheek repeatedly and carefully standing still with you held tightly in her arms.

"the kitchen can be dangerous sometimes fresa, especially sat on the floor or attached to my leg like a little monkey." alexia warned tickling at your stomach as you giggled and a wave of relief washed over her seeing you smile again.

"you're just my best friend ale and i don't know what to do without you." you mumbled tiredly with a yawn as your head slumped on her shoulder, fatigue clawing at you as it was now past your normal bed time as alexia melted and almost cried, exhaustion hitting her as well.

"oh mi precioso fresa you are my best friend too. forever and ever and ever nena, promesa."

"my mami stabs people! what do you do?" sofía was now stood back next to alexia, smiling up at her clearly no longer as shy as the older girl was flung into reality, blinking a few times as she adjusted and tuned back in.

"elena works with me at the clinic." you quickly clarified with a small amount of amusement seeing the mild horror flicker through the older girls eyes as she registered what sofía had said.

"i play football. do you like football?" your sister dropped down to the girls level, the two of them chattering away and before you could blink suddenly sofía was tugging her away to the living room with her.

you glanced over a few minutes later to see the two of them sat cross legged on the floor, alexia trying to teach sofía some sort of clapping game as you sighed and dished up a third bowl of the meal.

"dinner is done." you called out, ensuring the stove was fully off as within a blink there was an eager four year old climbing up into her chair as you chuckled and handed her a fork.

"you may as well stay, i know olga is the cook anyway." you gave your sister a small smile as alexia did her best not to let a grin overtake her face as she sat down across from the two of you and you slid her a fork.

"gracias fresa." alexia smiled as sofía paused mid mouthful to give you a curious look. "she calls you strawberry." the brunette pointed out as you nodded. "she does, thats my favourite fruit." you poked at her nose as she huffed and smacked your hand away.

"when she was your age all she wanted to eat was strawberries, for every single meal." alexia added on pulling a stupid face at the girl who giggled. "you can't do that silly!" sofía shook her head at you.

"can too, and strawberry milk." you grabbed a napkin and sofía's chin in your hand, wiping the copious amount of food which missed her mouth away as she whined and tried to push you off.

again alexia was hit with a wave of nostalgia, vivid memories of when she sat in your chair and you sat in sofia's, the smile fading from her face as her stomach churned with guilt, somewhat grateful for the small four year olds constant chatter meaning neither you or alexia really had to interact much.

"alexia do you have a football? can we play?" sofía grabbed your sisters hand once she was done helping you clear the table, hitting the catalan with the best puppy dog eyes she could muster not unlike you did all those years ago when you were determined to get your own way.

you caught her eye and the slight raise of her eyebrow, pausing for a moment before sending the blonde a curt nod. "i'll wash up." you declared, dismissing her attempts to offer help as sofía pulled impatiently on your sisters hand.

"sí, i have lots of footballs nena. ven conmigo and you can choose one!"

you'd been keeping a close eye on the pair as they raced and chased one another around the backyard, the summer evening sun starting to fade fast as you dried and put away the last plate.

you'd like if you said it hadn't shocked you a little to see your at times quite awkward sister be so open and care free with sofía, you having caught her earlier chase the small girl around the backyard pretending to be a football eating monster.

you'd be lying to yourself if similarly to alexia watching their interactions didn't bring up any thoughts or feelings toward your own childhood but in no state of mind to unpack that just yet you squashed it deep deep down and refused to acknowledge it.

you were stood on the back steps just about to call the two of them in now the sun was near fully set when it happened.

all it took was a misplaced step and suddenly sofía was falling head over heels, skinning her knee on the brick retaining wall of the small vegetable patch in the corner.

alexia's sisterly instincts kicked in as she raced across to comfort the now crying girl but you beat her to it, quickly lifting sofía up and into your arms as you bounced her up and down.

"hey hey hey nena its okay! you're okay. just a little fall sof, you're okay." you repeated over and over, your sister watching on a little dumbfounded as you hurried inside, alexia grabbing the football and following.

"hey you're a big girl right? big girls get skinned knees! its all a part of growing up sof." you sat her down on the kitchen counter as her cries turned to hiccups and she nodded.

"its okay to cry though nena, its good to cry sometimes! never let anyone tell you you're not allowed to. sometimes tears can be happy as well!" you kept the girl engaged as you cleaned her knee, poking at her stomach and making jokes, her giggling distracting her from the alcohol swab wiping away at the small graze.

"now, i need someone really really special to help me make a very important decision. anyone?" you asked, holding something behind your back and making a silly face, sofía nodding eagerly as her hand shot into the air.

"anyone? does anyone want to help?" you pretended not to notice, looking around as the four year old huffed and alexia smiled softly hovering nearby watching the interaction. "me! me me me!" sofía chanted impatiently as you sighed.

"i guess nobody wants to help!" you threw your hands up and turned to go as a small hand grabbed a fistful of your t-shirt and tugged. "oh! do you want to help me sof? why didn't you tell me!" you teased, jabbing playfully at her sides as she squealed and kicked at you.

"i will help." the girl nodded as you did the same. "okay. mickey mouse, or goofy?" you held up two different plasters as sofía's face lit up and she instantly pointed to the goofy one.

asking her to sit still for a moment you carefully applied the plaster over the small graze, kissing the top of her knee and standing up straight away. "all fixed! i think we do not need to cut this off...yet." you grabbed her foot and inspected her leg with a frown.

"hey!" the brunette gasped as you pulled a shocked face and ruffled her hair, picking her back up again. "bath and bed." you pinched her nose as she groaned but made no move to fight, going limp in your arms as you smiled and kissed her cheek.

"i'm just gonna..." you jolted a little admittedly having forgotten alexia was still here as you noticed her, your sister nodding in understanding.

"don't go yet! i wanna say goodnight." sofía yelled to alexia over your shoulder as the girl promised she wouldn't and took a seat on the sofa, exhaling as she did so, head swamped with a tidal wave of memories, only worsened as she stared around at her childhood home.

alexia hadn't realised how long she'd been trapped in her own mind but what felt like mere seconds later a body was latched to her leg and you were waiting in the hallway, arms crossed and a large wet patch on your shirt where the four year old had gotten a little too enthusiastic with the plastic duck she always had with her.

"buenas noches alexia. it was fun playing with you!" sofía smiled a little more tiredly now, climbing onto the sofa and hugging the older girl tightly who perhaps clung on a second or so too long, flashes of when it was you hugging her goodnight still lingering at the back of her mind.

"it was very nice to meet you nena, remember drive through!" your sister pretended to kick a ball as sofía giggled and copied the action before waving and racing back to your side as the two of you disappeared again.

when you returned around fifteen minutes later now changed into dry clothes and the four year old sleeping peacefully in your bed it wasn't a surprise to see alexia curled up on the corner of the lounge watching something.

you didn't say anything at first as you settled at the opposite end, a somewhat uncomfortable unspoken tension filling the gap between the two of you.

"i assume you are staying the night then." you spoke up first, knowing alexia well enough that when she had her mind set on something it was near impossible to change it.

"sí." your sister confirmed as you gave a small nod. "you are very good with her." the blonde commented next, throwing you a small look as your own eyes stayed fixated on the tv.

"as kids go she's pretty easy." you gave a shrug, tucking your knees up to your chest. "everything you do with her, i used to do with you." and there it was.

"alexia-" you started with a small sigh. "no, fresa i know. we don't need to speak about it, i just wanted to say it. she reminds me a lot of you is all, and i miss it sometimes." alexia admitted, nervous that with one wrong word it might send you recoiling into yourself and off to your room, worsening things.

a beat of silence paused and alexia took that as a silent cue you were done, turning her head back toward the tv.

"sometimes i miss it too."

you'd spoken so quietly you weren't even sure if your sister had heard you, grateful that if she did she chose not to comment on it, the two of you sitting in silence that albeit awkward was a little less tense watching television.

alexia looked up from where she was getting some water in the kitchen at a soft knock at the door, watching you hurry over to pull it open, an unfamiliar girl just visible through the window as alexia leaned against the counter.

no words were exchanged as you lead the girl inside and the two of you returned a moment later, sofia back in her mothers arms as the girl who didn't look much older than twenty two or three loaded her into a carseat.

when she returned to speak with you alexia hadn't meant to eavesdrop and overhear, she really hadn't.

"thank you so so much for this chica, she adores you and i appreciate you." elena sighed pulling you into a hug as you assured it was no problem and you were always happy to help out if needed.

"please don't give me that look." you sighed after you told her you'd see her at work tomorrow. "mateo said you could have the whole week off and with pay! why are you working?" elena told you off firmly but not unkindly.

"i like working." you justified with a shrug, the older girl not buying it as she raised an eyebrow and you deflated a little. "i can't see her like that el, i can't." you whispered out, voice on the cusp of cracking as alexia's eyebrows furrowed from where she stood within earshot.

"she's your mami amiga she would want you there with your sisters, supporting each other through this. not stabbing grumpy old men with low iron!" elena teased with a soft smile as you barely cracked one of your own.

"your sisters are trying, sí? let them try, i am sure that they love you very much." elena promised as alexia was taken aback at her words, the jealousy which had been simmering at the surface of the comfort this stranger was providing you instead of her, easing a little.

"i know. but i can't see her like that, i can't." you repeated with a shake of your head. "why?" elena asked softly, a hand sat on your shoulder with a gentle squeeze as you shook your head.

"you can talk to me about anything chica, you know this. we all love you and are here for anything you need!" your friend encouraged gently, alexia's grip on her glass tightening as she heard the unmistakable sound of you choking back a slight sob before the next words you whispered shattered her heart completely.

"because the last time someone i loved when into hospital, he never came back."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

five

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #🍓☀️

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reiding-writing · 6 months

Note

Idk if u ever write this or not but... i've been thinking abt this lately....... spencer and reader debating about "kissing is a lot more hygienic than shaking hands" and they just suddenly kiss afterwards AHHHH I DONT KNOW IF YOU GET MY POINT but thats that

acceptable greetings [ s.r ]

Summary:

Spencer is an avid believer that kissing is a better greeting than shaking hands. You’re not convinced at his notion of it being ‘completely acceptable’, and in attempting to prove him wrong, you end up proving something else.

WARNINGS: n/a

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: 100% fluff

wc: 1.5k

masterlist!!

a/n: here is my immediate apology for the sheer amount of angst in my last fic i love you guys please don’t hate me 🫶

“Kissing is so much more hygienic than shaking hands,”

Spencer’s expression matched his statement, confident in his assessment and unwilling to back down on his stance of not wanting to shake hands with other people.

“It’s unhygienic,” He would say, “There are hundreds of undiscovered bacterial colonies that live on people’s hands,”

“That doesn’t change the fact that kissing somebody is not an acceptable greeting Spencer,” You arbitrarily turn your swivel chair back and forth with your foot as a pivot, rolling your eyes as you lean your head over the back of your chair.

You’d been talking about this topic for almost half an hour, your file assessment of your most recent case forgotten on your desk as you debate with Spencer as he sat directly opposite you.

“Several European countries use kissing as a customary greeting,” Of course he had a rebuttal to your comment. “It actually dates back to the Romans, who, as my original statement supports, used it as a way to stop diseases from spreading between people during social greetings,”

His face told you that he was singing his own glory in his head, victory written in the small wrinkle in his eyebrow and the quirk of his smile.

If he wasn’t so cute when he looked at you like that you’re sure you would’ve found something else to say. Something to continue this debate of yours and satisfy the competitiveness riddling your brain.

But instead you opt to let him revel in his ‘victory’, rolling your eyes as a soft “Whatever,” rolls off your tongue.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You were going to prove your point.

You might think Spencer is perfectly sweet and innocent in his ways, but that didn’t stop that tiny voice in the back of your head that told you that you could win that debate you were having the day before.

You entered the bullpen with an agenda. You walked out of the elevator with your head held high and your eyes fixed on the fluffy brown mess decorating the back of Spencer’s head.

You clear your throat when you meet him, and he turns around with that perfectly innocent expression on his face, echoing a soft “Good morning,” at you that only amplifies his perfectness and makes you want to prove him wrong even more.

You don’t consult him before you lean in to press your lips to his face.

It’s a short, chaste kiss that’s pressed to the apple of his cheek.

It lasts less than a second.

And yet Spencer’s face immediately flushes a bright red that would make anyone passing by think that you’d suggested the two of you strip naked in the middle of the office.

“I- What was that for?-” His voice wavers like he was catching his breath from running up a flight of stairs, blinking rapidly at you like clearing his vision was going to provide him with the answer to his question.

“Not such an acceptable greeting after all hm?”

It takes him a second to realise what you’re talking about, but your smug expression and the way you cross your arms over your chest sends him back to the conversation he was having with you yesterday and his face turns from confusion to begrudging acknowledgment.

“It is a perfectly acceptable greeting when both parties are aware it is going to happen,” He sighs along with his response, mirroring you as he crosses his arms to try and resemble having some sort of composure.

He intentionally left out the part where even if he knew you were going to kiss him he would still flush red like a traffic light.

That his palms would still sweat and his vest would suddenly become uncomfortably hot on his torso.

But that was because you were- well, you.

So his point still stood.

“God you really do have an answer to everything don’t you?” The slight tilt of your head and the still very apparent smile on your face told him that despite your words you weren’t angry or annoyed at his response.

You more looked like you’d been presented with a freshly scrambled rubix cube to solve and add to the collection on your desk.

And that look on your face only proved to crack his composure even more.

“Well- I have done extensive research on the subject, so I therefore have had chance to form a fully educated opinion of the matter,”

True to form, his explanation was smart, logical, mixed in with that adorable awkwardness as he continued to reel from his earlier flustering.

Your chuckles grace his ears with no objection, and he soon find himself smiling softly alongside you as your attitude rubs off on him.

“You’re so cute,”

But when you call him cute, Spencer Reid finally, fully cracks because that is the sweetest goddamn thing he’s ever heard in his life.

Spencer’s smile reaches his eyes, the flush on his cheeks returning with a vengeance at your words and causing him to feel hot once more despite the AC blowing at a comfortable cool temperature.

You hold up a finger in front of you that his eyes follow with a confused knit in his eyebrow, and then you’re jogging back towards the elevator with his confusion only growing at every step you make.

His eyebrows continue to furrow as you walk back towards him again with that determined look that paints your face whenever you’re knee-deep in a profile, and he raises and eyebrow as you come to a stop in front of him once more.

“Good morning Spencer, i’m going to kiss you as a greeting now,”

Spencer’s face relaxes at your words as he understands what you’re doing. That you’re trying to prove his previous statement untrue by declaring your intentions beforehand and still having the interaction be unsuitable as a greeting.

He thinks he knows what you have planned, and he prepares himself for your lips to press against his cheek, to suppress the kaleidoscope of butterflies that would inevitably stir in his stomach at your contact so that he could hold his ground.

He thinks he knows what’s coming.

But oh is he wrong.

Your lips miss the apple of his cheek by a large margin, landing square on his mouth and causing his eyes to fly wide open at the new sensation.

If your lips weren’t pressed to his he’s sure his jaw would’ve fallen slack.

And that’s exactly what happens when you pull away from him a few seconds later, a delicate flush on your cheeks that contrasts the bright red covering his face like a warning sign of his shattered composure.

You stifle a small chuckle at his expression with your hand, tilting your head in a exaggeratedly innocent way. “What’s wrong Spencer? I thought kissing was an acceptable greeting when ‘both parties are aware it’s going to happen’,”

You reiterate his own words back to him, mimicking his tone in your explanation as you watch him blink at you with a blankly flabbergasted expression, completely shut down in every sense of the word.

An IQ of 187 slashed down to 60 as Emily would say.

His astoundment lasts for a whole 20 seconds before he brings himself back to reality through a series of rapid blinks, doing nothing more than leaning it to finish the space between you once more.

It’s times like this where Spencer is glad that the two of you were both chronically early to work.

That he wouldn’t have to deal with the ramifications of his actions through his coworkers.

That he didn’t have to endure Morgan’s teasing as he stood there with his hands holding either side of your face and his lips pressed against yours with a gentle but insistent pressure.

You were more than happy to accept his advances, internally singing your own praises at finally finding an excuse to kiss those perfect pink lips of his, and have him return it no less.

He breaks the moment after a few seconds, his hands still securely cupping your face towards him as he stumbles out a half-assed explanation for his actions.

“It’s- It’s polite to return somebody’s greeting with one of your own-”

You nod with a suppressed smile against the hold of his hands.

Maybe kissing your coworkers was an acceptable greeting after all.

Or, at least for the coworker you’d been pining after.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #asks 🫶

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teabutmakeitazure · 11 months

Text

Dissimulation

>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (Modern au)

>Word Count: 11.6k words (slow burn)

>a/n: my offering for best boy's birthday

Warnings: coercion, Childe doesn’t know how to flirt, blood is finger licking good, panic attack

An unwelcome customer turned into an unwelcome acquaintance has been terrorising your life starting from your minimum wage job. Perhaps your flight back home is your only way out.

Continuation | reasons why Childe is #1 husband | Continued Again

Patience is a sign of virtue. Or at least that’s what your mother taught you when you were growing up. No, it’s all just some elaborate scheme for the notorious members of society to make others more docile and submissive to them.

Regardless, you don’t say anything, tired already as it is and just wait for the month to be over so that you can get your pay and go back home.

Even if he seems to like you, you would rather not push your luck. Despite only being in this city as a student, you’ve picked up that it’s best not to engage with the local mafia members, even if they seem friendly. Just keep your head down and return the greeting if given one. If one of them comes to your shop, treat them as a regular patron, and if a fight breaks out somewhere with one of them, do not take sides. Simply leave as quietly as you can.

Unfortunately, you have no such choice or opportunity to keep contact to a minimum. That is why you opted to bide your time and sneak out as quickly as you can and never opt for minimum wage jobs again. Maybe you could get a paid internship next time. You’ll probably meet the course requirements.

The dreaded convenience store you are currently walking to is situated a ten minute walk away from your campus dorms. Having to stay there and beep items all day was its own form of punishment as it was, but with the crowd that had recently started to come in these last few months, it started to seem more like a form of purgatory.

You still remember the lecture your friend had given you on how to act normal around the mafia community. The fact that they recently got active in this neighbourhood is simply an added bonus. Honestly, you’ve been counting the days when your incarceration will end with your flight. You just want to go home and hug your cats first, family members second.

The bell chimes as you walk inside, and you sigh when you see the mess of ginger hair and a dangling red earring already waiting for you. At least this time his back is turned while he scrolls his phone even if he is sitting near the register.

About that, where’s the manager? He should be at the register right now since your shift just started.

“You’re late,” the dreaded man scrolling his phone points out, eyes not leaving the phone screen.

Keeping your friend’s advice in mind, you decide to reply before twisting the knob to the employee room. “Sorry. I was doing laundry.” A lie but you aren’t going to tell him that you got distracted watching cat videos.

No greetings were exchanged and he didn’t even look up at you. Strange, but it’s best to only reply when talked to. Getting too friendly might backfire.

Still, you decide to say something just for good measure.

“Is the manager in today?” you ask, eyes on him while your hand remains on the knob.

All you receive in response is a shrug.

Thus, you enter the employee room, and there you have it! Mister manager sits on the desk in all his white polo shirt glory.

The door hinges squeak loudly behind you when you close the door. Stepping to the desk, his head slowly rises to look at you when you greet him, but he doesn’t respond. After you’ve slipped on the employee uniform jacket and pinned your nametag, he speaks.

“I may have made a mistake.”

That causes you to frown. “What happened?”

“The guy outside… I… I didn’t realise he’s a high ranking member. I may have asked him to leave because he’s been here for half an hour already and… well…”

“Well, what?”

He shakes his head. “Well, he sort of jokingly said that the building belongs to his division and that the store could close if he wanted it to.”

“...”

“Look. I know you’re a student, so I promise I’ll pay you somehow, but please! He listens to you, right? Try to appease him!”

You groan. “I’m sure he meant it as a joke.”

“Please!”

“Alright alright. I’ll… try.”

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re going to do. He’s a higher ranking member, you know that much, but why he even bothers to be so friendly and chatty with you is out of your scope of understanding. At least now those tough looking ones that drop by in the evening don’t test your patience anymore.

Cautiously, you open the employees room door and head back outside. There’s still no one in the store, but you know that afternoon rush hour is about to start. With you on the register seat, the dreaded man who will stay with you on another shift turns his body to face you, phone immediately slipping into his pocket.

“So,” he drawls, “was the manager inside?”

You put your phone on the little shelf underneath the cash drawer. “Yes. He was inside.”

“Was he mad?”

“Um no.” You look at him questioningly, brow raising when he just smiles. “Should he be?”

“Who knows?”

“Right…”

Silence ensues and you briefly ask yourself why he’s less chatty today. You can’t believe that it’s concerning you. Sure, he’s a very dangerous person if he’s so young and in the mafia of all things, but dangerous people are downright terrifying if pissed. At least you’re not the one at fault. Besides, three more weeks and it will be time for your flight.

You just hope you make it.

“Something on your mind?”

He’s looking at you now, cheek resting in his palm. He’s even gotten closer, next to you to be precise. You don’t think you heard him get closer.

Nervously, you give a little laugh. “It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Dull blue eyes bore into yours, gently forcing you to answer truthfully. The lack of vitality in them unnerves you but that is precisely what compels you to answer.

“Well… the manager said that you might get the store to close…”

“That? I didn’t think he’d tell you. Anyway, I was messing around,” he smiles. “You’re a student, so it would be unfair to you to suffer in consequence to him.”

The statement doesn’t make you feel any better. “Ah, you’re too kind sir Tartaglia.”

Like before, the way you addressed him makes him frown. “Just call me Childe. Tartaglia is only for my men. Though… if you would prefer…” he leans in, hand that was previously holding his face now gripping the edge of the table as he whispers dangerously close to your ear, “I’d gladly tell you my birth name.”

He backed away again, a smile on his face. “And I know you wouldn’t tell anyone haha.”

How do you even reply to that?

Scratch that, should you even reply to that?

He’s looking at you again, that smile that doesn’t reach his eyes gracing his lips and impatience oozing from his face. You sense that he’s waiting for an answer so you try your best to comply.

“Understood... Childe.”

The name feels foreign on your tongue, and you blame the unfamiliarity on the nervousness that comes with being near him. Thankfully your answer seemed to appease him and he happily nodded.

Okay, one problem solved. You’ll get your minimum wage salary. Another problem. You’ll have to endure the awkwardness because you don’t have it in you to call him out.

As if on cue, your employer exits the employee room and heads for the exit without even looking at you. The fast walking didn’t make his exit any graceful, but it did make it seem important with how Childe eyed his movements.

Silence settles again as you blankly stare at the empty store in front of you. Regrettably, you’re a little worried about what might happen when you’ll be back after summer vacation. You never told him that you’re leaving for home and the white polo dunce of a manager has been sworn to secrecy about it after he flat out told Childe which institution you study at right in front of you.

Protecting your personal details is your job, so you’ve taken it into your own hands. It isn’t wise to tell a mafia member who obviously pines to be more than just acquaintances about your personal life and details. Thus, you will slip away to home on a weekend flight.

What happens after you’re back is something you didn’t consider.

Well, almost two months would have passed by then. Surely he wouldn’t care anymore… right?

You hope he doesn’t. Perhaps it would be best to avoid this neighbourhood. Maybe even look into school transfers to be safe.

“Something’s on your mind again.”

His voice cuts through the air like a dart and lodges into your head. Is it so wrong to simply want some peace? No wait. Peace is bad. If he's quiet then that’s bad. You’ll have to humour him.

Thus, you take a deep breath. Act normal, you tell yourself. You aren’t the criminal here. You’re a humble student trying to earn some money. Relax.

“Well,” you drawl, “I’m just spacing out.”

You don’t even look at him, eyes still fixed on the empty store.

“You must be thinking about something.”

Grumbling, you internally curse your luck. Patience is running out and you don’t know how long you can remain civil with him breathing down your neck like this. Maybe he had a bad day and that’s why he’s more inquisitive than chatty.

“Nothing,” you sigh. “I’m not thinking about anything. Just waiting for rush hour to start so that my shift can go by quickly and I can go home and sleep.”

“Hm.” He’s closer now, and you can see him in the corner of your eye. “So you’re tired of this job?”

“Tired of the people that come here actually. Most of them are so shady it’s unreal.” Now that that’s said, you hope he doesn’t realise that the jab is actually at him.

“I realise that. I saw what kind of crooks used to come here. They mostly thought they could intimidate the people working here, but all that’s in the past now.”

Well, you do owe him the credit of straightening them out. If it wasn’t for Childe, you’d still have to endure taunts from those weirdos about how they can take anything from the store and you can’t do anything about it. Regardless, you can’t be certain whether his presence is actually good or bad.

“Anyway,” he’s behind you now, hands suddenly on your shoulders, “you’re not from here, right? Any plans to visit home for the summer?”

Well… shit.

How do you go about this…

You never told him that you’re not from this city, so that can only mean that white shirt dunce did. Great.

“I’m not sure,” you reply. Would it be wise to ask him how much he knows? Childe does seem to be friendly in all the weeks you’ve known him. Ah. You’ll take that chance. Slowly turning around in your chair, his hands remove themselves from your shoulders when you face him. “Did my manager tell you anything?”

Now you’re looking into his eyes, but he doesn’t seem affected at all.

“I asked him about it. He told me that you might go home for the summer if you can afford the ticket.”

Okay so maybe the manager saved you a little there, but you still need to answer him. So, you settle with going with what he said.

Nodding, you look at Childe standing in front of you again. “I'm planning to decide by the end of this month. If I do go home, I'll put in a one week notice. Hopefully it isn't a problem."

He smiles. "Don't worry. It won't be."

You can't tell if he's comforting you or making notes to assist you. Either way, he doesn't know about your flight. Figuring out how to get him off your back when you come back for the next semester will be for when you're home.

"Anyway," Childe says, breaking the silence, "are you doing anything after your shift?"

Where did that come from?

Tilting your head a little, you act innocent in hopes he gets the hint. "Depends on what I'm asked. I do have some pending work. Why? Do you need me for something?"

"No. Just asking. What about tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure about tomorrow yet…"

Childe chuckles. "Then how about you make a reservation for the evening, with me?"

"W-why?"

"I just wanted to take you out for dinner. Is that alright?"

Did… did you just get asked out on a date?

Seeing your confusion, Childe chuckles again. “I promise I’m not going to kidnap you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll just take you out, treat you to dinner, and drop you home. No shady stuff.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, tongue teasingly peeking out.

You suppose there’s no way out of this, but still try nonetheless. “What if something important comes up? Would it be okay to… cancel…?”

His hands go back to his hips. “Important? What could be more important?”

“Um, my summer courses? I still get assignments for those…” You hope that doesn’t offend him, but judging from his face he looks more confused than angry.

Childe clicks his tongue, a scolding look on his face. “You can’t get an assignment with a same day submission date, so that’s out of the question. But hearing your response, it’s alright if you’d rather not go.” He sits back down, arms crossed. “I would prefer it if you'd be honest with me. Prevaricating with lies is more than just annoying, you know.”

In the silence of the store, you can feel your heart beating loudly in your ears, the thump a scolding sound for your stupidity. If he’s angry with you, who knows what could happen. “No! Not at all. That’s not what I meant.” Your patience is still being tested but at this very moment you’re more fearful. “I’m just worried because those courses are counted in my cumulative GPA, and I can’t afford to let it drop!”

“So you’re only worried about your grades?”

“Yes!”

“And you’re not opposed to getting dinner with me?”

“Yes! Wait…”

He smiles. “Go on~”

You narrow your eyes at him, fear all gone and annoyance taking its place. “I sense I’ve made a mistake here.”

The teasing smile turns into an encouraging one and with a sigh, you surrender. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

He gives a little celebratory ‘yes’ but you cut him short. “But I need to be back home by ten max.”

“Wait… your shift ends at seven…”

You cross your arms, finally getting back at him. “And what about it?” Seriously. Was he planning to hog your entire evening?

“That’s way too short!”

“I have a curfew placed on me by my mother back home. If I phone her any later than ten pm local time, she loses it. I would rather not be screamed at.”

“Alright. That’s fair.”

Now that that’s done, you still can’t believe you just agreed to a date with him.

However, Childe looks more than just ecstatic. He’s practically jumping in his seat, leg bouncing up and down and a wide smile on his face. When you raise a brow at that, he just smiles at you, practically oozing happiness.

He stays the same way, quiet and happy and fidgety as customers start to come in. As usual, he doesn’t say anything while you’re ringing them up and just stares. It’s when the rush dies down a little and only one guy is in the store that he speaks.

“Don’t you ever get tired of working so hard?”

You look at him from the corner of your eye. With his face in his palm, he’s staring directly at you. “I’m beeping items with a barcode scanner. I don’t see why it’s hard.”

“It is actually,” Childe says, firm in his statement. “I think you’re just used to the extra work so you don’t find it bothersome.”

“Maybe,” you shrug.

“Hm. You deserve better. Perhaps… someone who would take care of you, no questions asked. Someone… who would treat you as you deserve, cherish you, and make you happy.”

The way he speaks makes you uncomfortable, but you don’t let it show. Patience, you remind yourself. A few more weeks and you’ll be gone.

“There’s no need for others to look at you like this.” He sighs, “I hope that changes soon.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, so you’re grateful the guy who was browsing the drinks for the last five minutes finally came to the counter. You busy yourself with billing him, but Childe just… stares. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you for a second.

Now, the regret of agreeing to dinner seeps in.

The customer leaves, and as soon as the door closes, you hear a phone buzzing. Before you even look at your phone, Childe has already pulled his out of his pocket and answers. He doesn’t give a response to whatever was said on the other side, brows furrowing as he cuts the call.

The chairlegs drag against the floor when he stands. “Sorry but I have to go.”

You don’t dare question the oddity despite your surprise to him leaving before your shift ends. “Alright.”

“I’ll pick you up outside your dorm. Is that okay?”

“Okay but what time-”

“I have your number. I’ll text you, don’t worry.”

With that, he’s out, leaving you confused inside the store. Considering the lack of smile and the fact that this is the first time he left before seven pm, it must have been something work related.

You just hope nothing advances after the dinner tomorrow.

He really does have your number. You don’t remember ever giving it to him, so you don’t dare question how he got his hands on it. At exactly 8: 06 pm he texted you that he would pick you up at 7: 30 pm outside your dorm tomorrow. That means that you would have around ten minutes to get ready.

Ten minutes are too much. You’re only going to change, maybe put on some lip gloss if you look too dead. No makeup and no accessories that could possibly make you look more attractive. Simple and plain is the goal.

Speaking of dinner, you’re going to have dinner with a mafioso. Perhaps you really should look into school transfers during the summer.

This sort of vicissitude was not welcome in the slightest, but you’ll have to work around it. If nothing else, you’re thankful that Childe is respectful of most basic boundaries and hasn’t attempted anything yet. Maybe if he wasn’t working where he was, you would’ve given him the time of day.

At 8: 19 pm, he texts you again. ‘Make sure to dress well :) I’d like to see you in a dress if you have any.’

Dress? Does he mean a fancy one? You send back a message asking for clarification, but he only replies with, ‘Anything casual and cute would work.’

Casual and cute… is he really bluntly asking you that?

7: 17 pm. You kick off your shoes and head inside, dashing straight to the bathroom to wash your face. You’re less tired than usual because of Childe’s absence at the store today, something that made the manager anxious, but you didn’t dare tell him about the date.

7: 23 pm. You change into the baby blue Gingham maxi dress you bought a week before finals. It flows just fine, and you grace the look only with pearl studs. Wallet and phone are shoved into the pockets of the dress, and to not look soulless, you apply some lip gloss. The gloss is also stuffed into your pocket in case you want to reapply it later, which you would rather not but you never know.

7: 28 pm. You set your hair again and slip on your sandals. One last look in the mirror and you give yourself a thumbs up. The look is something you would wear to a casual hangout with friends. Doesn’t look very try-hard or date-like. Perfect.

7: 30 pm. You open the door and head out. Pushing the elevator button, you check your phone for any messages while the elevator reaches your floor. Sudden nervousness makes you a little nauseous, but you breathe in slowly, telling yourself it’s no big deal.

The elevator door opens and as you step in, you collide with a very firm body. One look to the face of this body, and you’re frozen.

“Going somewhere?”

You nervously chuckle. “Childe. What’re you doing here?”

He ushers you both inside the elevator, pushing the ground floor button. “I’m here to pick you up? Did you forget about dinner?”

“Ah, no… it’s just… they don’t allow outsiders without a resident escorting them. I was going to wait in the lobby.”

“Really? The watchman let me in pretty easily.”

You don’t even want to know what that means.

“Anyway,” Childe says, voice louder than the gentle elevator music, “you look lovely.”

You glance at his maroon button down and roman silver dress pants, eyes resting on his earring. “Thanks. You look… fine as well.”

“Fine? I only look fine?” He’s leaning towards you now, and the elevator suddenly feels too small. Before you can be pressured into a reply, the doors open and you hastily step out into the lobby.

A chuckle comes from behind you, and soon you’re following him outside to a black car parked a little farther from the dorm entrance. With every step you take, you pray that no one left in your building for the summer catches you.

The car is unlocked with a beep, and though you’re a borderline broke student with no knowledge of expensive things because you can’t afford them so why bother, you can tell that the car is expensive. Or maybe it’s just polished to perfection, but it looks expensive.

Regardless, this is the hard part. Do you sit in the front seat or the back seat? The back seat would be rude but the front seat would be too straightforward. The front seat is too intimate and close but the back seat is too alienating. Shit. What do you do?

You leave your choice to luck and close your eyes, reaching for a door handle. Whichever you grab will be where you sit. Upon grabbing one, you open the door just to hear another one open as well. You open your eyes and a car speeds by at the same time.

Childe stands next to the open front seat door, a brow raised as he looks at you incredulously. You look at him, then to the door you just opened, then to him again. The door you opened is graced with your gaze once again before it’s Childe’s turn.

It’s silent, awkward, and you can’t shake the feeling that you messed up before the date even started.

“Would you… prefer the back seat?”

You blink at him, courage all gone when you reply. “Ah, no! It’s not that. I-I just wasn’t thinking. Sorry…”

Childe’s brow is still raised. “Okay. I’m not your driver. I’m your date. So, I’d like it if you sat in the front.”

Shit. Everything has gone to shit. You agreed to the dinner just to appease him and leave things on a good note instead of a sour one, yet you’ve already made things bad. Great job, [Name]. Aren’t you just wonderful?

Awkwardly, you close the door you opened and get in, allowing Childe to shut the door next to you before slipping into the driver’s seat. He starts the car, puts on his seatbelt, cracks his fingers, and folds his sleeves to the elbow before exiting the parking and going onto the road.

Your seatbelt feels uncomfortable in the heavy silence. Thoughts of what Childe might do if displeased swirl inside your mind but you frankly don’t know what. He seems to like you. He has never mistreated you besides being creepy a few times. Perhaps he’d forgive you. He always says your airheadedness is cute.

The pounding heart inside your chest gets more aggressive when Childe clears his throat, lips parting to give you another mini heart attack. “Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a secret.”

The pounding heart quiets down a little, confusion kicking away some of the anxiety. “Then it’s good I didn’t ask out of my own accord.”

A secret? What does he mean by that? Scratch that, is the location being a secret a good thing or a bad thing? Should you text your live location to someone? But all your friends are gone for the summer. That one girl you’re acquainted with on one of the upper floors might help if you disappear. At the very least, your jokes in the conversations you’ve had might at least let her sympathise enough to report your status to the police.

“Are you scared?”

Childe’s question makes you look at him, your heart going back to pounding crazily upon seeing his smile. “S-should I be?”

“No. You should never be scared when you’re with me.” His eyes are still on the road. “I realise you have a negative impression of me, but there’s no reason for you to be scared. Well, not you but others should be, but that’s besides the point.”

“Ah. I see.” No. You don’t see, but just go along.

“Mhm. That dress looks amazing on you.”

He takes a right turn at the green traffic light, and you briefly glance at his flexing arms as the steering wheel turns. “Thanks,” you reply. “The dress has pockets.”

As a demonstration, you pull out your phone and show it to him. Childe chuckles at that, calling it cute and you find your heartbeat growing tamer. The phone is shoved back inside and pleasant conversation fills the car on the way.

Childe asks about how university is, how your finals went, and how you’ve come to find the city. You answer the last question truthfully, hands fidgeting as you tell him about your reservations with the ‘law and order’ situation and how you’ve been begged to steer clear of the mafia. The statement is followed by a joke of you doing a horrible job at that, and Childe laughs, saying that you don’t have to be afraid of anyone in the city anymore.

The comforting sentence doesn’t comfort you at all.

The car stops in front of a restaurant and Childe opens the door to allow you to step out. Keys are given for valet parking, and Childe takes your hand as he leads you inside. Thankfully, it’s not as fancy as you thought. It’s not even as expensive, the kind of restaurant where you could arrange a fancy friend get-together.

The not so high end restaurant doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but sitting across Childe does. He apparently made a reservation for the rooftop, so here you are, wind gently blowing in your hair as he unbuttons another button of his shirt.

“Do you like it?” He’s looking at you now, eyes briefly going to your phone when you place it on the table.

“It’s… nice.”

“I didn’t choose somewhere any fancier because I figured you might get uncomfortable. Next time though.”

Next time? Good God what is he planning?

Your face may have given it away because he's tilting his head at you, earring dangling in tandem as he acts coy. "Is something wrong? Do you not like the idea?"

"N-no. That's not it…"

"Hm?"

You gulp. "Ah it was just a little sudden. That's all."

"I'm glad." He's back to smiling now, face resting on his palm. "I'll make sure to treat you like how you should be next time."

Again, next time? Not happening.

Childe grabs the menu, requesting that you let him order for you both. He says something about the taste of home and this restaurant being the only one able to recreate that, but you don't bother. You simply brush him off, telling him he can go ahead.

It's when a few minutes have passed since ordering that he speaks again. Luckily, the clanking of plates and chatter helps tone down your nervousness.

"I come here whenever I miss home. This restaurant actually originated from my homeland, so I thought I'd bring you here. It's not high end as well, so that's an added bonus."

You nod. "Interesting."

Elbow on the table, he rests his chin on the back of his hand, blue eyes studying you carefully. The observant gaze makes you feel small, and you end up clearing your throat when his gaze drops to your collarbone.

You look him in the eye as you speak. "It's a little awkward, isn't it?"

He tilts his head like earlier again. "What is?"

"The silence."

"Ah. Sorry. I just couldn't help myself. You look stunning."

Unlike the previous times, the compliment makes your cheeks heat up. It's probably because this time he's looking right at you with the faint hint of red on his cheekbones. Seriously. He's so human. You wonder how he ended up being in the mafia.

Childe doesn't allow silence to settle again, chatting away about his homeland and how he misses the snow. He says it's easier to go outside in this city's climate, but the memories and people back home make living there worth it. During his rambling, you simply nod along, only adding in a comment wherever you deem necessary.

Patience, you tell yourself. This'll pass. At least you're fortunate in the sense that Childe is accommodating and nice.

He continues rambling, telling you about his younger siblings. Fulgent expression and energetic voice, you lean forward to give him your attention, content that he's making good conversation. As you listen to him, your fingers start fidgeting with the cutlery set in front of you.

Your eyes remain on him as he recounts a story where his youngest brother Teucer refused to acknowledge his sister Tonia after she got a haircut. Hearing about the young child's inability to recognise his sister makes you chuckle which in turn makes Childe pause to look at you with widened eyes.

A smile stretches on his lips, and you trace the edges of the knife when he resumes.

"Mama was pretty concerned about that. It took Teucer a few days to accept that his sister looks different now. Ah. I miss them. They're a lively bunch and I miss being with them."

Your thumb runs up and down the edge of the knife while it's clutched in your hand, face resting in the palm of your free hand. "You can visit them if you miss them that much."

Childe gently shakes his head, hair swaying with the movement. "It's not possible at the moment." At your confused expression, he clarifies, "I can't tell you why. It's confidential information."

"That's fair."

"But I am glad I still get to be here. I got to meet you, after all."

"Oh. That's… nice."

"Mhm." He's leaning towards you as well now, both arms resting on the table. "Any development in your plan to visit home? You should go. If you're having any problems with the plane ticket or something then-"

"Ouch!"

The knife drops from your hand, clattering dully on the table. Blood oozes from the pad of your thumb as your hands shake from the startle. It doesn't take Childe even a second to be on his guard.

"You cut your thumb?" He gets up, drags his chair beside you and sits, knees brushing against yours. "You were fidgeting with the knife… well, no matter."

Instead of grabbing a tissue, he takes a hold of your hand and stares at the bleeding cut. More blood oozes out of it the longer he stares and one drop even reaches your palm. However, that isn't what's bothering you. It's the fact that he just licked that blood trail.

He licked it. And now he's sucking on where the cut should be.

The feeling of his tongue is what brings you back to your senses, confusion and panic overtaking your senses and overwhelming you. Pulling your hand away does nothing because his grip is too strong. Goodness, at least the few tables around you are empty and no one else seems to be looking.

"Childe."

He doesn't let go, pressing your thumb down against his tongue instead.

"Childe. Let go-"

A trail of saliva joins your thumb and his mouth. The two of you make eye contact and you notice a slight blush on his face. Childe then manoeuvres your hand, his lips on your palm as he tenderly kisses the skin messily.

The action gives you goosebumps but you remain quiet, still confused about what's going on. It's when he finally lets go and presses a tissue to the cut that he speaks.

"Be careful."

You remain frozen, hand in his while the tissue remains pressed over your thumb. You can no longer hear the faint background chatter or feel the gentle breeze in your hair. In your senses are dull blue eyes, freckles dusted across cheekbones and nose, and warm breath fanning over your ear when he leans in.

Childe's voice is a whisper, the edges of his hair tickling your cheek as the chair quietly croaks. "You shouldn't be playing with dangerous things."

He leans back again. With a smile, Childe gets up, drags his chair back to where it was, and seats himself. The air surrounding you both is casual, light, like something completely out of the blue didn't occur. This gives you the hint that it's best to not talk about it.

Elbows on the table, both his palms hold his face as he looks at you with a smile. The skin under his eyes crinkles slightly, freckled cheeks squished, and long auburn eyelashes framing the deep blues. You sit there puzzled and feeling slightly violated while Childe continues staring.

It's honestly a little funny.

Right when you concluded that Childe was nice, he does something completely uncalled for. You remove the tissue that was pressed to your thumb, pleased to see that your blood cells have done their job and the platelets coagulated. It'll probably turn into a scab by the time you get home.

Dammit, now you're nervous all over again. Curse you mass of neurons floating in cerebral fluid! Be useful! Sure, he just sucked on your thumb, but keep it together.

When you look at him again, he's still staring. With a sigh, you ask him about his job, what kind of work he does, but Childe only shakes his head, refusing to answer.

His excuse smoothly exits via soft, pink lips. You didn't know you were looking at them until you heard him speak.

"I don't think you'd enjoy hearing about my job. Plus, it's all confidential."

You will yourself to look back into his eyes no matter how difficult eye contact may seem. "Shady? Is that what you're implying?"

"Hm." He hums. "Let's just leave it at that."

So he admits it? Great. You can't wait for the evening to be over. The bag of chips sitting at home sounds very comforting and appetising right now.

When he continues talking again, you start fidgeting with the edges of your sleeves under the table. You need a distraction. Using your phone would be rude, so you figure abusing the fabric of your sleeves is a better option. It takes a little while for your food to be here, but when it is, you compliment his order and ask him about his choice.

The question serves to keep the conversation easy and light while allowing you to only answer, not speak. This in turn allows nothing uncomfortable to occur during dinner. It’s thankfully uneventful until it's time to pay.

You had no qualms about paying for yourself, but being Childe, he told you he’d take care of it. You had no problem with that either. What you did have a problem with was what he said.

“Let me treat my girl.”

My girl. That’s what he called you. If that’s not a red flag, you don’t know what is. Despite that, you suck it in and let him take you home. Patience. You’ll leave soon and never show your face in his active districts again. Maybe you’ll even transfer schools if you’re lucky.

You’re really hoping you can transfer. He might come find you himself after you come back from summer break. Even with all those troublesome thoughts in mind, you act as casual as you could while sitting in his car as he drives you home. Conversation was nice, the thumb incident was borderline violating, but the meal was tasty.

The car stops near your dorm’s entrance, but before you could make any move to exit the car - hand hovering over the handle - Childe locks the doors. You turn to look at him but he’s already looking at you.

“I need to ask you something,” he says, voice unsure and eyes not meeting yours.

Tentatively nodding, you signal him to continue.

“Did you… enjoy yourself?”

“Huh?” You scold yourself mentally for the confused expression. Clearing your throat, you compose yourself. “Yeah. As far as enjoying dinner goes.”

His eyes finally meet yours, and the eye contact is intense. “I take it that you’d like to do this again?”

“...”

“I don’t mean immediately but maybe sometime in the future?”

Sighing, you slump in your seat. “I can’t be sure.” It’s better to make things clear and not lead him on, even if it’s harsh. “I’m not… looking for something right now. It would be unfair to say yes to you when I don’t mean it.”

Childe’s grip on the edge of his seat tightens, the leather squeaking as it gets abused. “I understand. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t like me, right?”

“Um, yeah.” You can’t pull your eyes away from his. “You’re… nice.”

He blinks. “I’m nice?”

“Yes.”

Childe’s mouth opens in disbelief before he goes back to his senses with a shake of his head. He leans towards you, hand grabbing the back of your seat and eyes widened. “So that means I have a chance?”

“Well,” you laugh awkwardly, “I never said you didn’t. I just said that-”

“I know I know. You’re not looking for something right now, but that doesn’t mean you won’t change your mind later. I’m not going to do something weird, don’t worry. I just… won’t give up.” He’s smiling as he speaks, happy at the prospect of not being rejected. “I’ll keep trying!”

Honestly, the determination he has is cute but it’s almost 10 pm. “That’s great and all, but could you unlock the door? I really need to go.”

“Oh, of course.” The doors unlock with a soft click and Childe bids you goodbye with another concerning statement. “I’ll make sure you change your mind. It’s a promise.”

The chips in your room lived to see another day.

The events of last night’s dinner keep replaying in your mind. It’s like a curse, the moment when Childe grabbed your wrist and gently shoved your thumb inside his mouth. Even with the bandage over it, you can still feel the ghost of his tongue, wet and warm, licking it.

You stop in your tracks to shiver.

It’s infuriating how even on your way to your shift you can only think of him and how he promised to change your mind. So much for leaving without any trouble. Can’t he take a hint? Maybe he’s too dense. It does seem characteristic of him.

The bell chimes when you open the door and head inside. A few customers are browsing the store, one middle aged woman and two office workers to be precise, while the manager sits by the cash register. His white polo shirt greets you before he does and by the time you come back from the employee room changed into your uniform jacket and nametag, the customers are gone.

Beloved and totally not airheaded manager moves away from the register, handing you a little list of work to do and announces that he’s leaving to meet up with someone.

Not even ten minutes of him being gone and the dreaded blue eyed mafioso walks in.

The bell chimes to signal his arrival, and unfortunately you meet his eyes as he stands at the entrance. He’s dressed too casually today, a white T-shirt with some band name on it, blue jeans and white sneakers. If you weren’t aware of his lifestyle, you would’ve thought that he was just another young adult on the street.

“Hi!”

You return his greeting with a simple nod, and he comes in. The only sound is his footsteps till he stops on the other side of the register. You meet his dead eyes again, regret instantly seeping into your bones. Childe’s gaze is affectionate, soft. Being on the receiving end of such a look is overwhelmingly foreign and uncomfortable.

The freckles dusted across his cheekbones and nose catch your attention, but they fail to be graced with your eyes for long. You immediately look away when you realise you started to stare.

Regardless, Childe acts as though he didn’t notice and rounds the register to sit on the chair next to you like always. He doesn’t speak of the date. Typical conversation plays out, much to your surprise, and you mentally curse yourself for expecting him to bring up yesterday evening.

However, it’s not his casual physiognomy that bothers you. It’s his friendliness and the fact that he has started messaging you like one would a friend. Just yesterday he had texted you for the first time in his life and now he’s spamming you funny videos and memes?

Should… should you be worried?

It might prove to be more difficult to shrug him off. You didn’t want to be harsh and outright reject him for him after how he had seemingly tried to be kind and took you out for dinner, but now it seems like that would have been the correct course of action. It’s not that you’re rejecting him solely on the basis of being a part of the mafia. It’s simply your desire to not be in a relationship right now.

Perhaps he’ll respect your wishes like he did last night, even if he did claim that he will keep trying.

You should not push your luck. Really. You shouldn’t. You shan’t do so.

First, you leave his meme spams on read. Then, you have the gall to address him as ‘sir Tartaglia’ again by mistake. The instant fall of his smile had sent a shiver down your spine and reminded you of why you told yourself to be careful. Just because he likes you doesn’t mean you’re safe.

Maybe you are, but that change of expression has creeped you out to no end. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

It has been two weeks since the dinner and Childe has settled with chatting with you over text during the late night hours. Tonight, however, you’ve put your phone away in favour of watching something on your laptop. The screen illuminates your face in the darkness of your room, and your phone’s buzzing briefly catches your attention.

You ignore it, obviously. You’re leaving in one week. This little ‘friendship’ or whatever one could call it is pointless. You’ve already planned on blocking Childe on all the socials he’s invaded as soon as you reach home, a step towards never seeing him again. The less you let him get attached, the easier it’ll be for him to forget you and move on.

Childe is… a little annoyed. You didn’t reply to any of his texts for a few days, leaving it on read since he sends some random videos after the texts. He let it slide at first, but now he’s bothered. It’s evident in the way he isn’t smiling or even talking to you for that matter.

Not wanting to end up on his bad side permanently, you capitulate your ego. “Childe? Is something wrong?” You’re restocking the potato chips as you speak, head peeking over the short aisle to look at him while he sits at the register. “You seem off.”

He makes eye contact with a face devoid of any emotion as if that were the most natural thing to do in the situation. “Why do you ask?”

“I just said so. You seem off.”

“It’s nothing.” Childe looks away, opting to stare at his shoes. He’s wearing casual clothes today as well, something you noted he started doing more often after the date.

Seeing that he won’t budge, you go back to restocking but perk up again when you hear him speak, albeit very softly.

“You’re ignoring me,” he mumbles to himself.

So, you do what comes to mind. Leaving the chip packets on the floor of the empty store, you walk up to him, hands on your hips. “I’m ignoring you?”

He doesn’t look at you, his shoes the most interesting sight in the world. “Yeah.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You don’t talk to me. It’s always me who initiates the conversation.” He looks up, making eye contact. “Is it because I’m in the mafia and you don’t want anything to do with me?”

The subtle accusation makes you defensive immediately, and you stammer. “N-not at all-”

“It is, isn’t it?” The earring hanging from his ear briefly catches your attention when he tilts his head. “That’s why you lied and said that you weren’t looking for a relationship right now.”

“But I’m really not.”

“Relationships aren’t ‘looked for’. They just happen.” Childe leans back in his seat, making you grow more nervous. “And you don’t want one to happen with me just because of where I work.”

Your hands start fidgeting with each other on their own, tongue pushing against your mouth’s hard palate. It takes strength to reply to his imputation. “That’s not true…” Heart beating wildly in your chest, you push the words out. “It’s just… I don’t want a relationship right now.” Think brain, think! “It’s not you, it’s me.” Curse you mass of neurons and amygdala for thinking of this ginger as a serious threat. “So please, don’t think of reasons that aren’t true.”

“But they are true,” he states, like he’s telling you that the moon also exerts gravity on the earth, voice boring and flat. “You just refuse to admit it because you’re scared of me.” Childe’s eyes bore into yours again, seeing through your casual lies and crafted confidence.

“I’m not scared of you.”

“You can’t fool me, [Name]. I’d prefer you to be truthful. Lies just get on my nerves.”

You gulp. There’s no way out of this now. “Sorry…”

“It’s alright. Just keep that in mind for next time.”

“...”

“How can I change your mind?”

“What?” You blink at him, not understanding what he’s asking you. “What do you mean?”

“How can I change your fear of me into attraction? I don’t like knowing that you’re afraid of me.” Childe’s expression turns into a pleading one. Genuine helplessness is written all over his physiognomy which in turn makes you uncomfortable. You feel small under his watchful gaze. It’s as though he’s watching every single movement and breath you take.

“I… don’t know…” Your hands hang by your sides as you stand in front of him, lips pressed into a thin line.

Voice gentle, he tries to persuade you once again. “Please. Tell me how to win your heart.”

“I… I don’t know.” There’s a pitiful helplessness in your voice now, and you don’t know what makes you want to tell him what you are about to. But you do. And you have to watch the realisation appear on his face. “I never wanted your attention.” Admitting that somehow leaves a sour taste in your mouth. “I never wanted anyone’s attention. All I am is a student trying to make ends meet while cussing out the degree I chose for myself.”

Eyes wide, Childe tries negotiating. “I could make your life better.” Hands slam the desk in front of him as he stands, barcode scanner jumping and falling back with a thunk. “I just need one chance. That’s all I need.”

“I’m sorry, Childe, but-”

“No no. I’m not asking. You don’t have to give me one.”

You look into the lifeless blues of his eyes as he continues. “I’ll take that chance whenever I get the opportunity. You don’t have to worry your pretty head over it.”

Somehow his decision to take matters into his own hands unnerves you more than his blatant signs of attraction. It didn’t help that he wordlessly left the store after that.

Today is your last shift before you leave for home. Oddly enough, Childe didn’t swing by the store ever since he left the other day, and he isn’t here right now as well. It makes you uneasy. Something’s wrong. You can feel it in your gut.

He hadn’t even contacted you or sent any cat videos or memes, and being the coward that you are, you left things as they were. Hope that you won’t see him again keeps you going and stops you from poking at the obvious issue lest it bites you back.

But… you feel a little guilty. Even now as you stare at the floor on the other side of the cash register, you can’t help but recall how Childe tried his best to keep conversation flowing during dinner despite getting a very rude lack of input from your side. He’s been trying, and you’re the one not giving him the time of day.

Nonetheless, relationships aren’t built on pity. You hope he finds someone else, someone more suited for him. That’s the only wish you have for him even if the moral ramifications are eating you up on the inside.

Still, you can’t stop your mind from wandering to the question of what he meant by taking the chance when the opportunity presents itself. Does he somehow know about your flight? Well, if he did, he wouldn’t have disappeared. Best to end things on a good note rather than a bad one and stay in contact. But what if he doesn’t care anymore?

Though that outcome is the welcomed one, it still stings to think that. Someone losing interest in you isn’t exactly something that makes you feel good. Regardless, it’s welcome in this situation. You were never in favour of his attention being on you and you never will be.

At 7: 08 pm, the bell at the door chimes in goodbye as you step out. The evening rush hour greets you, and you go with the flow of the people rushing home after a long day or work. Well, it’s the weekend tomorrow. At least they have something to look forward to.

The building of your current residence comes into view and relief washes all over you. Just a bit more and you can get into bed. There’s still a few more hours till you leave, and all your luggage is packed. All you need to do is take a nap.

You practically skip to the entrance, the cool air of the lobby’s air conditioning hitting your face. No one is inside and you hurriedly make way to the elevator.

The nap you took felt like an entire night of rest. With a stretch, you jump out of bed to gather the rest of your things. It’s when you’re locking the door to your room when you realise just how quiet it is. Your apprehension is understandable, if not relatable. You’ve never exited your room after coming back home for the day, so you have no idea what the building is like after a certain hour.

Dragging your suitcase with one hand, hand carry with the other, you haul them both and yourself - the backpack on your shoulders being an honourable mention - inside the elevator. The air is uncharacteristically cool and dry, something elevator music fails to get your mind off of.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, but you ignore it in favour of dragging your luggage outside the elevator and into the lobby. Who would be calling this late? Probably your mother. The video call would cut when you step out and the Wifi disconnects, so it doesn’t matter. Key left at the receptionist’s desk, you mentally thank yourself for checking out online in the evening but pray that the key is still here by morning.

Hesitation wins and you end up leaving it next to the pen holder. You were told to drop it off at the desk. It’s not your fault it’s unattended.

The bus stop is a five minute walk away, so with a deep breath, you step out of the lobby and to the outside, allowing the night’s cool breeze to caress your face as your luggage stays grasped in either hand. Your eyes land on the empty road, praying that you don’t get creeped out by the lack of people.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you take a step forward, then another, and another, till you’re a few metres away from the building’s entrance. The breeze is still blowing and the air is cool so you won’t be hot during your wait at the sto-

“[Name]?”

The breeze stops blowing.

“Where are you going at this hour? And… why… is your luggage with you?”

Your breathing is the next to stop, though only momentarily.

Almost on instinct, you let go of everything in your hands and reach for the phone in your pocket. You don’t even bother looking at the source of the voice, eyes glued to ‘Childe’ glowing on your screen as the contact of the missed call. Heart hammering in your chest, you slowly turn to look at him.

Regret and fear seep into your bones at the same time. He’s wearing something similar to what he usually did in the beginning, garnet dress shirt and dark grey dress pants. The gloves on his hands cover his palms but leave the majority of the back of his hands exposed, phone held in the leather grip.

What your eyes focus on first, however, is the earring. It catches the light from the lobby behind him like a beacon, but you’re quick to look away and into the blue irises of his empty gaze.

There’s no time for you to question why you didn’t hear him before he spoke up.

“Are you leaving?” He takes a step forward, phone slipping inside his pocket, and you take a step back. The reaction is all he needs from you to raise his hands in surrender, only coming closer when the wary look on your face softens into something more observant.

“Are you going back home?” Childe stands only one step away when he asks that and tilts his head waiting for an answer. He receives one in the form of a nod, and questions further. “When’s your flight?”

“Half past 3 am,” is your reply.

“So you have a little less than four hours,” he points out. “I actually came here to talk to you. I uh… I missed you and couldn’t help it. If I knew you were leaving, I would have come sooner.”

You’re still watching him attentively, the clothing he’s wearing sufficient to ring alarm bells in your head. “So you wanted to talk?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” you bite your lip, “I guess I’m not running late. The bus will be here in fifteen minutes anyway, so I have time to spare.”

“Perfect!” He grabs both of your luggages and drags them in the opposite direction of your intended destination: the bus stop. It takes a stern question from you for him to stop and look at you with that empty gaze again. “I’m just taking you to my car. I’ll drop you off. There’s no need to bother yourself with the bus.”

Any demurrance from your side is promptly shut down and smoothed over with reassurances that he’d get you to the airport safe and sound. As your packed belongings sit next to the car, Childe eases the backpack off your shoulder and leaves it on top of them.

It’s when he looks at you that the anxiety skyrockets, eating away your consciousness. Alone with Childe, a highly ranked member of the mafia, at near midnight with all your belongings and an assurance to be dropped off the airport safe and sound is an obvious problem.

You should have listened to the uneasy feeling in your gut back in the store.

“So,” he drawls, standing a foot away from you with his hands in his pockets, “I know I was brash and that I shouldn’t have made you uncomfortable and also should have apologised to you later, but I won’t.”

That causes you to perk up, anxiety dying down a little. “You… won’t?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I won’t. It’s because I’m not going back on my words. I know you don’t view me as a potential partner, let alone friend, but that isn’t going to stop me.”

You don’t like where this is going.

Childe continues, eyes still boring into yours. “I don’t understand why you’re afraid of me. I’ve told and showed you countless times that I’m not going to do anything. It’s pointless to waste your energy. All I want is to exclusively be yours and call you mine. Why would I ever do anything to you if that’s what I wish for?”

The sir suddenly feels too suffocating, like not enough oxygen is filling your lungs. There’s a subtle darkness in your vision, one you deal with by walking to and leaning on the parked car, not that it helps. Not with the deeper breaths you’ve started taking. It doesn’t take any more indications for Childe to rush to your side, an unwelcome hand gently stroking your back.

The breeze flows again, caressing your face and blowing through your hair, but you’re still sweating.

You don’t know what happens next, just that you’re inside the car, the AC turned on, a light shining over your head, and a hand still running up and down your back while you take mouthfuls of breaths. They’re quicker now, you note, and a hand - your own hand - rises to cover your mouth as your sight and self-awareness is restored.

The confusion and vulnerability hits you like a truck and the tears simply fall harder.

Each and every time the hand moves over your back, you feel like more of your skin was peeled off, goosebumps still littering over your arms. It takes several minutes for you to somewhat calm down and become cognizant of your emotions and actions. It doesn’t come as a surprise when the first thing you decide to do in that state is cry harder.

What are you crying for? You don’t know. It’s hard enough as it is to just continue breathing. Processing your emotions is for later.

A hand, a foreign one, gently lifts your face, allowing the dashboard to come into view, and turns it to the source. Childe’s blurry image greets you as your chest heaves, warm thumbs swiping away the tears rapidly running down your cheeks. You don’t have time to dwell on where his gloves disappeared to, focusing on the feeling of his warm thumbs feeling cool over your tear stricken face.

Several minutes pass again, and you sit with your face in your hands while Childe puts your luggage inside the car trunk. Reddened, swollen eyes meet his blue ones in the silence of the car, your sniffling being the only sound. Whatever you just experienced was horrible. Had Childe not been… no. He is part of the cause. Him helping you through it is the least he could have done.

The driver’s seat is quickly occupied once again, and Childe breaks the silence, concern present all over his face. “Are you feeling better?”

You nod, too uncertain in your ability to speak. His question of whether or not you want some water is met with a shake of your head, and Childe settles with pressing his lips into a thin line.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think it would upset you that much.”

Voice slightly raspy, you reply after clearing your throat. “It’s alright. I… I didn’t see it coming as well.”

He slumps into his seat, head turned to look at you. Childe’s eyes glaze over your body, looking for potential signs of fear. It seems to him that you’re dazed, confused. It’s advantageous for him, if not relieving. Seeing you afraid or in pain doesn’t elicit any positive feelings.

After receiving your permission, Childe puts on his seatbelt - all the while making sure you fasten yours as well - and reverses the car, intending to drive you to the airport. You’re a bit late compared to what you originally planned, but you suppose he can get you there on time.

The car is eerily quiet with the lack of music. There’s no gentle humming from Childe, only the sound of either of you breathing. Unfortunately for you, the silence fails to last.

“So when are you coming back?” Childe’s voice is calm, flat. He’s completely casual in his question despite your concern that he wouldn’t take kindly to being lied to about such a thing.

“It’s one way,” you lie. Not being held accountable for your verbal deceit helps you gain some confidence. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’ll be back for class obviously.”

The car is silent again for a while and it fills you with hope for a quiet ride, one where you would get off, thank Childe profusely, and head home never to see him again. Alas hope is crushed, and you freeze in your seat, muscles tensing when Childe speaks again.

“How much more are you going to lie?”

Childe continues driving, acting unaffected with his demeanour and tone, but it wouldn’t take a genius to know that him gripping the steering wheel in a bone crushing grip is anything but him being casual.

No. He’s certainly upset, and you’re afraid you’re too much at his mercy.

“I gave you another chance and you ruined it.” Childe’s fingers tap rhythmically on the steering wheel, voice even as he speaks. “Why don’t we try again? When’re you coming back?”

You bite your tongue when you feel the initial signs of panic bubbling up your throat. It takes a bit of force to make yourself speak, even if it’s in a more fearful way. “Seven weeks. I’ll be home for seven weeks.”

“You’re not going to block me on your socials when you get there, are you?”

With a shake of your head, you continue looking out the window. “No.”

He hums, satisfied at your cooperation. “Good.” The car takes a turn, the empty roads seemingly omnipresent. “I’m not going to do anything. I just wanted to know the truth… er, more like hear it directly from you.”

A few minutes of silence pass, but it doesn’t last because you can’t stay quiet for longer. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“I am?” The smile in his voice is evident.

“Yes, you are.” You turn to look at him, nervously gulping at his grin. “Stop messing around.”

He doesn’t reply.

“Childe!”

Your panic fails to affect him in any way. With the fuzziness growing in your mind, there’s not much you can do except grab onto his sleeve. That causes him to look at you, even if just for a moment, but that’s all you get for a reaction. As a last resort, you reach for your phone in your pocket but freeze when you don’t feel the device.

You don’t need to say anything for Childe to provide the answer to your question. “Your phone isn’t there. It’s with me, I’m afraid.”

“Childe,” you say, voice low and pleading, “please stop screwing around.”

He sounds slightly offended when he replies. “You think I’m screwing around?”

“Yes!” Your exclamation doesn’t seem to affect him, so you opt for a more direct approach. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I came with you because I trusted you.” The words are spat out, but Childe only seems amused.

“Trusted me?” He chuckles. “Sweetheart, if you trusted me, you would’ve told me about your flight from the start instead of lying about putting in a one week notice. You’re scared of me, and despite the fact that it stings like salt on an open wound, I suppose there’s some merit to that as well.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?”

You bite the inside of your cheek now. There’s no way you can tell what Childe means by what he said. Judging from your previous conversations as well, your fear of him is a sour spot, but maybe you could exploit that to your favour.

“I’m afraid of you, because of your unpredictability and that is exactly what you are demonstrating right now.” You grab onto his sleeve again, albeit more desperately this time. “You gave me more reasons to fear you than you did to like you.”

The car slows, as if synchronised with Childe’s thought process. “Is that… really what you think of me?”

“Yes,” you reply in an even voice. “I was already a little scared from what I heard from people and then you started doing all this stuff-”

“Stuff like what?”

“Stuff like this!”

He sighs, moving the steering wheel to stop the car at the side of the road. “I just told you that I can’t ever hurt you, and you’re still calling me scary?”

Your eyes focus on his expression, specially searching for any signs of him lying - hypocritical on your part - but fail to find anything other than sincerity. The grip on his sleeve loosens, your hand ultimately returning to your lap, when he turns to face you. It’s intimidating to look into his dead eyes but it still makes you wonder how such a beautiful colour can be so lifeless.

Childe’s lips move and despite your feelings you find yourself absolutely memorised by the plush pink as his voice leaves his mouth.

“I’m not changing my mind.”

His declaration forces you to focus on his words, any attraction be damned.

“Lying to me and saying that you haven’t decided on leaving for home did get on my nerves a little,” he says, “but I forgive you. You’re cute, so I can’t stay mad at you for long.”

You let his words sink in. He says that he forgives you for the lie, but what now?

“Alright,” you drawl, voice nervous, “now can we please go to the airport?”

Childe leans in, a smile on his face. “How about instead of the airport, we go home?”

The word ‘home’ catches your attention and dread settles in. If he’s implying what you think he is, then you don’t think you’ll be able to catch your flight, let alone get to the airport.

“Childe,” you croon, “I think we have some misunderstandings. Before either of us does something impulsive and hurtful, let’s just talk it over.”

He just looks amused. “Oh? Talk over what? You’re the one pushing me away.”

You try again to de-escalate. “I only told you that I don’t want a relationship.”

“Liar.” Childe’s hand reaches for the edge of your seat, the skin below his collarbones and a little bit of his chest visible as he leans in closer. “We’ve already had this discussion before. Since you’re cute and obviously not in very good mental shape at the moment, I’ll give you a little bit of advice. Let me do my thing. I’m not going to hurt you, just… change your scenery a little.”

You narrow your eyes at him upon saying the word ‘scenery’. Though consternation eats you up on the inside, you trust that Childe wouldn’t do anything to you, at least not physically. What he is currently planning to do is a different matter.

Patience, you remind yourself. That might just be the only thing you have left.

“Now that that’s settled,” he says, going back to the steering wheel, “why don’t I take you home? I’m sure you’ll like it. It’s more comfortable and spacious than where you were living.”

In the most calm and even voice you could muster, you try pleading with him again. “Childe, please. Don’t do something that would make me hate you.”

He doesn’t even look at you when he answers. The lack of smile and his eyes fixed on the road as he continues driving does not help ease your increasing dread. “It might be a small bump, but the end destination is what matters in this case, not the journey.”

You glance to the door handle in an act of desperation but bite your lip when all hope is lost at the sight of the lock. Month old words hit you like a truck, patience being some elaborate scheme for the notorious members of society to make others more docile and submissive to them. After all this time, would it be wise to believe you’ll be alright?

#childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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fayes-fics · 1 year

Text

(Be)Longing

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Mutual rescue, mutual jealousy, longing and belonging.

Warnings: None, really. Angst, jealousy, fluff. Shyness and insecurities. Minor character injuries. Time jumps.

Word Count: 5.2k

Authors Note: This is an anon request fill here (request: Benedict x shy!insecure reader, with some angst, jealousy fluff, and all the good stuff. Happy ending, of course.). Sorry it took so long to get to this Nonny; I have no idea if this is what you wanted, and I'm really not sure about it, but I hope you enjoy <3

I: Saved

“Unhand her at once!”

The smooth, confident, older voice rings out across the village green, and suddenly the pack of nasty bullies who have your arms in a grip seem to melt away from around you.

You don’t even think to pause and thank the person who broke up the mob. No, your fight-or-flight response is in full-on flight mode. The minute your arms are released, and you see the break in the circle, you run. Run as fast as your legs will carry you. Bolting down the road and into the safety of the churchyard near your house. You do not want to run home upset and worry your mother, so you do the next best thing, the thing you are becoming increasingly good at, hiding. You climb a crabapple tree. And then you let the tears flow—just flooding down your cheeks.

You hate this new village your parents have moved you to. Your father, a doctor, had been offered the position as village physician, and now here you are, moved from Surrey to Kent, but it might as well be the other side of the world. You miss your friends. You miss your old village. You are not the most outgoing of people, and the upheaval in your life has been immense. You yearn to be back in your old, familiar, comfortable home.

You are sniffling, taking deep breaths, angrily wiping tears, and preparing to face your family when he appears.

“Are you alright?”

You startle. Beneath you, squinting up into the tree, is the owner of the voice who rescued you. Seeing him now, you feel an odd warmth in your ribs. He looks older, maybe fifteen, if you had to guess. He seems benign with a calm face, and his expression is one of sympathy and concern.

“Yes,” you squeak quietly.

“It is safe for you to come down,” he says gently, “should you wish.”

“Are they gone?” you query, wishing you could hide the tremble in your voice.

“They will not bother you again; I can assure you,” he states with absolute certainty.

Your eyes go wide, “What did you do? I don't want to make it worse for my brother,” you fret.

“I told them if they mess with you again, they will have the Bridgerton brothers to contend with,” he nods, with an air that suggests the name is of some local import.

“Is that you?” you ask timidly, not wanting to get down from the tree just yet.

He chuckles. “You must be new here?”

“Yes… we just moved here two weeks ago. Those boys have been tormenting my brother since his first day at school. They appear to have chosen me to pick on as he is not around,” you frown, dusting a twig from your skirt.

“Well, that ends now. Now, do you need help down?” he asks.

“No,” you sniffle, “I am capable.”

“I wouldn't doubt it,” he nods politely and steps aside to allow you space to jump down.

With a quick swing, you do so, landing neatly on your little brown boots. You unfurl to your full standing height, but even then, you have to crane your neck to look up at him.

“Very impressive,” he smiles warmly. “I am Benedict. Benedict Bridgerton. Welcome to Kent.” he thrusts out a hand to shake and, bemused at the formality, you take it and shake as if a businessman, not a ten-year-old girl.

“Thank you, Benedict. I am y/n y/l/n. My father is the new physician,” you gesture vaguely over the church wall towards your home next to the rectory.

“Ahhh,” he nods in understanding.

“And thank you,” you curtsy.

“Whatever for?” he frowns.

“For rescuing me,” you clarify.

“Oh please, that was nothing,” he waves dismissively. “I cannot abide bullies. Or any injustice really,” his eyes appear briefly unfixed, and he looks thoughtful, as if what he said just occurred to him as truth. Then he shakes his head and brings his attention back to you. “You are alright, though, correct? Able to get home?”

“Yes,” you confirm shyly.

“Then I shall be on my way” he tips an imaginary cap at you that makes you giggle, and he smiles goofily before turning away and walking out of the churchyard.

A little part of your heart yearns to follow him, the boy with the hazy, kind eyes and the pleasing smile, who just made your transition into life in the area much more bearable.

You and your brother are never bothered by that gang of boys again.

II: Envy

“Y/n, this is Miss Clarissa Worthing.”

Benedict introduces you to the willowy blonde whose hand is looped through the crook of his arm.

“Clarissa, this is Miss y/n y/l/n. She will beat half of my family at Pall Mall once you can coax her out of her shell,” he teases delicately with a friendly glint in his eye that makes your heart flutter against your ribcage.

Clarissa nods in cool acknowledgement, then cranes her neck to whisper something, her lips brushing his earlobe, her regard for you already gone. You curtsy politely, smile weakly and scurry away, feeling clumsy and out of place, unsure of what else to say to this swan-like beauty.

It's the summer after your fifteenth birthday, and he is back from his second year of university. It doesn't take much to deduce that this is the lady he is currently courting, accompanying him as she is to a garden party at Aubrey Hall. Jealousy clings to your skin like an invisible oily substance and taints your every thought.

Ever since that fateful day when he chased away your bullies, you have carried a torch for Benedict. The year after that incident, you sadly have to attend his father's funeral. Your own father unable to save the Viscount’s life. The forlornness on Benedict’s face as he stood there in the chilly church made your chest ache. You didn’t fully understand why at the time, but your impulse was to go up and wordlessly hold his hand. He looked so utterly unmoored and sad. You didn't, of course; you would never be so bold, but the impulse was so strong, a tingle on your palm that needed to touch him. It was all you could think about for days.

Over the intervening years, your soft spot for him grew with every encounter, the childish admiration morphing into something stronger, a deep-rooted longing. He always seemed to be the one who cared the most—about his siblings, his mum, and even the problems of the wider world. And as your body started to change and you began to feel differently about boys, your feelings for him had another layer of confusing complexity. His was the first face that popped into your head when your friends giggled about boys and talked of marriage.

Even now, it seems ridiculous to entertain that he would ever pursue you… you are stuck in small village life, the daughter of a doctor, not from a noble family, and he is off in the world, experiencing things you have no notion of. And yet he is the only man you have ever met who intrigues you that way. The idea of marriage not being entirely abhorrent, provided it is to him.

And so you just watch—the perpetual wallflower. Watch as Benedict and Clarissa make the circuit of the party. Effortlessly chatting among various members of the Ton, looking like the picture-perfect young couple.

“Makes you sick, doesn't it?” Eloise’s dry tone pops over your shoulder.

You smile at Benedict's little sister, just a couple of years younger than you and a kindred spirit at these events, mostly wanting nothing to do with them.

“She is very beautiful,” you offer politely, sipping your lemonade.

“She steals,” Eloise states plainly, making you splutter your drink all over your face and dress, the little immediate crowd of attention it draws to you mortifying. Luckily Benefict is far enough away and otherwise engaged that he does not see it. You are not sure you could live that down.

“That's a scandalous thing to say,” you hiss softly as you blush under the attention of a few strangers and furtively clean yourself with a serviette as best you can.

“Tell that to mother’s silk gloves,” Eloise volleys back, her disgust evident. Apparently oblivious to your embarrassing predicament or perhaps just uncaring of what others think. “She will be gone before the weekend is out, mark my words.”

You don't doubt it, knowing how spirited Eloise is. And how well she has her brother's ear. You know he will instinctively trust what she says as truth. As she marches up to grab his arm and pull him away, mostly, you wish you had more of her bravado, her fearlessness. While you agree with her outlook on many things, you are not built of the mettle she is—not one who draws attention. Still, you watch with a twisted, guilty, but victorious smile as Eloise pulls Benedict aside and has words with him.

You never hear of Miss Clarissa Worthing again.

III: Jealousy

“Lord Boswell would be a wonderful match, my dear,” your mother smiles encouragingly, handing you a slice of lemon drizzle cake.

You can't hide the curl of your lip at the mere thought.

It's the morning after the first ball of the season, just after your twentieth birthday, and you are in the London townhouse your parents have rented for the season, awaiting any suitors to call. Less than three days into your first season, you want the merry-go-round to stop. A dizzying whirl of social engagements you feel unequipped to deal with, wanting nothing more than to be back in Kent, stealing into the grounds of Aubrey Hall with a good book. Perhaps even spend time with Benedict.

Just the very thought of him causes a flare in your belly. Since his return from his studies in Cambridge, he has seemingly moved to Aubrey Hall full-time, spending his days painting the Kentish countryside with hopes of establishing himself as an artist. You have spent more time together in the last year or so than ever before, often finding yourself reading quietly in the shade with Eloise as he paints nearby, his company always somehow a balm as much as a thrill. And it feels as if there has been a subtle shift in how he regards you, giving you the unbearable lightness of hope. Perhaps he sees you in a different light now that you have come of age, no longer the child you were. There have been some moments where he has looked at you and felt it, like a weight on your skin; even as you doubt many other things about yourself, you don't doubt there is something there—a most wondrous and perplexing development.

Your butler bustles in and announces something that makes your heart leap into your throat.

“Mr Benedict Bridgerton has arrived.”

Your mother's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, giving you a sideways glance. A Bridgerton, even if not the Viscount, would be more than sufficient in her eyes. Especially one known so well to your family.

“To call on Miss y/l/n?” your mother asks, excitement evident in the breathy question.

“Oh no, ma’am, apologies. To see your husband. His brother, the Viscount, has dispatched him here to talk about some business in Kent,” your butler explains, somewhat apologetic as he realises the misconstrued intent.

Your mother’s disappointed face is only a match for your roiling stomach.

Your father folds his newspaper and jumps up. “I shall meet with him in my study, Jenkins. Please show him there,” and with a nod to you both, he leaves.

It has been just two days since your presentation to the Queen. That had been a waking nightmare. Parading down a long hallway at the Palace to be presented to her majesty filled you with utter dread. All eyes upon you, your every move and inch of appearance judged, and you are certain you were found lacking. Your status is unknown in the Ton; your parents pushing you into the season, hoping for an advantageous match. But you feel they could tell from one look where you belonged—almost invisible, on the periphery, a wallflower. Quiet, reserved, bookish, watching more than participating.

“Lord Boswell is here,” your butler reenters the room moments later.

Your stomach clenches. Your mother can barely contain her glee. You are so confused; you barely spoke two words to the man as you danced the previous night. Your conversation skills were utterly lacking, and he seemingly could not find an engaging topic to broach. You were keen for the music to end so you could return to standing and observing. You cannot believe that awkward interaction would be enough to propel the man to call on you, having said so little to each other just a few hours earlier. And yet here he is, a bunch of flowers in hand and a slightly vacant smile. The fleeting thought of marrying such a dull person makes you mildly nauseated.

Your mother hurries to the other side of the parlour and leaves you to converse, wearing a happy, hopeful expression that you hate to dash. And so you stumble the best you can through small talk. He talks of the weather, his property, and his interests but never asks anything about you—as if he is a candidate for a job you are interviewing for. In some ways, that is perhaps accurate, but part of you yearns for him to show interest in you, not just talk incessantly of himself.

Just as you give up hope of escaping anytime soon, you startle as he lays a hand on yours on the sofa between you. You don't even hear what he is saying anymore, just staring at where his glove covers yours, not liking the sensation, wanting to claw yourself away and withdraw.

Motion in the doorway makes you look up; Benedict is with your father. And suddenly, your heart is racing. Benedict looks taken aback; something sour in his expression you have never seen before makes you want to run to him and ask what is wrong. But you don't. You do the polite, reserved thing and smile.

“Mrs y/l/n, Lord Boswell,” he greets politely. “Miss y/l/n,” he adds, and you could swear he uses a different, lower register. Something inside you turns pulpy and ripe, blossoming just for him.

Before you know it, he has taken a seat on the sofa facing yours, shooting you the tiniest of winks that could be an eye twitch, but you know him better than that—seeing the sparkle of mischief in his eye. Your parents seem to exchange nonplussed glances, uncertain why he has chosen to stay.

“Boswell,” Benedict begins, shooting the man his most impervious glance. “What of your qualities make you an ideal suitor for Miss y/l/n here?” he questions.

Boswell splutters and seems taken aback, clearly not expecting such an interrogation, especially from a man who isn't your father or brother. Benedict’s eyes are back on you as the man stumbles through an inadequate and entirely uninteresting response that you do not even listen to. Your whole focus is on Benedict, feeling unable to breathe.

“Hmmm,” Benedict hums as he ends, “and what have you to say about Miss y/l/n’s interests? Are they perhaps complimentary to yours?”

“I… I did not think to ask,” Boswell falters, his cheeks reddening at the faux pas.

Benedict looks almost disgusted.

“You claim to be interested in providing your suit but ask nothing of what makes her the wonderful person she is?” he scolds, and your mouth opens into a little O of surprise. “Have you not asked her about her excellent marksmanship? How she can shoot an archery target better than anyone else within ten miles of Aubrey Hall? Have you not asked after her artistic skills? You see that cushion you sit next to? That is the work of her fair hand.”

You barely register as Boswell twists to look at the item and then at you; you have eyes for no one but Benedict as he continues, his voice loud and clear even over the sound of your heart pounding hard in your ears.

“Have you asked her about her love for literature and poetry? How she will correct you that it was, in fact, Guildenstern, not Rosencrantz, who enters first in the first folio version of Hamlet?”

You duck your head and blush. That is precisely what you did to him last year, surprising even yourself with your boldness. And he remembers.

He continues. “Have you asked about her love of animals? Perhaps you need to hear the tale of Mr Whiskers and how she was able to nurse the beloved cat of my sister Hyacinth back to health. You have not asked her of any such things?!?” his tone incredulous.

Even from the corner of your eye, you can tell that your parents’ faces are as shocked as Boswell’s. And suddenly, you recognise this as a Benedict Bridgerton you have seen before. It’s the one that comes out when defending those he loves against injustice or an unworthy opponent—the staunch guardian.

“If you cannot find it in yourself to show such interest, I would hope she will entertain better suitors,” Benedict sniffs dismissively. “As a long-term friend, I cannot in all good conscience allow this young woman to be pursued by anyone unworthy of her,” he concludes cuttingly, his nostrils flare, and his lip curls just a fraction as his eyes flit to where Boswell’s hand still rests upon yours.

Even as you struggle through your jumble of thoughts about everything he has said, one question so singular strikes you. Is this is Benedict….. jealous?? Jealous of your suitor? Finding ways to cut into him with his precise knowledge about you? The thought seems so fanciful that you want to dismiss it, but the sliver of possibility it offers is exhilarating. Just the chance of it being true has you utterly undone.

You barely even listen as your father jumps up and, with some belated sense of defence, agrees with Mr Bridgerton and asks Boswell if perhaps he should take his leave and return another day when he has thought of more engaging things to ask of you. Every fibre of your being yearns to talk to Benedict somewhere private, but he gives excuses to leave as quickly as your chastised suitor is dispatched.

Boswell never darkens your door again.

IV: Rescue

“Penny, for your thoughts,” Eloise smirks as she catches you staring into space on the terrace. Your cheeks blush, and you do not admit to where your thoughts had wandered—to her older brother.

“Will you come with me for a walk?” you ask, feeling the need to get away before you cross paths with the man who has occupied your thoughts more often than not of late.

It’s the week of the midsummer Hearts & Flowers ball at Aubrey Hall, and you are glad to have escaped the hubbub of the London scene and to be back in Kent for a few days' respite.

“No, I would prefer the company of Mary Shelley this afternoon,” she states airily, waving a book she holds.

So you set off alone, walking the grounds you now know so well. You are half an hour into your stroll, admiring the wildflowers along the eastern fringes of the grounds, not far from the village, when you see him approaching in the distance.

Benedict is riding his trusty horse and looks so majestic your chest constricts. Clothed in just a billowing white shirt and beige britches, you have rarely seen him look so informal. Or so very, very attractive. Your palms feel sweaty, and something stirs deep inside your body as you slink slightly into the treeline, hoping to remain unseen. A chance to merely observe this beautiful man, even knowing it is wrong to do so. To spy on him as such. Just as he draws close enough that you can see the flex of his leg muscles under the material, which causes all sorts of sensations in your body, a startled deer darts across the path and spooks his horse.

Time seems to slow as you watch his horse rear up and make the most terrible whinny of fear.

And then your heart is in your throat as you watch horrified as Benedict loses his grip on the reins in surprise and is thrown violently backwards to the ground.

Bile rises in your throat as you see how his body hits the dirt path, unable to brace for impact. The air fills with a blood-curdling scream that you belatedly realise is your own, and before you know it, you are sprinting. Sprinting towards him. Your whole focus narrows to his body splayed on the ground, worryingly still, as his horse bolts away. Heart pumping wildly and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you pull up to him and skid to your knees.

He is still conscious but barely. Moaning slightly.

“Do not move!” You bark, and even in his woozy state, he appears taken aback by your ferocity. “I mean it, Benedict!” you bite out as he attempts to move his arm.

He seems to mumble a noise of ascent as you try your best to assess any injuries, having learned some things from observing your father over the years, but you realise he needs proper medical attention. Where you are on the grounds, it’s closer to your home than Aubrey Hall.

“I am going to get my father,” you explain as calmly as you can, “for the love of God, Benedict, do NOT attempt to move until he gets here.”

A wan smile spreads across his face even as he winces in pain. “Hmm, fine. I promise to stay still,” he sighs, “....prefer to do it for the love of you…,” he mutters slurringly before he appears to pass out.

Knowing he has likely struck his head, you try your darndest to put what he said out of your mind. A head injury would be the only way to explain such a comment, even as you are praying he doesn't have one.

Heart still beating out of control, and not knowing what possesses you, you lean over and press the quickest shyest of kisses onto his lips—pulling back a few inches before he can even acknowledge it happened.

“Don’t you dare go anywhere on me, Benedict Bridgerton,” you whisper fiercely, just in time to see his eyes pop open, hazy and clouded with something you have never seen before. It’s not the pain he is in, though. And it’s not confusion, amusement or even irritation. It’s something else, so blisteringly intense your legs want to turn to jelly.

“I won’t, I promise,” he attests, his tone rough, ragged.

There are a couple of seconds where all you do is stare wildly at each other, and then, with a reassuring squeeze of his hand, you take off running. You have never run so far and so fast in your life; fear makes your muscles work harder than they ever have before. It’s probably only a few minutes, but it feels like a lifetime.

Your parents almost burst out of their skins in shock as you barrel into the house, panting wildly, wordlessly grabbing your father's medicine bag, and he reflexively springs into action.

You run to the stables and hurriedly hook up the long cart he uses when he needs to transport patients, and the look he shoots you is filled with concern.

“Who is it?” he asks as you climb aboard and direct him.

“Benedict,” you tremble, and there is a world of understanding in your father's eyes as he cracks the whip, and the horse jolts faster.

Perhaps your adoration is less concealed than you like to believe, but at this moment, you only care about getting him the help he needs. You are grateful your father doesn’t ask questions as you speed along.

And it becomes a blur as you reach the site, grateful Benedict laid still as you requested. Your father examines him and fires questions that are answered lucidly, tending to some immediate wounds and bandaging in places. Before you know it, you are helping your father with a canvas stretcher and insisting on sitting with Benedict in the back of the cart as your father takes the patient back to Aubrey Hall.

Never addressing the fact that you grip each other's hands so tight that both of your knuckles go white.

V: Belonging

“You can come in.”

Benedict’s voice calls out, bemused as you vacillate in the doorway, not realising that he can see you in a mirror reflection.

So at his invitation, you blush and scuttle into his room. Awkward, unsure what to do after your bold, daring, downright impertinent behaviour when he sustained his injuries. Part of you is hopeful he does not remember it.

It’s been two days, and he has made excellent progress under your father's watchful eye. The minute your father had pulled up at the house, you dropped your hold on his hand. And as word spread, it was a frenzy of activity that you found yourself superfluous to. The last you had seen was Benedict being carried inside for a more thorough examination.

Luckily, it turns out he has no lasting damage; his head was uninjured beyond a mild concussion. He is bruised all over, likely has some cracked ribs and has a sprained wrist, but he will be fine after some rest.

“H.. how are you?” your ask quietly, stilted, fiddling with your dress nervously.

“Much better,” his tone soft, “only because of you.”

You look up and meet his gentle gaze. “I merely did what anyone would have done,” you demure.

“Nonsense,” he counters, “you ordered me to stay still and await the doctor. If you weren’t there, I likely would have done myself additional injury being stubborn,” he points out dryly.

You don’t know what to say in response, so you change tack. “Is your horse alright?”

“Yes. Colin found him wandering around the wildflower meadow, munching on all manner of grasses. Never happier, completely uninjured,” he assures.

You nod, glad to hear the news. Then you allow the room to lapse into silence, unsure how to commence your profuse apology.

“I am very sor….”

He stops you with a bandaged hand held up.

“If you even begin to apologise for saving me, well then I shall be most vexed,” he chides, but there is no heat there, a lopsided grin tugging at his handsome features. “Besides, the more pertinent point of discussion is the fearless woman you can be when needed. The person you are becoming, when you allow yourself to, is quite something,” you bow your head as your cheeks heat at his praise. “I would have injured myself months before now had I known I would meet the creature who sits behind that cloud of shyness. Just look at what you did, taking change so very effectively,” he flatters then there is a pause. “Hell, even being brave enough to kiss me.”

Your head shoots up, and your mouth falls open.

“Oh yes,” he chuckles, “don’t think I forgot that part,” His voice has lowered to a pitch that buzzes right through your being.

“I… I was worried I… I was going to lose you,” you stutter, “and I-I’m sorry that was terrible of me to take liberties like that. Please, please forgive me?” you beseech.

“It was not in any sense of the word terrible,” he disputes, “the exact opposite. There is nothing to forgive. But there is one way you can make it up to me…?” he hedges.

“Anything, please,” you beg, so hopeful of absolution.

He holds out his hands and gestures for you to perch on the bed beside him. Almost without thought, you do so, even as you feel your pulse speeding up. You have rarely been this close, and now you are transfixed by all the tiny flecks of colour in his iris and the hints of stubble around his jaw.

“Kiss me again,” he requests; a finger trails lightly over the back of your hand. “But properly this time. Give me a chance to kiss you back.”

You just gawp at him in utter shock, heart pounding again, just like it was that day. You don't move away. You can't. Rooted to the spot. Unable to stop staring at his plush bottom lip.

“You cannot mean it…” you stutter when you finally find your tongue, disbelieving.

“Does this seem like I do not mean it?” he argues ardently, and before you know it, he is sitting up and leaning in.

And then warm lips touch yours, and fireworks explode inside your chest.

You feel like you are drowning in the very best way as your lips move together gently. Everything about the moment is sweet and light, but promising more, something tart that makes you want to climb atop him and crush yourself against him. Just as you feel the instinct to open your mouth to him, he pulls back, looking lost and found all at once.

“I need you to know something,” he begins, grabbing both your hands and placing them between his. “It pains me to see you ever doubting yourself or if you belong. You belong. Everywhere you go. You have so much to give to the world,” he states passionately.

“I… “ you falter, wanting to believe him, the version of you he sees.

“You do. Hell, you give me a reason to get up every day. To try. To be better. I would not be the artist I am now were it not for your words of encouragement as I painted all those afternoons.”

You are dumbstruck. You honestly didn't believe he was taking on board what you said. Mostly just encouraging him to follow his instincts when he seemed to doubt them.

“And now it’s time someone did the same for you. Be the encouragement you need. You deserve everything, y/n. And it would be my greatest honour to try to give it to you?” he adds, a gently loving smile lighting up his face.

Your heart sings as you realise this is the declaration you have been waiting half of your life to hear. Before you can stop yourself, you launch yourself at him, this time being the one to demand a kiss that he happily obliges.

“I have a question,” you state as your lips part, your boldness growing with every moment. “Mr Bridgerton, were you jealous when I had a suitor?” you tease, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

He chuckles and nuzzles your cheek. “My god, you have no idea.” You cant help the victorious giggle, basking in the fizz in your veins.

“I suppose it was payback for Ms Worthing. She of the ironic name. She was never worthy of you,” you state passionately.

He laughs with a headshake. “Perhaps it is our ability to rescue each other that makes us so best suited,” he opines. “I do believe we may belong together,” he adds.

And you couldn't agree more.

In fact, you are never alone again from that day on.

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3K notes · View notes

heavenlyvision · 6 months

Text

Bare II

Word count: 12.8k

Pairing: Liu Kang x F!Reader

Read part one ˗ˏˋhereˎˊ˗ first !

A/N: Part 2 is finally here !! I am sorry it took so long. I lost power at home due to bad storms that came through on Christmas night and have been staying elsewhere, it’s really messed with my writing schedule :((( hopefully the power will be back on at home soon <33 Anywhos, enjoy this creation of my insanity !!!

Summary: Liu Kang pushes you on his want to train you in self-defence and you get to the bottom of why it’s so important to him. Later that night, he wakes you up from his heat… he seems to be having a really good dream.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst but like not really, grinding, cockwarming, p in v sex, light edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, light burns, menace!Liu Kang, minor mention of creepy stranger

When you wake up you’re still in Liu Kang’s bed, it’s warm and comfortable but he isn’t in it. Dragging yourself up, you sit in his bed and look around the room, which is also devoid of his presence. Your limbs feel heavy as you move, the ground is cold on your feet as you get out of his bed.

The sound of your bare feet hitting the floorboards is filling the quiet house and once you’ve reached the kitchen you can smell something good. There’s a plate of food and a cup of tea sitting on the counter, left for you, Liu Kang is nowhere to be seen but he seems to have made you breakfast and left you a note.

Looking at the note you can see that he’s… stupid. Big fire God is stupid. You skim it but essentially it has the vibes of “I have to go… we will talk about last night later.” Why are men dumb? You sigh and shake your head at the note, already exasperated with him, you wish he’d have woken you up to talk, how long would the conversation have taken.

All this note does is bring you unease, how hard would it have been to write something that doesn’t induce the fight or flight response in you? Seriously? All he had to write instead was, “Stellar sex, I am a busy fire God and have fire God shit to do but I am looking forward to seeing you later”…just something less ominous would have done wonders for you and your anxiety.

Now, you are grumpy, resulting in you eating your breakfast and drinking your tea, stewing in your annoyance. He is allowed to have doubts or whatever his note is meant to get across but leaving a weird note is, well… stupid. Briefly, you wonder what would happen if he came back and you were still here, his note said he intends on speaking with you later but that also feels like an aversion tactic.

To be fair, last night was more of a heat of the moment thing, you haven’t even considered what you would want from him. If he has no feelings for you then maybe it would be better to chalk it up to a mistake, you aren’t stupid, you like him… a lot and being a casual hook up is something you wouldn’t survive. Not from him, it would hurt too much but he doesn’t come across as having no feelings for you. He also doesn’t seem the type to do casual hook-ups.

Leaving without communicating with you properly is irritating, now you’re having to sit here and think of all the what ifs. It’s a waste of time and energy, especially since only one outcome is going to occur anyways. Still, you can’t help but sit here and wonder about what might happen, what he might want, if he would even honestly tell you what he wants.

The note is too vague and mostly conveys doubt in himself and his actions, it’s not explicitly stated but you know him well enough now to read between the lines. If he had felt completely guilt free, he would have stayed or woken you up to say goodbye. He had time to make breakfast, which means he had time to talk to you about this and chose not to.

Sighing again, you get up and clean the dishes he used for you, this day is going to be exhausting, you can already tell. You put your pants from last night back on and grab the rest of your things, ready to head back to your quarters. At the last second you remember the book he gifted you and run back to the room to grab it, it’s still on the nightstand where you left it.

Picking it up, you look it over and take notice of the copy he got. It’s the same published copy you had, which must have taken a bit to find because you got your copy some years ago now. He used some sticky notes for thoughts that wouldn’t fit in the spaces between the words, you did the same thing with yours. He’s properly read it; you can tell by the way his annotations are well thought out and eloquent. It’s such a kind gesture and it displays care for you in a way you’ve never experienced before.

A memory you have with your ex is when you’d asked him if he’d ever read your favourite book and he all but laughed in your face. You just wanted to be able to talk with him about it but obviously he never cared all that much for you. Relationships are hard and messy and now you are wondering what exactly you want. Grabbing the book and everything else you came with, you leave. Ready to walk back.

With the daylight, the trip through the Fire Temple is significantly easier to make. Nothing is obscured and you know exactly where you are, though you know you had poor visibility last night, you still can’t help but feel silly over getting lost and showing up at Liu Kang’s door the way you did.

You also can’t help but feel a little miffed by his blatant avoidance of you this morning, he gave you great sex, great orgasms, and the best gift you’ve ever received only for him to duck you in the morning. What the hell is that? You think the note wouldn’t even be that bad if he had said something less vague.

The walk back is filled with you angry mumbling to yourself, trying to understand his motivation, trying to understand how you’re feeling. Reading yourself and how you feel at any one point is hard, it’s why it took you so long to realise that you weren’t happy in the relationship with your ex. You knew something was wrong, you just took a bit to pinpoint it and by the time you had, it didn’t matter anymore.

Leaving was too difficult and you were comfortable, well, maybe not comfortable but it was familiar. The effort of moving out or asking him to move out was a hard thought and it left you feeling trapped. Clearly, he did not feel the same, having no trouble kicking you out when he was done with you.

When you get back, the house is quiet and dark, the curtains are open but it’s still cloudy out after all the rain last night. It actually looks like you might get more. You decide to change out of the clothes you’re wearing into some fresh ones, finally wearing a pair of your own clean, dry underwear.

For a good chunk of the morning, you read the book gifted to you, reading over Liu Kang’s thoughts as you go. He has given well thought out insight into how the book has made him feel and why he thinks certain choices were made by the characters. A lot of the thoughts he had align with your own, he even picked up on a couple small things you hadn’t considered in all your read throughs.

It’s still one of the most thoughtful things someone has ever done for you and as you sit here reading how much thought he has put into his notes, you realise that being just his friend isn’t what you want, everything about him has captivated you. You aren’t sure what it is exactly you want from him but you don’t want things to go back to how they were before.

Before you lose your courage, you get up and leave to go looking for him. Waiting on him could take no time at all or too much time and you aren’t willing to wait right now. You aren’t exactly certain on what you’re going to say when you find him but if you don’t find him now, you might not ever tell him how you really feel.

Honesty is hard because it leaves you feeling exposed and open, honesty regarding how you feel is something you struggle with but you aren’t going to let your own hang ups get in the way. Not with him.

The first drops of rain start to spit onto the ground below you and you consider going back to get an umbrella before ultimately deciding against it. Right now, finding Liu Kang is urgent, you only hope you find him fairly quickly. Especially if it’s about to rain now like it did last night.

The first stops you make are all his usual hang outs but he isn’t at any of them and you’re starting to get wet, the rain isn’t harsh like last night but you certainly aren’t dry. The last place you check is where you usually meet for tea but he isn’t here either, how is it that you seem to have the worst luck when it comes to finding him.

By the time you decide to give up your search and go home, you’re thoroughly soaked, your stomping footsteps have the water flicking back up at you. It’s chilly, not freezing, due to the fact it’s about midday or early afternoon, you can’t be certain on the exact time but either way the water has a cool bite to it without freezing you to the bone.

When you stomp your way into your house, Liu Kang is already there, seemingly about to leave after not finding you. He’s the tiniest bit damp but nowhere near as wet as you, looking to his right hand you see he’s holding an umbrella. The thought of a Fire God using an umbrella is funny to you.

He speaks first, “You need to stop going out in the rain.”

“In my defence… it hadn’t been raining like this when I left,” you shrug at him with your hands slightly raised.

He retorts, “Was that not your last defence too?”

“Maybe,” you mumble, eyes averting his.

His tone is amused but also exasperated by you when he asks, “Why were you out there?”

“I was looking for you,” your eyes meet his again, “I wanted to talk with you.”

“I said I would talk with you later,” he seems confused.

You argue back, “No, you wrote a weird note that said you would talk with me later, which thanks for that by the way. Totally didn’t fill me with dread reading that first thing in the morning.”

“It was not my intention to worry you,” he steps closer as he speaks.

“Well… you did.” Your arms cross over your chest, still a bit cold. “How hard would it have been to wake me up and talk with me then.”

“I did not want to wake you.” He considers you for a moment, “You were sleeping so peacefully.”

You only scowl at him, it’s meant to be a kindness on his behalf but it felt cruel waking up to a weird letter from the man you slept with the night before. One that you have feelings for at that.

There’s quiet in the room for a moment, a quiet he breaks, “You should change out of your wet clothes.”

You hum at him and move across the room, slipping your shoes off first and leaving them at the front door. You’re only gone from the room for a minute, quickly changing out of your wet clothes into some dry ones, too many outfit changes for today.

Back in the living area, he’s moved to rest against the dining table, not sitting at it but waiting by it, for you. You stand in front of him and awkwardly shuffle your weight back and forth on both feet.

“What exactly about my note upset you?” He’s careful as he speaks, not wanting to upset you further.

“For starters, you left a note.” You look at him, brows raised a touch, “And secondly, your note displayed nothing but guilt or regret, it’s not a nice thing to read after a night that… after a night like that.” Your gaze avoids his again.

He takes in a breath, “My intention was not to make you feel bad…but I am not sure last night–”

“–I am gonna have to stop you right there, big guy.” You cut him off and talk before you’ve fully thought through exactly what you want to say, “I don’t want to hear about how you’ve talked yourself into thinking it was a bad idea. I liked it… I like you.” You’re internally screaming, you just admitted you liked him without thinking it through properly.

“You are making this difficult,” he sighs.

Your brows pinch at his statement, “I’m making what difficult?”

He gestures between the two of you, “Putting distance between us, this is not the most conventional situation, and I am not certain I am good for you.”

Of course, that is where his concerns lie, you tell him clearly, “I don’t want there to be distance between us.”

Initially, his voice is firm, eyes intense, “I do not have the luxury of being selfish…” And then he softens for you all at once, “…But you make me want to be.”

Your skin feels warm at his words, “You have a bad habit of saying things that make me incredibly happy.”

The beginnings of a smile are forming on his face, “Should I stop?”

“…No.”

He smiles full at your response; it’s tinged with a kind of smugness you would normally find unappealing but can’t help but enjoy on him.

You’re not going to let him know that though, “Don’t smile at me, I am still upset about your stupid note. Your pretty words haven’t changed that.”

“My note was… not well thought out. I apologise,” he seems sheepish, his apology genuine.

Keeping a straight face, you reply, “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I think so too,” his smile is so tender as he looks at you.

The way he’s looking at you makes you break, your mostly faux annoyance dropping from your face. You step closer and wrap your arms around him, hugging him. The action confuses him a bit, or at the very least catches him off guard. It takes him a second, but he hugs you back, pulling you closer to him and holding you firmly.

He’s warm and he smells nice, and you could stay here indefinitely, “Just to be clear, you like me too, right?” You feel embarrassed asking him, but you want clarity.

He pulls you back to look at you, both his hands reach up and hold either side of your face, his hands are gentle with you, “So much.”

The smile that breaks out across your face is large, beaming up at him. His eyes are bright, dazzled by your happiness. He leans down and kisses your cheek; you turn your face to the side slightly so you can kiss him on his lips. It’s quick, a small peck but he uses his hands on your face to adjust you, he leans down and takes your lips in his properly.

His kiss is full, heady. He moves his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your arms move up to loop around his neck. The hands on your hips wander slightly, moving to your back, the back of your head before moving back down to your hips. He’s overwhelming you completely, his touch is everywhere, his lips are soft but firm, demanding in the way he kisses you.

Suddenly, you’re being lifted, he’s pulled you up and he sits you on your dining table, your legs open for him to stand between. His lips go from yours to the side of your face, pressing kisses to your cheek. He trails them down to your neck; his mouth is hot, and his kisses are wet. He lightly sucks at your neck, nipping you every now and again. He’s being careful not to leave any marks behind, but he very clearly wants to.

The gasps and small noises that he pulls from you can’t be helped, you’re sensitive, especially to his touch. He trails his kisses back up the length of your neck, ending right beside your ear. His breath against you makes you shiver and hold back a whine.

“You are such a reactive little thing,” he mumbles against your ear and he’s right; you are but you could’ve sworn you weren’t. It’s just him.

Fighting back another shiver, you go to reply to him, but he breathes on your ear and what would have been the beginnings of your sentence cut off into a small whimper. When he pulls back, he has a very pleased look on his face. You’re scowling back at him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

One of his hands reach up and grasp the side of your face, he angles you up slightly before leaning down and planting a full kiss on your lips. One you accept and return, despite your annoyance with him.

He moves back and hums, “As much as I would love to stay here and play with you, I have to go.”

“Cruel.” You comment, pouting at him.

He has a light smile on his lips, the rest of his features easy as he looks at you, “I will see you tomorrow, I’ll come get you.”

You can’t help but be sceptical of him, his tone is hiding something, “For what?”

“I am going to begin teaching you self-defence,” his expression holds steady, he’s not asking anymore. He’s being polite but his tone has an underlying dominance to it, not willing to argue with you on this.

So, you sigh at him, displaying that you’re still not completely on board, “Fine.”

“You will do great,” his hand holds onto yours, gripping it once in encouragement.

The concerns you have don’t have anything to do with how you might do performance wise, it’s more that you don’t really see it necessary and would rather avoid a fight it you could. Like you’ve told him previously, he keeps you separate from everything for the most part, so you don’t really understand why he wants this of you so badly.

The only reason you’ve continued to be so difficult about this is because it feels like he’s keeping something important from you and you’ve been trying to push it out of him. But as you’ve just witnessed, he is not entertaining conversation regarding this anymore. Not like that will stop you though, you just have to find a better opening.

“I am not worried about that,” your own hand grasps his once in response.

He knows what you mean, he’s been aware of the way you’ve been feeling him out every time the topic of ‘training’ comes up. He isn’t going to divulge anything though, instead he smiles politely at you and kisses you again. For the final time before he departs, his absence already felt the minute he’s out the door.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

In the morning, Liu Kang keeps his promise. Which is unfortunate for you, it’s early morning and quite frankly, it’s too early for you when he’s knocking on your door. You don’t even want to get up and let him in, but you do. Which is quite the effort for you, but you manage and potter over to the front door, pulling it open to reveal him in all his glory. He looks good, he looks ready for the day… you do not.

His eyes are alight with mirth when he sees the state you’re in, still in your pyjamas, completely unkempt and unready for the day, “You look lovely,” he comments.

You groan at him, “It’s too early.”

“It is early, I can make some tea for you?” He’s trying to butter you up, since you’ve finally caved into what he wants.

You step to the side so he can enter, “I would like that.”

He moves closer to you, leaning down to kiss your cheek before brushing past your frame. He’s familiar with your kitchen and puts the kettle on, “You can get changed, it will probably be done then.”

“I will be back,” you smile at him, having him in your kitchen making tea for you makes your chest bloom with happiness.

Your footsteps can be heard shuffling back down the hall towards your room, Liu Kang can be heard opening cupboards in the kitchen. The clinking of mugs can also be heard as he grabs a couple of them for the pair of you.

In your room, you move over to your set of drawers, considering what would be most comfortable for today. You assume he’s going to have you moving around quite a bit, so you’ll have to wear something light and easy to move in. The safest bet is a pair of pants and a simple shirt, basic but should get the job done.

Once you’ve changed, you walk back to the kitchen where Liu Kang is, he’s sat at your dining table waiting for you. A cup of tea sitting across from him, for you.

You sit down in front of him, “Thank you for the tea.”

“You are more than welcome,” he answers, watching you as you take your first sip.

It’s warm and made exactly how you like it; he always makes it perfectly for you. A man of many talents. The tea soothes you, making you feel better about starting the day so early.

Your words are mostly spoken into your cup, “You better not make this a habit, I am not a morning person.”

He hums at you, “I make no promises.”

Your eyes squint at him over the rim of your mug, annoyed at the possibility of him waking you up this early regularly. He just smiles graciously back at you.

After tea, he washes up your mugs, even though you protest. Then he’s leading you out of your house and to a quiet area of the temple you have never been. It’s secluded but open, the perfect area to have tea. Not to Liu Kang though, to him it’s the perfect area to teach you self-defence.

You haven’t told him, but you actually know self-defence to a certain extent. You were single and living by yourself in the city for some time, so you had taken up some classes on it. It went fine, you aren’t skilled or anything, it’s just the basics in case you get assaulted or mugged. You know enough for if you need to get someone off you long enough to get away.

Your experience in the classes is part of the reason why you didn’t want to do this in the first place, the teacher was sketchy. He never did anything to you, but he enjoyed teaching that class a little too much and his hands lingered for just a little too long sometimes. You don’t know if it was malicious or not, but you were uncomfortable enough to never go back and not enrol in any new classes.

The idea of doing this with a stranger was a hard no but having it be Liu Kang makes it easier, you’d still rather not do it but that’s more because he’s keeping something from you. Something you will find out today, he will be answering your questions because you aren’t going to keep doing this for no reason. And you know he has a reason; he isn’t doing this just for kicks.

“Are you listening?” He asks you suddenly.

Was he talking? “Yes?”

“What did I just say?” He looks at you pointedly, waiting for your wrong answer.

You look off to the side, trying to think hard about what he may have been saying, “…Something about how… this is important, and you want me to take it seriously?” you try, your face cringing as you finish your sentence.

He looks to you and sighs, “Essentially, yes.”

A proud smile breaks out across your face, “See? I was paying attention,” you tell him, nodding your head.

One of his brows raise at you slightly, he knows you didn’t hear a thing he was saying before. He comes up to you, both his hands reach up and hold your face between his hands, his eyes looking into your own intensely. “This is important, focus. Please?”

“I will… sorry,” you feel bad, his eyes are pleading with you to take this seriously, so you will.

He leans down and kisses your lips softly, “Thank you.”

You hum at him in acknowledgement, momentarily distracted by his kiss, wanting more of him.

“I just want you to know some self-defence, it will be basic, and I will help you,” he assures you.

You aren’t worried though, “Sounds good.”

He moves behind you, “Okay, I am going to grab you from behind, do what you think you should do and then I will show you the correct way to free yourself.”

“I am ready, just go for it,” you tell him, he’s obviously a bit nervous, he doesn’t want to upset you or make you uncomfortable.

His arms wrap around you, under your arms, normally you would try and slide down between his arms to get away but his hold under yours means you won’t get very far. Instead, you lean all the way down and pull his ankle forward, using your weight and his loss of balance to push him back. He goes down and you go with him. His hold on you lessens and you use the opportunity to get yourself free and stand back up, you’re looking down at him now.

He’s on the floor looking up to you, his eyes examining your own, “You have done this before.”

“I never said I hadn’t,” You reply, he squints at you, and you give him your hand to help him up, which he takes.

When he’s on his feet again he asks you, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why haven’t you told me why it’s so important I know self-defence?” You counter.

He sighs at you, “I want to know you can take care of yourself.”

“Yes but it’s one thing to be able to care of yourself and another to learn self-defence in case of bodily harm,” you emphasise, “This came out of left field, Liu and you know it. Something changed for you, and I want to know what it was.”

“My feelings for you changed, I want you near me, always. I want to be with you, to care for you, always… but I can’t be.” He’s frowning slightly.

You look at him dubiously, “And so your solution was teaching me how to defend myself in an attack?”

“No.” He answers quickly, “My solution is bringing you with me.”

“What?”

“The champions, will be gathered soon and I will be spending a lot of time at the academy… it’s selfish of me but I would like you to come with me, I would like to have you beside me and I would feel better about that if you could defend yourself.” He’s still frowning, clearly unimpressed with his own wants.

“I will go with you anywhere,” you tell him because you would, you would go anywhere, as long as he is beside you.

He reaches for you, both his hands resting on either of your shoulders, his expression charmed by you and your words, “I would like that.”

You smile tenderly at him, “You realise you’ve been kind of silly, keeping this from me?”

“Maybe but how long did you keep your feelings for me to yourself?” He retorts.

“Not the same,” you huff at him, “And you did the same thing,” you point out.

He hums at you, a hand lifting off your shoulder to hold the side of your face, gently cradling it, “I will fix it now then, I like you and would like you to stay by my side.”

“I suppose I will come with you,” you’re pretending to be apathetic, but his words make you so happy.

His eyes lift with his smile, “I need to know the extent of your self-defence training.”

“I know only the basics; I know how to evade an attacker and get myself free of a hold. I don’t know much else.”

“It is more than I thought,” he’s smiling brightly at you.

“What?” You are confused as to why he is so happy right now.

“It means I can teach you offensive attacks,” he informs.

You frown at him, “If I am going to be with you, do I really need to know how to attack someone?”

“It would make me feel better,” he replies, his thumb strokes your cheek.

Your tone is serious as you address him, “Liu, I don’t want to have to attack someone, I hope you know that.”

“I know and hopefully, you won’t but I’d like to know you could.” His expression is serious and so is his tone.

“You’re pushy,” you complain.

The side of his lips quirk up in a smile, “Only because I care.”

“You will not be teaching me any attacks today.” He opens his mouth to protest but you hold a finger up, “No, I have to think about it, attacking someone is different from defending yourself.” You’re looking at him firmly.

You aren’t one of his champions, you are not a fighter. You learnt self-defence out of concern for your own safety and well-being, learning to attack someone is something else entirely and you will have to think on whether or not you want to learn something like that.

“I would like you to consider it, but I understand,” he says before pulling you to him, holding you firmly. You can’t tell if he wants to comfort you or himself.

You sigh against him, “I will show you all I do know today, though.”

“I would like that,” he speaks into the top of your head.

So, you show him all you know. You spend a good amount of time showing him the different kinds of self-defence moves you know, and he helps you, teaching you better ways to do things or correcting your form. It is informative and you’re comfortable with him, his hands are warm, and they guide you.

His touch is innocent, his only intent is helping you show him what you know. He has no ulterior motives, and you realise that the teacher you had was definitely just creepy because this man you’ve slept with is holding you with the innocence of a man who has never seen you naked and has no desire to, his only desire is teaching you and seeing what you’re capable of.

“What is wrong?” Liu Kang asks.

Your face has betrayed your silent moment of realisation, a deep frown set in your eyebrows that you hadn’t noticed, “It’s nothing.” You smile at him, dropping the frown from your face.

He takes you in for a moment, determining if he should push you on this but lets it go, the both of you picking up where you left off. It isn’t until late morning, almost midday that you both stop.

“You know significantly more than I thought you would,” he says.

Looking to him, you reply, “I told you; I only know the basics.”

He makes a sound of amusement, “You know a bit more than the basics.”

You’re a tad shocked, “I do?”

“You do.” He confirms.

“How odd,” you comment.

“Come on, let’s walk back,” he grabs your hand and leads you back. The walk is quiet, and you enjoy the warmth of his large hand for most of it.

Beside you, he squeezes the hand he’s holding to get your attention, “Are you okay, with everything?”

“Yeah, I am okay.” You assure him.

He isn’t sure and tries to offer you an out, “I am being selfish by wanting you with me, you do not have to come.”

“I meant what I said, I would go anywhere with you,” you smile at him and lean into his side.

He hums from beside you, “Good.”

₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

He doesn’t stay long with you; he has to leave for the rest of the afternoon into the evening, but he said he would visit you later in the night if it isn’t too late. You had told him to come by even if it is late, but you don’t know if he will.

The tail end of the day is spent doing whatever you can, mostly though, you read the book Liu Kang gifted you. The notes he left are like reading his mind, they’re extensive and you’re wondering what you could do in return. Something kind that he’d like, something he can appreciate as much as you appreciate the book, but you don’t know what exactly that would be.

Looking to the clock on the wall, you can see the time has slipped by quickly, closer to midnight now. You peel yourself from your spot on the couch and move to lock the door before deciding against it, hoping Liu will stop by and let himself in.

Instead, you potter down the hall and slip into your bed, reflecting on things, head full of thoughts. The day had taken more out of you than you expected it to, you’re still a little stunned that you know self-defence well enough to impress Liu, though he didn’t think you knew any sort of defence, so his surprise is warranted.

You suppose you took those classes fairly regularly for a while and you enjoyed learning, so it shouldn’t shock you completely that you know it well. It’s a damn shame about that teacher though, you really hope he isn’t still teaching.

Thinking about that city fills you with a sense of melancholy, so many bad memories you left behind but also some good things too. You think, you’ll want to go back soon, to see the few friends you had there, maybe go back to that café with Liu.

The plushness of your bed is calling you, and you find yourself sinking back further into it, adjusting yourself so you’re completely content. The comfort of the bed has your eyes drooping, dozing off and drifting into a quiet slumber. Your dreams are empty, thoughts clear for once and you feel warm, comforted. It’s peaceful and you don’t remember the last time you’ve had such a tranquil sleep.

But then the warmth has you getting hot, body temperature rising uncomfortably. You can’t move and eventually your body wakes you up, startling yourself slightly. When you open your eyes, everything is dark and your mind is hazy from the sleep but with what little consciousness you do have, you realise what the cause of the heat was. Liu has crawled into bed behind you and pulled your body to his, his arms keeping you close but whatever he’s dreaming about has his powers a bit out of whack. You wonder how much time has passed and how long he’s been in bed next to you.

His skin is burning up and it’s unfortunately what woke you up, he was unintentionally overheating you while you both slept. Shuffling, you turn around in his hold and put a hand on his face, he’s very hot. He unconsciously pulls you closer to him, a hand wanders down to your hip and pulls you to him. Your front collides with his and, oh? You can see now why he’s burning up; his cock is solid against you.

A sigh leaves his mouth from slightly above you, his cock grinding into you lazily. The hand you have on his cheek quickly taps at his face to wake him; you’re surprised by his unconscious desperation, and you briefly wonder what he is dreaming about.

He wakes up at your touch on his face, his eyes bleary as he looks down to you, he hums in question at you; wordlessly asking why you woke him up.

“Uhm, you…” The words trail off, you can’t seem to find out how to phrase what you want to tell him and now your sleepy brain is needy for him.

Liu grunts at you, fully aware of his own situation now that he’s awake, “Did I wake you?” His words are mumbled, still half asleep.

Your brain is a few steps behind your mouth and your response is to mutter out, “You are hot.”

His eyes close again but his mouth rises into a lazy smile, “You think so?”

You take a second to think of your words first this time, “I mean, yes but you were literally hot, your heat woke me up.”

“You think I am hot,” he teases you, voice deep with sleep.

Sighing you ask him bluntly, “What were you dreaming of?”

One of his eyes open to look down at you, eyebrow raised, “Guess.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, you don’t like guessing games, “You sure you can’t just tell me?”

He doesn’t reply, his smile is sly.

He’s the one who was so worked up he almost burnt you in your sleep, “Are you sure you’re in a position to tease?” You enquire.

“And what do you mean by that?” You’ve caught his attention now.

“I mean, you are the needy one right now,” you observe.

“Hmmm, I may be needy,” He mocks your usage of the word, “but I will make you desperate,” his hand pulls your thigh over his hip, his hard cock pressing directly into your core; it makes you gasp. “Want me to show you what I was dreaming of?”

You fight the urge to grind yourself against his dick, not wanting to prove him right. You want to show that he is needier than you, at least tonight but with the way he holds your cunt firmly to his cock without so much as moving an inch, you think you might lose this battle. He’s so hard against you and you’re itching for him to move, to give you a fraction of relief but he’s only holding you, nothing more.

His gaze is unbothered, clearly, awake Liu Kang has far more control than asleep Liu Kang, “Answer me.”

You can feel yourself growing wetter the longer he holds you to him, you’re fighting against yourself. The urge to take what you need growing, but you doubt you would even get close to succeeding.

“Love your facial expression, do you know how desperate you already look for me?”

You look away and pout, “It’s not intentional…”

A finger hooks under your chin and makes your gaze meet his again, “It never is,” his tone is amused, “You wear all your thoughts on your face,” he comments.

“I want to know,” you answer his question from before, his brow raises and you clarify, “I want to know what you were dreaming about.”

“Are you sure?” He’s straight faced as he asks.

“Always.”

Suddenly, he rolls over and takes you with him, he sits you on his lap. You’re sitting on his cock and you’re trying so hard not to grind down into him, though you really would love nothing more than making him cum in his pants for you. He rips your underwear and sleep shorts off, the display of strength astounding to you. Instead of dropping them to the floor like a normal person though, he burns them, he burns your underwear and shorts to a crisp in front of you.

You’re shocked, “Wh– What the hell?”

“Next time, keep your bottom half bare,” he shrugs.

“Liu,” you’re still shocked, he might be a little bit more needier than he’s letting on.

“Yes?”

Your expression is stunned, “You could’ve just put them on the floor.”

“I could have, yes.” He confirms. “Can I stuff you full now? Or do you need another moment to scold me?”

You’re at a loss for words, torn between scolding him and wanting to be full of him. His face is unbothered, but his eyes are knowing, he knows what you will pick, and you really wish you were more spiteful, to teach him a lesson, but you want him inside you.

“Hmmm, I think…” his fingers slip to your pussy, sliding through your folds and spreading your slick all over yourself, “…You need me to fill you up right now,” his fingers are coated in your wetness when he removes them, he shows them to you before pushing them into your mouth.

Your lips wrap around his fingers and suck, cleaning them of yourself. Liu grunts at the feeling of your tongue licking at them, his eyes carefully watching the way your lips are engulfing his large fingers. His gaze is far away as he watches the way he pulls them out of your mouth, obsessing over your mouth, over your lips.

His focus comes back, and he frowns, his hands pull your shirt up and off you quickly; the action surprises you. Gathering yourself, you say, “Do not burn it!”

The expression he wears is amused and for a moment he looks like he’s considering burning it in front of you, just to see your reaction. He ultimately decides against it and chucks it on the floor, something he could have done to your shorts and underwear.

“Pleased?” He asks, raising a brow at you.

“As much as I can be after you’ve…” your retort trails off because he has completely ignored you, pulling his cock out of his pants as you were speaking.

And as you look at his big dick, you’re struck, completely wordless and salivating as you look at it and the way his hand grips himself. His thumb rubs over the tip of his cock, he must’ve been having one hell of a dream because he is incredibly hard and slick. His own precum dribbling from the head of his cock in thick globs, his thumb spreads it all over himself, hand dragging it down over his length.

His cock is shiny and coated in his own mess, you’re practically drooling, your cunt throbbing with your overwhelming need for him, “Liu,” your voice is breathy as you call out his name and it makes his cock jump in his hand.

Your hand reaches out to replace his own, holding him firmly but gently, you stroke up and down his length. Your movements spread more of his precum over his large cock, your thumb rubs at his tip, smearing it all over. His breaths are picking up, his hips twitching, holding back from fucking into your hand. His eyes are shut, savouring the feeling of your softer and smaller hand on him.

“Put. It. In,” he hisses out between clenched teeth, “Or I will.”

You hesitate, finding it an opportune time to tease him, “Why? Are you getting needy?” Your voice singsongs to him, full of mirth.

His eyes flick back open to look at you, his gaze dark and hungry and you feel like maybe, you did not have the upper hand you thought you had. Now, you think, he was maybe indulging you. His finger moves to your core, spreading your slick all over yourself again.

He avoids your clit and lightly pushes the tip of a finger into your pussy hole, only to drag it out and play with your cunt by smearing your arousal all over yourself. The action has your hand pulling back from his cock, grabbing at his wrist, holding onto him. He is working you up purposefully, not giving you any real pleasure. And it really does feel like a punishment because you already wanted him.

You go to ask him for more, “Can you–”

“–Shhh,” he cuts you off, not giving you the chance to request more from him, “You think I am needier than you?”

You don’t answer but your lack of a response is still a response.

“Hmmm, I will remind you of how fun you are to play with, how desperate you get for me,” his fingers still slide through your slick cunt. “How easy it is to have you cumming for me.”

Your pussy clenches down on emptiness, wanting so bad to be full of him. Wanting him to stop teasing you and force his cock inside your very wet cunt but you made a miss step, mistaking his directions for a moment of weakness. And while you were right about his need, he’s certainly not going to give up the control that easily.

God, you just need him to stop being so cruel, his cock is thick and heavy and slick, oozing precum still, but he’s not willing to give you the satisfaction, not now, not after your taunt.

“Liu, please– I… want you,” his fingers still avoid your clit, only really making a mess and not giving you any satisfactory pleasure, you feel like you might shed a tear.

He hums in thought at you, his gaze on your cunt and his fingers, “You want me?”

As you go to answer, his fingers slip over your clit, rubbing tight circles into it very suddenly. Your body collapses forward, hands coming out and landing on his chest to hold yourself up. He chuckles at your reaction, at the way you’re already borderline shaking on top of him. His fingers are relentless, and he was right because you’re already right on the edge and just as you think he might push you off it, he pulls his hand back. It lands on your hip, fingers wet and sticky from your cunt.

They drum against your skin, “You were saying?”

You glare at him, your voice shakes, “That was mean.”

He only smiles politely at you, his expression easy, unbothered by seemingly, everything. He’s waiting for you to speak, and you know exactly what he wants to hear but you only purse your lips and stare at him.

He tuts in response to your defiance, “Got to ask for the things you want, love.”

You pout, “I want you.”

“I am right here,” he retorts, the hand on your hip slides up the side of your body, landing on your tit.

His free hand comes up and grabs at your other tit, he fondles your chest, his hold firm. The way he’s groping you is driving you up a wall and his cock jumps against his abdomen at the way you whine for him. His index and middle fingers pinch your nipples between them as he grabs at you and another pitiful whine comes from you. He releases a mix between a sigh and groan at the sound, obviously struggling with his desire for you.

Your eyes are big and pitiful when you look to his, “Liu, please, I want you inside–”

“–Not what I want to hear,” he cuts you off, eyes stern as he looks at you.

Leaning forward, he presses his lips to your neck, your hands move from his chest to hold onto his shoulders, and you’re surprised at how hot he has gotten again. His body temperature increasing with the way he’s restraining himself; his mouth sucks a mark into your neck and his tongue is hot as it licks at your skin.

His hands grip your hips and pull you closer to him again, his mouth sucking marks into your neck, your chest. He’s working his way down, leaving hot and wet marks against your skin everywhere his lips go. Once he’s reached your breasts, he takes a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking at it, the warmth of his mouth makes you twitch on top of him, a gasped whine exiting your lungs at his ministrations.

He pulls back but bites at your nipple lightly as he does, it makes you jump and gasp, “Liu, please…” He makes a noncommittal noise, still not hearing what he wants from you.

The grip he has on your hips moves to your thighs, he’s grabbing at your skin, enjoying the softness of your thighs, his hands are hot on your delicate skin, and you squirm in his lap. His gaze locks onto your thighs, and you think you know what he wants, probably wants to leave marks on them.

After he gets an eyeful, his eyes look to your cunt, your slick dripping down your thighs with how little he’s given you. So horny for him and he’s done nothing but edge you once and fondle you. One of his hands slips from your thigh to your pussy, fingers immediately massaging your clit, you’re so worked up that you moan at the slight touch. His other hand grips harshly at your thigh, grounding himself.

“You are so wet,” he observes, his fingers still rubbing your clit, “Why don’t you end your suffering and tell me what I want to hear?”

Your response isn’t much of a response at all, only a small broken whimper passing your lips. The pathetic sound has Liu’s abs tightening, his cock twitching, the heat he’s radiating increasing, obviously he’s torturing himself at the moment. He looks delicious and as much as you’d love to see how much it’d take to break him; you don’t think you would survive it.

“I need you, please,” you break for him, eyes pleading, wet and almost crying, so close to finishing and wanting him to let you. He doesn’t reply though, and it worries you, so you beg, “please, Liu –nngh– need you to– I–” You’re incoherent and your voice is whiney but when you look into his eyes, fuck. He looks… feral.

His hand speeds up for you, his grip on your thigh loosens just the smallest amount, enough so you can grind down onto him a bit. You’re leaking down his hand, down his wrist, your nails dig into his shoulders and right as you’re about to cum again, he pulls his hand away… again.

The sound you release is a borderline sob, your pussy is throbbing with need, and you’re so confused as to why he didn’t let you cum. Your eyes fill with unshed tears as you look at him, your voice is small when you ask, “Why?”

He wears a large smile on his face, eyes still feral but he seems to have found a new kind of resolve, “Something wrong?”

You’re speechless, are you still being punished? Why didn’t he let you cum, did you not give in to him? “What did I do wrong?” Your brows are pulled up, worried.

“Nothing, you have been perfect,” he smiles assuredly at you, but his expression has an underlying wicked hunger. He taps your thigh, so you hold yourself up, “I’m going to stuff you full now,” he informs you and at his words you hold yourself up for him.

You don’t want to get your hopes up, now feeling like his show of mercy will come with conditions but you are really hoping he will fill your cunt. He grips his cock in his hand, pulling you closer to him, when you’re in reach, he rubs the messy tip of himself through your folds. The pair of you already a mess in your own rights, the action mixing the two together.

“Take the tip,” he directs, voice firm, warning you to only take the tip of him.

“Yessir,” you murmur in response as a joke, but his dick twitches the smallest bit in his hold.

For your own sanity, you don’t tease him for it, fearing you may not survive anymore edging. You do as you’re told, lowering yourself onto his cock and taking only the tip of him, with how wet you both are, it’s an easy fit. You take his tip well, but you are slightly concerned with taking the rest of him; right now, you think, if he slammed up into you all at once, you’d cum on his dick alone.

Your thighs are burning slightly at how you’re having to hold yourself up, trying not to take anymore of him. He’s breathing heavily, his skin getting hotter again, his hands move to your thighs and grip them, pulling at the supple flesh. Your pussy is pulsing around the tip of him and he’s doing everything he can to hold back, having a specific plan for how he wants to fuck you tonight and doesn’t want to ruin it by losing control here.

His thumb slips to your clit and rubs into it, flicking at it, it makes you moan and has you itching to sit down on him. Wanting to feel completely stuffed full, “Liu, I want –nghh– I want all of you.”

“That’s too bad because I want you to do as I say,” he replies harshly, voice hissed between his clenched teeth. His commanding voice and the attention he’s giving your clit makes you clench down on him, he continues talking, “I want you to cum, that’s what I want.”

Something about him tonight is driving you crazy and you were already so close to cumming before he spoke but now, after hearing him tell you what he wants, you’re a split second away from cumming. The final straw is when you look down to where you’re taking just the tip of him, your own arousal sliding down the sides of his cock, the mess is obscene, and it makes you cry out.

Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders again, needing the leverage as you cum on him. The feeling of your walls fluttering on the head of his cock makes him groan, loudly. His head falls back on the headboard and his eyes close, needing a moment to recover before making his next move.

The breaths you release are huffed; he’s finally let you cum and it makes your previously unshed tears slip down your cheeks. The relief you feel is euphoric, your head dizzy with how good it felt. He only edged you twice and you just about lost your mind, if he ever tries to do that properly, he might kill you. Or drive you actually insane.

He opens his eyes to look at you, “Crying over the tip of my cock?” His tone is cocky, knowing he’s pulling you apart so well.

“No,” you lie, a hand moving off him to wipe at your cheeks but one of his own hands stop you, grabbing your wrist.

“Leave it, you look cute, crying over my dick,” he muses aloud to you.

You look at him sceptically but don’t wipe your face all the same, letting him have his way. When he’s sure you won’t wipe your face, he drops your hand.

“Sit down,” he says, “Take it all, for me.”

You feel yourself flutter with excitement, looking forward to finally being full of him. You slide down his length, taking more of him, slowly as you do. The stretch of him is delicious and you think, even if it hurt, you wouldn’t stop, your need for him outweighing any pain. You want him in you, want his pelvis grinding into your clit, need, you need his pelvis grinding into your clit.

The both of you are so slick and sticky the sounds can already be heard in the room, a soft squelching as your cunt sinks down on him. His hands hold your hips, helping guide you down onto him fully, you’re taking your time, wanting to be careful. Your hands move to his pecs, open palms splayed on his chest, there’s heat radiating from him, hotter now than when he almost overheated you in your sleep.

“You’re –nngh– really h–hot, Liu,” you tell him, concerned by it.

He smiles at you suggestively, and if you weren’t still trying to take all of his cock, you would roll your eyes at him. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he reassures you, knowing you are worrying for him and his wellbeing, even with his cock a few inches in you.

He’s getting impatient at how long it’s taking you to get all of him inside you, his frustration reaching a head. Instead, he takes control and shoves you down on him, filling you all at once, the shock of it, of being so full suddenly, the slap of his pelvis against your clit, it makes you cum on him very suddenly. Small whimpers falling from your lips, your hips unconsciously keep grinding into him, riding out the high. Your cunt clenching down on him, hard, with your orgasm.

A guttural groan comes from Liu, you can feel it rumble in his chest under your hands, “That’s it– mmph– love how easy you cum for me–” he sighs out, relishing in the way you’re gripping his fat cock.

Your hips come to halt, done grinding down into him but his hands on you keep moving you against him. Encouraging you to keep grinding, it makes your stomach do flips, barely even coming down from your high before he’s trying to get you to cum again.

“It’s too much–”

“–I thought you needed it,” he counters.

You shudder against him, already on the edge so quickly after your last orgasm. You try to tell him how it feels, how it’s so overwhelming. Having his cock grinding so deeply inside you, having your clit drag against his pelvis, it’s so much. But nothing leaves you, nothing but a few more tears and small whimpers.

His expression as he watches you is sure; he knows what he’s doing, and he knows what he wants from you. You play right into his hand, and nothing brings him more joy than that, “You want to know what I need?” He asks you.

You shake your head at him, not really paying attention.

“I need you to cum again,” he tells you and he’s serious, his hands grip you harder and drag you against him firmer.

The added pressure has you cumming on him again, your cunt squeezing him tightly as you cream around him, again. He moans pleasurably, overjoyed at you doing as he says and at the way your cunt cums messily around him. He twitches inside you, sensitive and needy for you but having too much fun playing with you to stop.

Even as your body jolts from overstimulation, he doesn’t stop dragging you against him, still forcing your hips to grind down, “Liu, I need a moment–”

“–No, you don’t.”

With the way he’s filling you completely and the stimulation on your clit, he’s going to kill you, or have you passing out on his cock. Your arms struggle to keep yourself up, shaking against his chest. One of his hands leave your hips to pull you to him, your bare chest pressed to his own. He’s so hot.

How he’s holding you now, he leans back slightly, feet planting on the bed. Using his leverage to grind up into you as he forces you down on him, it has you moaning into his skin. The hand on your back slides up and grabs at the back of your neck, holding you to him.

“I know you’re already close again,” his voice is breaking, holding back his own sounds of pleasure until they only come out as whiney breaths.

You whinge against him, “I can’t–”

“–You can, and you will.”

His skin is so warm, so firm, all his muscles moving against you. His large cock fills you so well and you want him to actually fuck you, but you’re concerned you might not be able to take it. You’re drooling on his skin now, just from his incessant grinding, the thought of him actually fucking you has your cunt clenching and brain short circuiting.

“Come on, love–” his words are cut off by his own gasp, you’ve cum at the sound of his voice. It’s low but pitched with need and he sounds so fucking good that you cum on the spot, your pussy choking his dick harshly.

He groans at the way you grip him; his hands stop dragging you down onto him, but his hips chase yours, his own desperation showing in the way he’s rutting against you. His arms wrap around you, holding you to him tightly. He keeps grinding up into you and it makes you whine into his neck.

He’s breathing heavily next to your ear, borderline whimpering at the way you wrap so tightly around him, at the way you came so nicely for him.

“Liu, you –hah– feel too good –mmph– too much,” you mumble against his skin, his shoulder wet from where you’ve been drooling against him.

“–Hah– I am not even close to done with you yet,” he huffs in response, his hips still grinding up into you. With how he’s holding you, you have no choice but to take what he gives and what he’s giving right now is desperate grinding, still not fucking into you properly.

He moves his face into your neck and licks at the length of it, it makes you shudder against him, "Last one, and then –mmm– I’ll fuck you.”

You’re dazed as you check with him, “Promise?”

He hums at you, “Promise.”

His hips keep grinding up into you, his hand on your hip encouraging you to do the same, wanting you to finish for him. Your body is tired, but you rut down against him, it makes him hiss and then he bites your neck. The sounds he would have made muffled by his teeth in your skin, the feeling has your cunt spasming on him.

He pulls his mouth back from you just to lick and suck at your skin and then he’s biting your shoulder. The small pain driving you up a wall, it makes your pussy leak for him, your breaths are stuttered and you’re going to cum again.

He mumbles against your skin before pulling back a bit so you can hear him, “The way you’re gripping me, fuck–” He’s about to moan but instead bites your neck again, harder this time. The shock of the pain goes straight to your cunt and you cum on him, again.

You’re lucky he’s already pressed you completely to him because you would’ve collapsed onto him. Whines and whimpers are pulled from your chest, more tears slip down your cheeks and you feel so far away from your body, you don’t even feel like you’re on Earth anymore.

Liu is groaning into your skin, he pulls back and lathes over his bite mark with his tongue and when he looks at it, he hums in contentment. Pleased with the impression of his teeth in your soft skin. His hips have stopped grinding up into you, giving you a needed break, you’re slumped against him, breathing heavily.

“Been doing so good for me,” he compliments. You can only hum in response to him, you’re out of it.

He lets you catch your breath; his hands stroke up and down your back, his lips press kisses into your skin, over the bite marks he’s left. He’s giving you a quiet moment to gather yourself and you really appreciate it because at this point, you don’t even know how many orgasms he’s given you, but your body does and you’re feeling fucked out.

Once your breathing is normal, you tell him, “You’re going to kill me.”

He chuckles at you lightly, amused, “No, I’m not.” He pulls your head back so he can press his lips to yours, taking away any chance of you disputing him.

The kiss is kind and tender and a stark difference to how he’s just pulled multiple orgasms from you. He kisses you softly, his tongue slips into your mouth, and you melt against him. Your thighs spreading open further on him unconsciously, it has his cock inching just the tiniest bit more inside you and it makes you moan into the kiss.

He grunts against you; his hands grip at your hips. His body heat is still hot, he’s itching to fuck you but being as patient as he can be. When he pulls back from the kiss, he nips your lip lightly and it makes you gasp. He only smiles easily at you when you glare at him for it.

“Need you to move, want you on your hands and knees for me,” he taps your thigh, and you start pulling up, it has you releasing gasped whines. Just as you’re at the tip of him, his hands hold you on him, “Look at the mess you’ve made on me,” he practically growls out the words.

When you look down, the mess is obscene, so much of your cum coats his cock. Creamy ring at the base of him, you look to Liu but he’s looking at his cock and how messy it is. His dick jerks at the image, his hands hot on your hips.

“You are such a messy little thing, love the way you cum for me, so fucking easy to have you creaming on me, fuck–” he closes his eyes for a moment, he’s working himself up. He takes a breath and looks at you, eyes dark, “Hands and knees.”

Taking the hint, you pull yourself off him completely and shuffle around on the bed. You face the headboard and sit back on your knees, feeling a bit embarrassed at arching your back for him and hesitating to do so. He gets off the bed and stands up, removing his pants properly. He moves to the foot of the bed and points in front of himself, giving you wordless instructions.

You do as he indicates and move in front of him, he tells you, “Hands, knees,” and makes a spinning motion with his hand, instructing you to turn your back to him.

Turning around, you lean onto your hands, you feel sheepish as you do. Liu’s hand pushes your upper back down until your chest is on the bed, his other hand pushes your thighs open for him. You arch your back for him, your ass and cunt on full display. When he pulls away to look at you, he groans.

His hands play with the globes of your ass, pulling them apart and staring at your pussy, “Perfect, stay like this.”

Faintly, you can hear shuffling from behind you, you aren’t sure what he’s doing. But it shocks you when Liu drives his cock into you all at once, your body jolts forward and you moan. Liu curses lowly at the feel of you around him again. His curses are hissed and breathy, and he holds his hips to your ass for a moment, collecting himself.

Once he’s taken a second, he pulls out of you and forces himself back in. His initial choice in pace is already so devastating, his thrusts are harsh, stuffing his cock into you with each one. All you can do is take it though, so you do, because as overstimulated as you are, the way he’s finally fucking you has you feeling so blissed out, you wouldn’t rather be doing anything else.

He fucks into you so deep the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, your moans are pitiful, almost whimpers from how well he fills you, from how well he fucks you. He has you seeing stars and you would be embarrassed at how close you are to cumming on him again, but it feels so good, and you’ve been far gone ever since he stuck his dick in you completely the first time.

Liu’s moans flow more freely from him like this, letting himself indulge after robbing himself of the pleasure he desperately wanted from you. He was torturing you before sure, but he was also balls deep in your tight cunt, not doing anything but grind into you, his self-restraint is godly, and he thanks all that is good for it because he really does love making you coat his dick in your cum. He loved having you cry for him, overstimulated and needy, he’s going to cum at just the thought of it if he’s not careful.

Your moans hit a higher pitch and his thrusts pick up pace, knowing you’re close and still wanting another couple orgasms from you before he finally fills you with his cum. His hands on your hips fuck you back onto him as he thrusts forwards and you’re clenching down on him, a small pathetic whimper exiting you as you cum on him.

If you hadn’t already been arched the way you are, your arms would have given out and had you face planting into the bed below. Instead, you whimper at your unknown numbered orgasm and drool into the sheets. Mind swimming with thoughts of him, of his large hands, how hot they are against your skin, about the thick drag of his heavy cock against your walls, how easily he pushes you off the edge, so sure in his actions, so sure you’ll cum for him when he wants it.

Your pussy throbs around him, he grunts but doesn’t stop fucking you, he own need overwhelming him, his spoken thoughts not all that coherent anymore, “G –hah– you feel so fucki– feel so divine –nngh– mm going t– hah– to fuck all my cum inside you, fill up your –nngh– tight little –fuck– cunt,” his breaths are whiney, and his head is lost in the feel of you.

His hand reaches around your front to rub at your clit, the stimulation has you shrieking and trying to crawl away from him, “Liu– I –hah– can’t please–”

You keep trying to crawl up the bed away from him, but he pulls you right back with no effort, “Yes you can– I need you to –hah– fuck–”

He holds you back easily, you have no chance to escape his punishing thrusts and relentless fingers. He’s still mumbling nonsense but not only is he barely coherent, but your thoughts are barely coherent, all the blood rushing to your head. You can’t understand what he’s saying but it’s a mix between praises and curses.

His fingers don’t stop and you cum on him, he’s effortlessly pulled another orgasm from you, and it makes your moan border on a yelp. Tears flow down your cheeks onto the bed sheets, you’re so sensitive now, your mind so far gone. He’s growling behind you at the way you pulse around him, the noises he makes barely human.

His hands are so hot on you, his skin burning up, he grabs both of your hands and pulls them back. Using you as leverage to fuck into you, he’s also making sure you can’t try and crawl away from him. His thrusts are wild, the wet noises in the room are so obscene, you think you’d die of shame if you had even half your wits about you.

You’ve heard the phrase fucked dumb and you thought you had been fucked dumb, last time Liu fucked you, but this is insane. He’s going to send you to an early grave, and you don’t even care, not with how delicious he sounds, the moans and grunts he’s letting out have you ascending to a higher plane.

His grip on your wrists are firm but he drops them and grabs your hips again, just to pull you back, your legs drop to the floor in front of him. Lucky he’s holding you up because you are not capable of it at the moment. Your front half is still pressed completely into the bed, Liu holds your lower half up, your tippy toes just barely grazing the floor. His dick is hitting everything inside you that has you folding in on yourself and insides twisting, he might make you cum again, you’re going to need some kind of higher being to take mercy on you because you are fucked.

He's animalistic behind you, focusing on his own high, at least you thought he was, but his hand reaches for your clit again and you try to squirm away from him. You are unsuccessful, you’re so weak and he’s got you in the palm of his hand and he knows it. You can’t even verbally protest, only wiggle and whine below him.

“Want you to –hah– fuck– I need you to squirt for me,” his voice is deep, laced with so much hunger.

You try to tell him, “I don –ah– ’t th –mmph– ink I–”

“You can.” He’s steadfast, certain you can and that he will make you.

His fingers slip over your clit, everything is so slick, both your lower halves slippery from all your orgasms. He’s not gentle, his thrusts are harsh, and his fingers are determined, his cock is bullying its way into your cunt, hitting so deeply inside you, you go cross eyed.

The build-up is making you crazy, everything he does is pulling you apart by the very fibre of your being. Your cunt is clenching down on him like a vice, the pleasure feels like too much and you squirm against him, trying to get away again. Nonsensical words fall from your lips trying to warn him, but he only laughs deeply at your attempts at evasion; he’s happy he’s getting what he wants. A particularly deep thrust sends you over the edge, you cum… everywhere.

Liu groans at the sight of you squirting for him, on him, his thrusts don’t slow, if anything, they speed up. Chasing his own high now, so ready to fill you to the brim with his cum. He’s trying very hard to keep his powers under control, not wanting to burn you but his hands are hot against you and the closer he gets to his high, the less control he has over himself.

You’re crying from the pleasure, it’s been so intense, you don’t even feel like a person anymore. You can’t even moan, the noises you make are small whines and cries. Liu is obsessing over how your cunt swallows his cock, how well you take him. He’s also enjoying the small sounds you’re making, his ego inflated hugely tonight.

Everything about you right now has Liu just about losing his mind, the sounds he lets out are wild and unrestrained. All you can do is take it and wait for him to finish, and you really want him to finish. You want to hear him cum, want to feel him twitch inside you as he finishes.

You clamp down on him harshly, the sudden tightness of your cunt has Liu keeling over slightly, moans breaking off into whimpers as he fucks his cum into you. His hands burn you and he fucks your hips down against the bed so it holds you up, wanting to remove his hands as quick as he can.

He grabs at the footboard of the bed, the wood smouldering under his hands, he’s burning his handprints into the wood. He humps into you for a while, riding out his high, rutting into you to keep his cum inside your pussy. You’re pressed to the bed, completely absent.

When he’s gathered some control back, he leans down over you, “Are you okay?”

“I– I think so,” you slur out, mouth mostly pressed into the mattress.

He hums and slowly pulls his cock from you, he takes a moment to watch his cum leak from you, wanting so badly to stuff it back in but knowing you’re already so sensitive and he doesn’t want to push you.

“Did I go too far?” He asks, scared he’s broken you.

“Mm good,” you singsong out, shakily giving him a thumbs up, “Worth it.”

He scoffs at you in amusement, eyes tracing over your fucked out body, landing on the light burns he’s left on your hips. Red handprints left behind; the sight has his ego inflating but he also feels guilty.

“Need to give you a cold shower,” he comments.

You murmur out to him, “Bit late for that.”

“For the burns,” he clarifies.

“Hmm?” You didn’t think they were that bad, you remember him being hot, not burning you. Getting up slowly and with Liu’s help, you twist to look at your hips, “Well, I’ll be.” You smile stupid at the burns, “I like ‘em.” You say before flopping back onto the bed.

“Need to run them under cool water,” he presses you.

You only groan at him, “Can’t move.”

He sighs at you and picks you up, carrying you to your bathroom. He has to hold you up in the shower but he’s happy to. Your legs are like jelly and you’re barely conscious.

You remember why this happened and ask him, “As good as your dream?”

“So much better,” he kisses your cheek, “In my dream, you only came a couple times, this was way better.”

You gape at him, “What?”

He just smiles happily at you, pleased with himself.

₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

A/N: THANK YOU FOR READING!!! I know it took me way longer than usual and I really appreciate all of you <33 As always, if you have any thoughts, questions, requests, my inbox is open ! P.S. the discord server got snippets of this way more and were updated more frequently, if you’d like to join send me a dm :))))

#liu kang x reader #liu kang x reader smut #liu kang x you smut #liu kang x you #mk1 smut #smut #fanfic #liu kang #liu kang smut

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flawdchaos · 3 months

Text

Opposites Do Attract

Gale ‘Buck’ Cleven x Reader

Word Count - 915

Based off of this request - Can I request a Buck x reader, where the reader is very extroverted, maybe even the opposite of Buck, but they fit so well together. They could be going out for drinks or her meeting the boys or something similar.

Anyone who met Buck Cleven and Y/N Y/L/N at Thorpe Abbotts shared a common thought - they were an unexpected pair. It had become all too common for the newcomers to assume Y/N was with Bucky with her loud, bubbly energy and it almost seemed brash for cool, calm, collected Buck to be with Ken Lemmons loudest female mechanic but damn, did it work. They had met one morning as Y/N was going over some last minute inspections on Buck’s plane for his daily missions.

“How’s she looking, ma’am?” his voice startled her, her head hitting against the plane’s metal.

“Good lord!” she exclaimed. “Give a girl a warning before you sneak up like that.” she complained, rubbing the back of her head. She fully stepped from under the plane's wings and caught a glimpse of the man behind the voice. Her eyes widened once she noticed a Major was standing before her awaiting her response. “Major Cleven” right hand flying to her forehead to salute “Plane is all ready, sir.”

“No need to salute, ma’am. Thank you for taking such good care of her. I put her through hell.” Buck spoke as he opened the plane’s hatch to stow his bag and she couldn’t stop the scoff that left her mouth. “I think that’s an understatement, sir.”

Most of the guys probably wouldn’t have taken this kind of attitude, per se, from a mechanic - let alone a woman- but he couldn’t care less. The sight of her almost made him want to laugh. There she stood, hip jutted out and hand secured atop it, eyes squinting up at him most likely awaiting some sort of angry remark but all he could do was shuffle the toothpick around in his mouth and nod in agreement. “I’ll be waiting to fix her right back up for ya later, Major.”

The couple had been sealed since. When Buck finally caved and spilled the beans about a woman to Bucky, he thought John was going to have a medical emergency right there in the mess hall.

“You have a woman and you just now think to bring it up?” Bucky said, astonished. “I didn’t want you to scare her away.” Buck quipped. If he only knew.

“Well.” Bucky clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder. “When am I gonna meet this mysterious young lady?” he urged, squeezing his hands down before an idea crossed his mind “Bring her to the pub tomorrow!”

______

If Buck could have taken a picture of the looks on the boys’ faces when he walked in with Y/N on his arm, he would have framed it and taken it with him on every flight he ventured out on. “Well I’ll be damned, Buck.” Bucky uttered, for once in his life he was almost speechless. Almost.

“I’d suggest you pick your jaw up off the floor, Major. I’d sure hate for you to swallow a bug.” She teased and the entire table erupted in laughter. Buck couldn’t help the small smile that broke out on his own face, a sense of pride soaring through his body. Bucky took a long swig of his drink before retorting. “Seems you’ve got yourself a jokester, Buck.” He nodded. “She’s a little more than that.”

“Wait, ain’t you the girl who works with Lemmons?” Blakely spoke, realization washing over the faces of a few of the men. “Yeah! You’re the girl who fixed my landing gear the other day.” Brady sat up, pointing at the girl standing firm besides Buck.

“You’re welcome by the way.” she waved her hand towards him. “Actually, everyone is welcome. You can thank me for getting you up in the air in the first place. Now I’m getting a drink. Keep the gossip to a minimum while I’m gone, now.” She turned, patting Buck on the chest. “You want something, baby?” looking up at her doe eyed boyfriend. “Just a Coke for me, honey.” She jokingly saluted, walking off towards the bar.

____

Buck had full confidence Y/N would fit in with his crew of men. Whether most of them had realized it before or not, she was the sole reason they were able to make it off the ground in the first place. He couldn’t help but say it almost made his heart swell with pride watching her interact with his friends. “Should I sing?” Bucky’s voice broke through his train of thought, hands tapping against his arm chair. There wasn’t time for him to protest before Y/N jumped up from her place on his lap. “Let’s go, Bucky!” Y/N’s laughed.

He couldn’t explain the feeling that was coursing through his body but as he watched his best friend - more so a brother at this point - and his newfound love sharing a laugh together over the less than perfect singing, he only grew more confident in his relationship. Many would describe Buck Cleven as a many of very little words but if anyone asked about Y/N, his Y/N, he didn’t think there were enough words in the dictionary to explain just how he felt.

Once the song stopped and the singing duo had left the stage, Buck watched as Y/N headed to the bar and Bucky made his way back to him.

“Buck, I gotta say -“ pausing to take a drink of his whisky. “You’ve found yourself a keeper. You two couldn’t be any more opposite but man, does it work.”

#masters of the air #masters of the air x reader #anthony boyle #gale cleven #john egan #masters of the air imagines #robert rosenthal #rosie rosenthal #gale cleven x reader #buck cleven x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader

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faetreides · 2 months

Text

oreo tiger milk tea

cw: afab reader, suggestive content (18+ mdni): strap mentions and implied cunnilingus, ooc soft!tashi (she cares about you more than tennis), don’t think too hard about this

you hum and stir the shrimp, trying to remember how long you need to cook them for. you think the recipe said 4 minutes, so you shrug and hope for the best.

the giant flatscreen tv in your living room drones on in the background, you’re just waiting for tashi’s taped interview. her match already ended, you’re still heartbroken that you couldn’t be there but you cheered her on from your brand new sectional.

“yeah, my partner has been such a huge supporter. I’m so grateful to have them, and all my fans.” she says, blowing a kiss towards the camera.

it’s a run of the mill media response, but it gives you butterflies nonetheless.

you smile down at the sizzling shrimp like an idiot, taking it out and arranging them on the two bowls of rice on the table.

your legs are still sore and it takes everything in you to make it to your chair in one piece. tashi likes to joke that fucking you with her strap is all the work out she needs, that and smothering your face with her pussy. she didn’t keep you up as late last night, knowing that she had to be back on an emergency flight soon.

“hey, babe, what are you watching?” she teases as she peeks around the corner, having changed out of her airport clothes into sweats.

you grin and tilt your head up for a kiss, “my gorgeous wife’s interview, obviously.”

she rolls her eyes fondly, giving you your kiss. it’s slow and drawn out, her trip wasn’t long enough to call for a messy fight with teeth. plus, all the “home videos” tashi keeps on her phone are the perfect solution to be away from each other and horny.

“we’re not even married yet, stupid.”

“and what if I said that I'm pregnant with your baby?”

tashi gives you the most loving ‘what the fuck are you high on’ look, “then i’d say that i’m suprised it took this long.”

“so no shotgun wedding?” you pout, trying your hardest not to burst out laughing.

“don’t act like you don’t want a big wedding, you big baby.” she grins and pecks the tip of your nose.

you beam back at her and shrug, pulling her by the wrists to come sit down at the table next to you. you’re still so awestruck by the fact that you’re living in a multi million dollar home with your superstar fiancé.

the shrimp and rice is devoured with numerous compliments to the chef. tashi takes her sweet time wiping her (and your) face clean and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. you can’t help but let your eyes fall to her ass as she walks away.

“nice ass, Tash’ ” you say as you come up behind her and wind your arms around her torso.

you take a moment to sway in the kitchen, absorbing the faint traces of shower water and left over sweat under her orange and jasmine perfume.

“yours is nicer.” she hums, grinding back against you in languid circles.

“if you say so.”

“i do say so.”

your underwear is cutting it close to getting damp, sue you for being weak for your beautiful woman. the teasing rhythm doesn’t even phase you, you slide your fingers along the soft fabric covering her hips and pull her closer. it doesn’t escalate into frenzied dry humping, the warmth and unhurried friction of her ass cheeks against your mound is intoixcating enough.

you do her a favor and close the dishwasher. she casts a look over her shoulder, challenging you to make a move. you smirk and pick her up by her thighs, pushing her to jump up on the counter.

tashi lays down with the most smug smile a person could possibly wear, “you just cleaned the counters, baby, you better not make a mess.”

you stick your tongue out, pulling her pants down and getting close enough to tear her panties off with your teeth. she spreads her legs, giving you a clear view of her pussy. you gently blow air onto her clit and she sighs, rolling her shoulders back.

“yeah yeah, tash’. i’ll get it all in my mouth this time, i swear”.

because you know if you do, she’ll be taking YOUR strap.

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icequeenbae · 9 months

Text

Translucence (m) | Astro LDM

Pairing: Cha Eunwoo x Reader (Lee Dongmin x Reader)

A Jinjin cameo? hehe

Established Relationship, slice of life, fluff, PWP, smut

Warnings: glass bathroom you heard me lol, explicit content, unprotected sex, this is smut with minimal plot (it’s becoming my style), a sprinkle of voyeurism, maybe a noona kink, maybe Dongmin's splendid ass is mentioned more than once

Word Count: ~4.2k

Author’s Note: Heyyy~ Finally posting my first ASTRO fic! This has been waiting to be released for a while now, but the timing wasn’t working out… But now that it’s done, I hope that you enjoy this little story! Let me know what you think~ And a special thank you to the lovely @the-boy-meets-evil for looking over my story, I really loved your comments, Jess <3

Summary: It’s your first short vacation with Dongmin since you started dating, and you get a chance to stay at an extremely fancy hotel in Jeju. The ocean-view suite is perfect, yet there’s a small inconvenience… or a genius design?

Network tags: @superm-net @exo-writers-net @bbh-net @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

It was your first time taking a vacation together.

With the type of hectic schedule Dongmin had to maintain, you barely managed to book the hotel of your dreams for this weekend, which was actually your one-year anniversary. Two days was all you had, and you planned to enjoy them to the fullest, start to finish.

Which was why you’d surprised your boyfriend by appearing clad in a white sundress with a stylish wide brim hat to match. It was a simple feminine look, yet it set the mood from the start.

‘Wow, I’m suddenly looking forward to our flight…’ He smiled at you softly before murmuring, ‘You look beautiful.’

Avoiding his eyes timidly, you chewed on your lip to contain a silly grin. Dongmin took the handle of your suitcase to put it away in the trunk of the car.

‘Let’s get going, we have to be at the airport in thirty,’ Jinwoo’s voice startled you as the window on the driver’s side rolled down. ‘You’ll have a whole hour to exchange your lovey-dovey stares on the plane, children.’

‘Hyung…’ Dongmin mumbled in embarrassment, and you coughed, sliding into the backseat while your boyfriend’s palm hovered above your head protectively.

‘I’m older than you, Jinwoo-yah,’ you scolded, and he hummed in response.

‘Barely!’ He glanced in the rearview mirror, meeting your eyes, and added. ‘Noona.’

You shook your head in disapproval, and turned to Dongmin, who settled in the backseat with you and moved to buckle you up.

‘I can do it! Let’s not make Jinwoo cringe.’

‘Why would he cringe…’ Your boyfriend pouted, watching you tug at the seatbelt.

‘I’m fine unless you start the funny business,’ the leader announced nonchalantly from the front seat.

‘Have you ever caught us doing anything?’ You huffed, and the car was silent for a few long seconds. ‘Have you??’

‘Does hearing count?’ He asked, and your boyfriend’s eyes almost bulged out of his head.

‘Shut up,’ you laughed nervously, only half-assured that it was a joke.

‘It’s actually true. It was when we all stayed at the dorm for a sleepover. You rustle like mice,’ Jinwoo recalled.

‘What?? We weren’t doing anything fu-’

Dongmin’s hand suddenly squeezed your thigh, putting a stop to your protesting speech.

‘Please, just… change the subject, noona.’

Teasing you and Dongmin was Astro members’ favorite pastime, and you noticed from the very beginning. They simply loved making him a flustered mess. Not that you couldn’t relate – the face genius looked almost unbearably cute when embarrassed. You weren’t a stranger to teasing him yourself, just to get your fix of his adorable shy smile and his extensive nagging about how you never let him breathe.

In fact, he loved to nag. It was his way of showing affection.

‘Ah, noona… Your dress is so revealing,’ he kept whining while you were on the plane. ‘D’you know how active the sun is in Jeju? Did you apply the sunscreen thoroughly?’

‘Yes. But you can reapply it if you want an excuse to touch my chest,’ you murmured, making him flush red and lower his voice to a scandalized whisper.

‘That’s not what I meant-’

‘I’m sure it isn’t.’ You hummed, laying your head on his shoulder. ‘But I’d still let you.’

The flight from Seoul to Jeju Island was rather quick, about one hour in the air. And it seemed to be over even faster since you were too busy whispering, giggling like lovestruck teenagers, and ‘oh’-ing in excitement as you looked out the illuminator.

Going on a trip with your boyfriend was something you’d been dreaming of for months now, so your mood was through the roof from the moment you woke up. It kept gradually increasing while you were on your way to the dream destination, and reached its peak when Dongmin rented a car to drive the two of you to the hotel.

‘If anything is better than this view,’ you turned away from the window to look at your boyfriend’s relaxed form. ‘It’s probably this.’

‘What?’ He glanced at you, not catching your meaning.

‘You.’

He huffed, scolding you for being cheesy.

‘What, I’ve told you this before! You look most handsome either when you’re driving or when your hair gets wet.’

‘I shall try driving with wet hair someday. Will that make you explode?’

‘Is that your goal?’ You asked, tracing your index finger down the side of his neck, which made him squirm.

‘Stop it, you know I’m ticklish…’

‘You’re not ticklish, you’re sensitive.’ You corrected, running the pads of your fingers over his skin again to make him shudder. ‘So, who’s exploding now?’

He gave you a reproachful look, and you chuckled, pinching his cheek to annoy him further.

‘Why do you have to be so shameless, noona…’

‘Don’t you love that about me?’ You asked playfully.

‘I do,’ he was quick to admit. ‘I love everything about you.’

Caught off guard by his sudden confession, you fell silent. Dongmin didn’t say things like this often, he was a bit reserved about his feelings. You actually recalled that he’d only said ‘the three words’ twice in the span of your relationship. And on one of those occasions he was actually drunk, so… yeah. He was strangely tight-lipped about it for the romantic that he was.

But you’d learned to accept it. You wouldn’t push him to do something he didn’t want to or wasn’t ready to do. So, you just said nothing before your hotel was finally visible.

‘This is great, we can just drop everything and head out to the beach! I’m living for this weather,’ you said, clapping your hands in excitement.

Dongmin nodded in agreement.

As expected, the hotel was splendorous. You noticed that while your boyfriend was checking you in. Taking those few minutes to look around, you found yourself ogling the crystal-clear glass constructions that separated the lobby and the waiting area. The outer wall was also steel and glass, so you could enjoy the beautiful landscapes of Jeju even from there.

‘Let’s go,’ a low voice called, and you followed the tall figure to the elevator.

You really wanted to give him a back hug as he pressed the button, but decided to at least wait until you were on your floor.

Dongmin took your suitcase, which made you pout, unable to hold his hand.

‘I think it’s here,’ he guided you to the door and used the card to open it. ‘After you.’

And there went your plan to give him a back hug. Up in flames.

You sighed and stepped into the room.

‘Oh!’ You exclaimed, rushing to get rid of your outdoor shoes in favor of slippers. ‘Let’s check the view! Come on!’

Surprised by your eagerness, your boyfriend shook his footwear off as well, reaching out his hand to allow you to tug him towards the balcony.

‘Oh my god, this is even better than I expected!’ You squealed, almost jumping in excitement, and squeezed his palm. ‘My hands are itching to take pictures! Come on, lean on this railing.’

Knowing better than to argue with you, he did exactly as he was told, and posed for you.

‘Ah, so handsome,’ you kept repeating, while preserving this moment in the form of a photograph.

Dongmin lost his patience in about a minute, pulling you closer to his body.

‘Are you interested in the view or in spending time with me?’

‘I see you every other day, and it’s my first time in Jeju, of course I’m interested in the view!’ You exclaimed. ‘Especially when you’re making it even better.’

He allowed you to kiss away his pout, and held you close for a selfie.

‘No, my head looks too big like this!’

You jumped in place to reach the phone, because your partner refused to take likable pictures.

‘I got it, I got it,’ he assured you, angling it to make the two of you look disproportionate again.

When you pinched him angrily, he laughed in the cheekiest way possible, begging for mercy instantly.

At least then you’d managed to finally take presentable photos.

Leaving you to admire the ocean some more, Dongmin headed back inside to unpack your belongings. You needed to change into your swimsuits if you wanted to enjoy the rest of the day on the beach.

‘Uh- noona?’

‘Mhm?’

‘Did you… see that?’

His voice sounded confused, so you followed it back into the room.

‘See wha- Omo! Is this..?’

You turned to your boyfriend, who denied you eye contact.

‘Glass bathroom.’ He noted blankly, without showing what his actual feelings about it were.

Was he shy? Anxious? Excited? Uncomfortable? You couldn’t decipher his expression for the life of you.

‘Yeah,’ you agreed.

It was a simple yet exquisite design, no one could argue that it looked good. But the problem was that the bathroom here had no wall separating it from the main bedroom space. Which could only mean…

‘Well, I’m sure we’ll manage,’ you shrugged, walking past Dongmin to find your change of clothes. ‘Get your swimwear out while I change. And don’t peek!’

He grumbled under his breath and you snickered faintly. Damn, you were going to have to face the bathroom issue at some point today. And you should mentally prepare.

It wasn’t on your mind for long though.

As soon as you hit the beach… The beautiful clear sky, the warm sand under your bare feet, the lagoon blue water – all of it occupied your head and made you forget all of the possible inconveniences.

‘Don’t swim away,’ Dongmin nagged, stretching out his arms to reach you.

‘Why, scared of going in deep water?’ You teased him, splashing him lightly with your foot.

‘Noona,’ he sulked, and you allowed the waves to push you towards your boyfriend.

As soon as you were within his reach again, he pulled you closer to his body, not caring too much about the spectators.

‘What now, giant baby?’

‘Don’t call me that,’ Dongmin murmured, and you instantly knew he wanted a kiss.

‘There’s too many people, Min-ah,’ you responded, placing your palm on his chest, covered by the soaked white fabric of his tee.

‘Just once,’ he badgered, stepping closer to you.

Of course, his feet were still grounded where you were floating.

‘Why should I?’ You feigned a complaining tone, glancing at his plump lips.

‘Because.’

Dongmin’s hands seized you by the waist, and your forearms prickled with goosebumps.

Staying still while he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, you’d allowed him to steal this quick kiss before swimming away again.

You had literally spent all day in the water, taking short breaks to let your wrinkled skin get back to normal. And reapply sunscreen again, of course, with your boyfriend being a total worrywart.

‘I don’t want you to get sunburnt. Your skin is so fair and delicate, it’s important to make sure it’s protected. Did you know getting sunburned increases your chances of skin cancer?’

A worrywart and a smartass.

It was hard to be mad at his smart (and round) ass though, when he had brilliant ideas like tonight. Dongmin had suggested ordering a fancy dinner to your room and having it on your balcony to enjoy the view.

‘Wah, the sunset is perfect today,’ you said.

‘Your dress goes well with it. Very chic and minimalistic.’ His eyes followed the curve of your waist down to your thigh.

‘I’ve had it forever, but I have no clue where else to wear a red silk gown.’

‘Don’t.’ Dongmin’s cheeks and lips were both red from the wine. ‘Only wear it for me, noona.’

Chuckling, you rose from your seat and stepped closer to your boyfriend. Using just your index finger, you tipped his head up to meet his eyes, and then you put your right knee onto his chair, right between his thighs.

‘Are you telling me what to do now, aegi?’ You asked, enjoying the sensation of his gentle fingers ghosting over your thighs.

‘It’s your decision, but why would you deny me this request?’ His hand became more confident, creeping up your bare skin now. ‘Are you hungry for someone else’s attention?’

‘How drunk are you, Dongmin-ah?’ You asked, brushing your lips against his. ‘Because it seems like you could do something right here, where people might see us.’

Straightening up, you smiled angelically at him.

‘We need to shower and cool off. I’m pretty sure I have sand where it shouldn’t be.’

It was obvious that he was disappointed, but the night was young, and to fully enjoy the experience you had to sober up a little. But it was nothing a quick shower couldn’t fix.

‘You go first, I’ll get rid of the dishes. Don’t argue,’ you cut him off, nodding at the entrance to your room. ‘Go.’

It took you only a few minutes to tidy up, so when you walked in Dongmin was just starting out. The water was on, and he was in front of the glass door, almost ready to step in.

The realization hit you right then. You were going to see all of it. And you didn’t hate the idea.

You’d watched, as if in slow motion, how your boyfriend shoved his underwear down, revealing his plump butt, and got into the bath. Feeling no shame whatsoever, you stood your ground, staring at his bare back.

The water hit his body, languidly running down his smooth skin like a dozen forest streams. From where you were standing you could see the enticing flex of his muscles and the breathtaking curve of his waist. As he leaned in to wet his hair, you pressed a palm to your mouth. This slight voyeurism was making you quite… hot. And bothered.

Swallowing hard, you took a step towards him. You were a bit uneasy with the thought of how he might react. At least you’d hoped that he wouldn’t consider you a complete pervert. But you couldn’t resist the obvious temptation; it was most likely what this bathroom was built for. After all, you still owed him a back hug in your mind from earlier… Surely, he wouldn’t mind that you decided to give it to him now, you thought.

Easily sliding your dress and underwear off, you stopped in front of the glass that was getting foggy already.

‘Dongmin-ah,’ you called, opening the glass door to join him. ‘Noona doesn’t have to wait, does she?’

There was no way you could get a coherent response to your question as your hands wrapped around him and your cheek pressed to his shoulder blade. You felt him freeze for a moment, probably startled by your actions, and then he sighed under his breath.

‘What are you up to now? I thought you wanted me to cool off.’

‘Did you now?’ You hummed, pressing a quick succession of kisses along his spine. ‘Would you like me to stop?’

He pressed his palm to the wall in order to maintain his balance under the attack of your tantalizing hands.

‘No.’

Snaking your hand down to cup his balls, you smiled at his gasp of surprise.

‘That’s what I thought.’

With your body pressed so tightly to his, you didn’t even think twice before grinding on his ass and urging him to moan out loud as your fingers wrapped around his semi-hard penis.

‘Noona…’ He gritted, glutes flexing against your pelvis impatiently. ‘What are you doing…’

‘You don’t like it?’

Dongmin glanced at you over his shoulder before turning to face you. His hands gripped your sides and pushed you into him.

‘Were you watching me this entire time?’ He scolded in his low, velvety voice.

‘It was just a couple minutes,’ you defended weakly and wrapped your arms around his neck, ready to purr as his palms stroked up and down your back.

‘I see.’

You stood like that for a few moments, soaking in the warmth of your entangled bodies while the water splashed you from the side.

‘Didn’t you mention having sand in places it shouldn’t be?’ He murmured, hands dipping lower to squeeze your ass. ‘Want some help with that?’

‘How naughty,’ you snickered, messing up his wet hair even further. ‘Would you rather help me clean up, or...?’

‘Or.’

He responded in a heartbeat, gripping you tight before lifting you up to settle you in the bathroom wall niche.

‘But I can always do both,’ he said, readjusting the shower head to splash you with water again.

You squealed and dragged him in the line of fire as well. Inevitably in ten seconds you were both properly soaked.

‘There was no need to get my hair wet. You look sexy like this, and I look like I need to use a hairdryer real bad.’

He ignored your complaints, leaning close and nearly grazing your lips. With your eyes shut, you waited a few seconds but nothing happened.

‘Were you expecting a kiss?’ He grinned in your face, eyes crinkling in mischief. ‘Aw, what a tiny baby…’

Recalling your earlier interactions in the water, you rolled your eyes at him.

‘So, this is your revenge?’ You asked, not resisting as he wrapped your legs around his waist to move even closer. ‘I don’t find it fair since I did let you kiss me. In public.’

He huffed in response to your statement.

‘You call that a kiss?’

Dongmin’s lips suddenly found yours, and you couldn’t avoid the contact. Tilting your head back you hit the tiled surface, but, thankfully, your boyfriend could predict this move. His palm on the back of your head cushioned the hit, and you could only squeak in surprise, parting your lips invitingly.

He wasn’t the type to waste an opportunity like that. And once Dongmin’s tongue was in your mouth, there was no point in fighting him. Your partner was a little too good at French kissing, and you could easily admit to being hopelessly weak to his talent. He was also a toucher, so whenever a makeout session started, his hands would be all over you.

Moaning as he squeezed your breast gently, you pushed against his chest to break the kiss. Your lips were moist, and you were sure it wasn’t because of the water still running, and you licked them in a failed attempt to gather your thoughts together. Dongmin used your momentary struggle to tease you.

‘That is what I call a kiss, noona. You know this.’

You gulped, trying to think of a good comeback. At this point, you really just wanted to surrender. But him being smug about it was an obstacle: you had no intention of pleasing his ego with instant capitulation.

Grabbing a handful of his hair, you pulled hard. His head whipped back, and you didn’t think twice before latching onto his neck hungrily.

Dongmin’s grunt was the single sexiest thing in the entire situation, not even the sight of his broad shoulders that you were holding onto right now or his curvaceous butt that you loved so much could compete with the sound he produced. It was both surprised and pained, loud and husky with pleasure. You could tell he was conflicted about it just from the way his fingers dug into the skin of your sides, almost scratching at your ribcage, while his cock twitched, pressed between your bodies. He needed to get you off of himself but did he want to?

Pulling away from his flushed neck, you tugged at his hair again just to hear him groan beautifully before he used his strength to tear your hand away from his hair.

‘Noona. You know how heavily it bruises,’ he rubbed his neck with the pads of his fingers. ‘Why would you?’

‘On a scale from one to ten,’ you murmured, brushing wet hair out of his eyes. ‘How much did you hate it?’

You touched the tender skin of his neck, just where the redness was growing, and his breath seemed to get shakier.

‘…s-seven,’ he mumbled.

‘Mm?’

Dongmin cleared his throat, staring at you through his dark eyelashes.

‘Three point seven,’ he offered this time, and you couldn’t help but smile.

‘That’s more like it,’ you hummed, finding his frowning lips in a quick peck.

Meanwhile, he reached down to wrap his fingers around his rock-solid cock to guide it where you both wanted it.

‘Ough-’ You gasped as he bottomed out in one go. ‘Don’t be impatient.’

Your boyfriend’s hips didn’t slow down one bit, although his next thrust seemed slightly more careful. He loved you but he was also damn stubborn.

The glass wall behind Dongmin was getting cloudier from the hot water, which you didn’t hate. The enclosed space seemed snugger now that you were isolated from your surroundings in a way, holding so tightly onto each other. Your skin was slippery under your partner’s fingers, yet he made sure to secure you in his arms. He liked to make it known that once he got you, he wasn’t letting go.

‘Mm- Dongmin-ah,’ you moaned, clutching his shoulder to ground yourself as he kept thrusting quickly.

‘There,’ he finished for you, already knowing what you wanted to express from the way that you tightened around him.

‘Yes, fuck-’

‘Don’t you wish you were more compliant earlier?’ He chuckled darkly, knowing damn well his hips were steadily pushing you towards your release.

The curses you muttered only spurred him on. He got fired up easily, and wanted nothing more than to see and hear you come undone. Especially when he felt he was denied something – like access to your body.

‘I’m… so close, Min-ah, please- You feel so good.’

You knew he liked to stay in control, so instead of bickering with him mid-sex, you just let him know how great he was at what he was doing. A tiny smile that he couldn’t contain revealed that he was pleased with the option you decided to take. With that, he got slightly more determined and aggressive in his thrusting. Patience was not the virtue that he possessed, so you simply closed your eyes, focused on the grind of your bodies.

‘God, I love you so much,’ he gritted, letting out a curse under his breath.

The words were muffled, but you heard them loud and clear. A pleasant shiver ran down your spine, and you moaned, muscles clenching around his cock. The smooth sensation of his length sliding in and out of you made your legs start to tremble.

‘Dongminie-’ You wailed as his hips kept up the brutal pace that brought you to your release so quickly.

He was still going fast and strong while you yelped, on the verge of pushing him away.

‘I’m there, I’m there… Y/N! Agh-’

Dongmin’s voice reverberated from the walls, not even absorbed by the thickened fog around you that you barely noticed. He groaned loudly as he came, and your pussy quivered while you took all of what he was giving you.

Resting his forehead in the crook of your neck to get a breather, he ran his hands up and down your damp waist. You allowed him a moment to gather his strength, finding his slumped shoulders and stroking them along with his back. There were still butterflies in your stomach – either from your recent orgasm, or from him sneaking in the words you cherished so much, or both.

His hands soon reciprocated.

‘Dammit.’ He cursed, turning his head to kiss your neck that was in close proximity. ‘I feel like I could go again.’

The announcement made you squirm. Going several rounds was more than fine with you, but the bathroom wasn’t really suited for his appetites. You could barely hold your balance on wet tile, and it was also getting too hot and humid for your taste.

‘Are you cold?’ He asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You realized his palm was slowly caressing your back, feeling almost scorching against your skin.

‘Not too cold. But I’d still prefer to continue after we finish the shower.’ You suggested, hoping that he wasn’t dead set on milking the bathroom thing further.

‘Noona needs to lie down. I got it.’

You were both grateful and annoyed at his answer.

‘Noona can very well be on top if someone lets her.’

He quickly let you down from the niche you were occupying. Just to remind you how much taller and broader than you he was, for sure.

‘Someone prefers to have noona underneath. Nice and pliable.’

‘It has to be your way, doesn’t it?’

You exchanged naughty chuckles.

‘Come on. Haven’t you been imagining exactly this since the moment you saw the bathroom area? I’m not entirely convinced it was my way just now.’

‘Oh well. I guess I’ll have to convince you once we get to the bedroom.’

‘Who said I wanted to relocate?’ He asked, eyes narrowing at you cunningly.

You were positive that next time you should go for a glass jacuzzi to get the best of both worlds. It’s bigger, warmer, comfier… And still see-though. And hot as hell.

Dongmin snorted, inspecting the pensive expression on your face.

‘I’ll give you a five-second head start to reach the bed. If I catch you on the way… We’re doing it here.’

In any other situation you would’ve called him out for his childishness. This time, however…

You were out the glass door in a heartbeat.

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading!! Please comment and reblog if you'd like to support me ✨ I don't write for fandoms other than EXO often, so feedback is important to me~

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thinkwosolife23 · 7 months

Text

The Set-up, Leah Williamson

In Y/N's POV:

"You expect me to do what!"

Okay, let's rewind a bit.

I'm Y/N Steinfeld. Yes, it just so happens that my older sister is Hailee Steinfeld. And, it also just so happens that i'm a singer, just like her.

I never did the acting like Hailee has, my main focus has always been my music. I've always done really well with my music. So at the end of this year, I start my very first World Tour. After 5 number 1 singles and a number 1 album, it made sense for a World Tour to be my next step.

However, unbeknown to me, my agent had other plans.

And this is where it all begins.

Somehow, i've ended up on a plane, with my sister and agent, flying from America to England.

2 weeks ago:

The phone call:

Me and Hailee were currently sat in our shared studio; just messing around with different tracks, when my phone rang.

"Hello?" I said when I answered the phone.

"Hi Y/N, it'a Nick." My agent answers.

"Oh, is everything okay?"

"Yes. Well, sort of." He sounded hesitant, almost nervous.

Hailee glanced at me with a questioning look, to which I just shrugged my shoulders at. I was as confused as she was.

"Y/N, I need you to hear me fully out on this okay." He continued.

"I'm not gonna like this, am I?" I could feel myself getting more fustrated at his ominious answers.

"So, as you know, we need to get as much publicity around you as we can before your tour."

"Yeah? Can you just get to the point Nick!"

"Right. Yeah, sure. Me and another agent have been in contact over the past couple of weeks regarding your publicty and we've come up with a plan to heavily boost your publicity." Nick told me, still hesitant to finish.

"And what is this plan?" By this point, my patience running thin. Hailee always knew when I was getting fustrated at something, and gently took ahold of my hand, trying to calm me down.

"Long story short, we are basically planning to stage a relationship. However, it is required of you to be in England for this, so your going to have to fly out."

"You expect me to do what?"

"Y/N, your tour is in jepardy if your don't do this." His voice becoming firmer as he spoke.

"What! So your telling me, that if I don't do this stupid publicity stunt, that I won't be able to go on MY tour. Do you know how fucked up that is?" Anger and fustration now, completely getting the best of me.

"Your flight is booked for 2 weeks from today. You and Leah will be expected in a meeting the day after you land." He answered, not even acknowledging my arguement.

"Leah? Who's Leah?"

"Leah Williamson. She has just captained the England Women's Team to winning the European Championship. Obviously, winning the Euros has brought a lot of attention to her name. Hense, why she is the option we have goe with."

"Right, so, an arrogant, cocky footballer. How lovely."

To say that I was angry would be an understatement. My hands running through my hair in fustration as Hailee pulled my phone from my hold.

"Nick, it's Hailee. I think it's best if you finish this conversation another time. You've clearly upset her, so I would leave her alone for now."

I couldn't hear Nick's response to Hailee. But after a couple of minutes the phone call ended.

Hailee placed herself down, next to me, wrapping her arms around me. Tears now flooding down my face in fustration and realisation of having to leave my country, let alone home, for someone I don't even know.

"Sis, look at me. Whatever it is, we'll get through it." She told me, grabbing my chin to look at her.

"He's making me go to England for some stupid footballer."

"Wait, woah. Calm down, he's making you do what?"

"I've got to go to England. They want to stage a relationship between me and this Leah, to basically bring more attention to me for my tour. But he told me, that if I don't do it, my tour could be cancelled." I told her, through stuttered breaths.

"Right, okay. So, this Leah girl, she hot or no?"

"Hailee, you can't say that." I said, laughing slightly at her outburst.

"Why not? Only the best for my sister. And I made you smile."

Back to now.

Me and Hailee have just arrived, with Nick, for the meeting with Leah and her agent.

We were there before them, so we were already sat and waiting by the time they got there.

Oh Shit. That's Leah.

She fucking gorgeous.

Fuck Me.

Right Y/N, get yourself out of them thoughts. Your not actually supposed to fancy her.

"Hey, i'm Leah." She said, as she got to me, holding her hand out for me to shake.

"I'm Y/N." I took her hand in mine, giving it a squeeze before quickly smiling at her and gently letting her hand go.

Her hands. God, there so soft.

After all the introductions, and everyone meeting each other. All 5 of us sat back down at the table.

We had to listen to our agents bang on about how this plan was supposed to work and what me and Leah had to do to make it believable. They spoke for a good half an hour. I hope they don't expect me to remember all of that.

Leah was sat opposite me. She kept pulling faces and rolling her eyes when either one of the agents were talking. making sure only I saw her doing it, it made me smile back at her before putting my head down so I didn't laugh out loud.

"Right, I think that's everything. We'll leave you two to get to know each other." Nick said, which pulled me out of my thoughts.

Nick, Hailee and Leah's agent all left the table, heading towards another room, leaving me and Leah alone in ther room.

"So…" I said, kind of akwardly. Not really knowing what to say.

"I've followed you for ages, y'know." Leah told me, after another couple minutes of silence.

"You have?"

"Yeah, I love your music. My teammates do too, but they always complain that I play your songs a slight bit too much, before and after matches."

"Your making me feel bad now." I told her, feeling kind of guilty.

"Why? What did I do?"

"No, no. You didn't do anything. I just, when I got told about all of this and you, I didn't really know who you were. Football has never really been my thing."

"Well, at least you say football and not stupid soccer. And hold up, your telling me that you've never watched or been to a football match." Leah said shocked, jokingly clutching her chest.

"No."

"Well, that's definatly gonna have to change. You'll have to come and watch me play."

"You want me to come and watch one of your games."

"Yeah, course."

Her hand reached out for mine, across the table, mine going straight into hers as if it was normal. It felt comfortable, almost natural for us.

"You know, I don't want this whole thing to be all contract and serious. I want us to be comfortable with each other and for us to be able to have fun. The least I want is a friend by the time it's all over."

Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought it would be.

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#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc #leah williamson #arsenal women #awfc #lionesses #engwnt #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x you

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

Ready, Rough and Unromantic | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley has a rough day at work, he knows the only thing that will make him feel better is his wife. But will you let him dominate you? Will you let him use you just how he needs to? He shouldn't have been surprised by your answer or your response to him.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, rough smut, dominant smut

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"I am so proud of you, Roo," you whispered, kissing his neck and zipping up his flight suit. It was early, the sun was just peeking through the bedroom curtains, but you were up helping him get ready for the first day of his duties.

Bradley would be spending the week as an assistant instructor at Top Gun. Few people would appreciate what an honor this was, but you understood it implicitly. You hadn't yet bothered to dress for the day, but you decided to wake up early to wish him luck.

He ran his fingers along your soft skin, completely bare for him except for your glasses and wedding rings, as he said, "I always want to make you proud, Baby Girl."

When Bradley tipped his head down to kiss your cheek, you giggled. The sound went right to the part of his brain that controlled his unbridled desire for you. All he had to do was squeeze your bare hip with his big hand, and you looked up into his eyes.

"Do we have time?" you asked softly before you bit your lip.

He kind of shrugged and grunted, but you were already lowering the zipper of his flight suit all the way down. Bradley let you take the lead on this one, and when you dropped to your knees, he was not disappointed.

The way you wrapped your pretty lips around his cock... yeah, there would always be time for that. "You're so fucking good," he groaned as you took him deep, and he hit the back of your throat. You sucked on him until you were gagging, then you pulled him out as a strand of your saliva dripped onto your tits.

"This is for good luck," you told him before you tilted your head and sucked on his balls until he was pulling on your hair a little rough.

"Oh," he groaned. "My wife doesn't mess around." His words were deep and gruff compared to the long, soft moans you made as your tongue swirled up the length of his cock.

You kissed the tip of him, whispered, "I love you," and then you gave him absolutely filthy head until he was cumming all over you. Your hollowed cheeks and warm hands had him fucking your face until cum dripped out of the corners of your lips. And when he spurted onto your glasses a second later, your giggle returned.

Bradley loved the sight of it enough that he wanted to make a mess with you later on when he had more time. Coat your glasses up real good. Maybe help you lick them clean.

"Fuck," he growled. "I need to leave, Sweetheart." Bradley pulled you to your feet and placed a soft slap to your ass. You kissed him hard one time, and he promised he'd take care of you later.

---------------------------

"Tally, tally!" called one of the younger recruits into the radio. But his teammate and wingman left him hanging long enough that Bradley got himself quickly into position. A few seconds later, Bradley got tone on him and eliminated him.

He was feeling great, and when the team landed along with Bradley, he took some time to show them where they went wrong and how they could improve. "As soon as you hesitate, it's over," he informed them, knowing very well that he had learned that lesson himself not terribly long ago.

The recruits filed back inside for lunch while Bradley joined Maverick and the other teachers to go over the plans for the afternoon. Honestly, he was having a great day, and when he was told he'd be taking another team up in the afternoon, he was looking forward to it.

But he must have been distracted. Or maybe he was the one who hesitated this time. Because as soon as Bradley managed to fly the two seater Super Hornet into a corner, he heard tone lock onto his own aircraft.

He had been outmaneuvered by a twenty five year old student.

Bradley landed his aircraft in a state of shocked silence, barely managing to communicate with the tower. He was mortified. And of course, as soon as he walked into the tower, everyone knew about it.

"It happens," Mav told him. "It was your first day instructing. You'll nail their asses to the wall tomorrow."

But Bradley could see the looks on the students' faces. He could practically hear Nat's voice through her text message.

Are you fucking kidding me, Rooster? They took you out?

He wasn't even sure how she heard about it from the simulation classroom. But seemingly everyone knew. It took everything inside him to keep his shoulders squared and his voice calm. Because inside he wanted to rage. He wanted back up in the air. He wanted to meticulously pick off every single other aircraft one at a time until he didn't feel like a joke anymore.

And that made him feel like maybe he wasn't ready to be an instructor yet.

"Fuck," he growled, slamming his locker door closed later. Absolutely nobody messed with him in the locker room. Nobody would even look at him. He was surrounded by dead silence everywhere he went.

As he stormed out to his Bronco, his skin was crawling with the burning need to prove himself. To dominate his surroundings. When he started up the engine, he took a few deep breaths that did nothing to calm the rising temperature of his humiliation. The blazing desire to conquer. Overpower. Defeat.

He needed to get home to you. Somehow he knew you were the only thing that would make him feel better.

By the time he pulled into the driveway, he was practically panting. You were already home from work. This was good. When he opened the front door, he called out, "Where are you?" His voice was raspy. His body was too hot.

"In the kitchen, Roo!" you replied. "Come tell me all about your day!"

You had taken your boots and socks off, but you were still in your uniform with your hair pulled back in a tight bun. And you were up on the kitchen counter changing the lightbulb that he had noticed kept flickering. This kind of shit was his job to take care of around the house. You shouldn't have to be up on the counter like this.

But as soon as he really looked at you, his cock throbbed with need. You looked at him over your shoulder as you finished with the new bulb. "What's wrong?" you asked softly, slightly alarmed. You must have seen the look in his eyes. He had never looked at you like this before.

Bradley knew you could make him feel better. If you let him do it. If you'd let him take his day out on you.

He snagged you off the counter and into his arms as you squealed, but you quickly gaped at him as he carried you to the bedroom.

"Bradley?" you whispered, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and searching his face.

He tossed you onto the bed and climbed on top of you, not bothering to remove his boots. You were silent, eyes wide and lips softly parted as he let you have his body weight. Your gaze was on his lips like you were expecting him to kiss you and be your sweet husband like he usually was.

"No," he growled, and your eyes darted up to his. You looked needy and uncertain. Bradley could tell you wanted to ask him what was going on. But then he read your last name on your nametag, annoyed that it didn't say Bradshaw yet. Very gently, he removed it, snapped it in half, and threw it across the room. Then he unbuttoned your shirt without a word and pushed it open wide.

Your nipples were straining against your black lace bra. You were very subtly rubbing yourself up against his hard cock. Your pupils were dilated. You wanted to get fucked.

"I hate your fucking name tag. Okay?" he asked, voice gruff as he wrapped his hand around the front of your neck. "I hate it."

You bit your lip and whispered, "You had a bad day."

"You told me you were going to get a new name tag," he grunted, pressing his hard cock against your thigh. "You said you submitted the paperwork for your name change."

"I did." Your voice was so needy. Bradley shoved his thumb into your mouth and watched as you opened wide and licked him.

"Get a new fucking name tag. And leave the light bulbs for me to change."

"I will," you said again with your mouth full of his thumb.

"Shut up," he growled, and your eyes went so wide as you moaned. "I'm not in the fucking mood. And I'm not going to be sweet. Not right now. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you cry. Use your pussy exactly how I want to."

You moaned around his thumb again.

"Tell me that's what you want," he demanded. You nodded your head, and he withdrew his thumb. "Fucking say it."

"I want it." Your voice was breathy but sure, and Bradley was going to dominate you until your tears and whining made him feel better. Because there was always only you who could fix him.

He practically ripped open the front of your khaki uniform pants to get to you. Bradley yanked the fabric down your legs and sent your pants across the room to meet your broken name tag. Tiny, black lace panties cut low on your hips. He could see your tattoo. He could tell you were wet through the fabric.

"You look like a little slut," he informed you. He watched you bite your lip as your back arched off the bed. "You shouldn't be this excited about being manhandled." Then the scrap of black lace met the same fate as your pants and the name tag.

Bradley had to commend you. You kept your mouth shut as he unzipped his flight suit, lowering the sleeves and pulling his cock free. You were silent as he rubbed himself through your wet slit. You didn't make a noise as he slowly slid himself inside your dripping wet pussy until he bottomed out. And only the softest sound escaped your lips as Bradley wrapped his big hands around your hips and lifted you slightly off the bed.

But you screamed when he held you in place, your ass in midair, and fucked you like you were his own personal toy. He slammed into your pussy with short, rough strokes. It was, in so many ways, the dirtiest thing he had ever done to you. And it felt to fucking good, Bradley could cum inside you right now. But your screams had him going harder, wanting to enjoy this feeling of control for as long as possible.

"Louder," he told you. But he didn't really even need to say anything as he tightened his grip on your flesh and fucked you until tears leaked from your eyes. Your cries filled the room, so loud his ears were ringing from it.

He withdrew from your body and let you fall to the bed. You were scrambling now, reaching for him. Looking up at him with tears in your eyes like you needed him to kiss you.

He flipped you onto your belly before ramming his cock inside you again. Your hands were all balled up in the pillowcase as you cried out against the bedding. The rapid slap slap slapping noise of his body dominating yours was one of the prettiest things he had ever heard. The way you were letting him calm his nerves and soothe his ego, well if he hadn't already married you, he'd do it today.

He palmed you softly before laying a solid smack right to the round of your ass. You moaned and sucked in a deep breath as he leaned down and put his lips next to your ear. "Tell me you want me to stop."

You shook your head and turned to look back at him, eyes red with tears. "Keep going," you hiccupped. "Please."

Bradley pushed your face back down into the pillow as you gasped and cried for him. He pumped his hips hard, grabbing at your thighs and your backside. Then he wrapped his forearm underneath you and pulled you up until you were on your knees for him. And how he had the perfect view of your body as you took him, full hilt, like a champ. You gorgeous pussy grabbed at him with each stroke, and Bradley spit on you where you were joined, making everything wetter.

"You like this, don't you?" he asked as you moaned and whimpered. "Huh? You actually fucking like this." He was so close as he spanked you just to feel you clench around him. "You fucking slut."

He pressed his lips to your ear again and slipped his hand up to shove his fingers into your mouth. You were moaning and slobbering all over his hand, crying into the pillow.

"You're perfect," Bradley growled as he filled you up with his cum. He fucked you with jerky strokes, pushing his load deeper and deeper until he guided you down flat on your belly with his hand on your ass. You were half crushed under his body weight, kitten licking his fingers when he realized he felt so good. So much calmer. You made everything better just like he knew you would.

But now he was slightly concerned that he had taken it too far, even with your permission. As he kissed along the back of your neck and ran his fingers softly up your arm, he whispered, "Are you okay, Baby Girl?"

Your voice was still a little watery with tears as you said, "I won't be able to walk tomorrow. And now I need to update my to-do list so I remember to order a new name tag. But that was hot. Do you feel better?"

Bradley wrapped you up in his arms and buried his nose against your skin. He felt perfect. "So much better. Thank you."

He helped you to your feet with the promise of a bubble bath. Then he assured you he could figure out how to make something for dinner. After he picked up all of the discarded clothing, he threw your name tag in the bathroom trash can while you sank down into the tub.

"I have an extra name tag in my office, you know," you told him with an eye roll and a smirk.

"I know," he replied, bending to kiss your nose. "And I have an extra one in my locker. You can have it. We can match. It'll be cute." And now all he could think about was you wearing his last name on your khaki uniform every day.

-----------------------

Okay, yes...okay, yep. That happened. Stay tuned for the upcoming (4th!) series with Roo and BG called Always Ever Only You! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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mamsieur · 8 months

Text

Don't mess with the Storm | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary : Sometimes, Cyclone could live up to his call sign. Especially when it concerned you, his youngest daughter, his little Storm.

TW : slight violence, mention of alcohol, family/domestic fluff

Length : 6753 words

AN : You can't make me believe that Beau Simpson isn't a family man with lots of kids. That's what he radiates.

posted on AO3 August 21, 2023

Your mom always said you took after your dad, but if he was a Cyclone, you were a Storm ; smaller and less destructive. Storm has always been your nickname.

It described you quite well as much in your way of doing things than in your personality. You were passionate about everything you did and you often left a mess after you.

Being a Vice Admiral, Beau managed to control himself for his work but when it came to you and your well being, he could literally destroy everything on his way. Not that your father was in any way abusive or violent, but he sometimes could over react.

You were your parents’ precious little baby.

You were the youngest of four children; you had three older brothers, all in the military. Two of them, Nathan and Jamie, were naval aviators, like your father, and one, Aaron, was a Marine Officer.

Needless to say, you were well taken care of ; you liked to think that you had a small ‘army’ for yourself.

But as much as they thought of you as their little princess, they never treated you like one, and you never wanted to be. You were tough and very capable of defending yourself. Your father always encouraged you in whatever you wanted to do.

You wanted to join the soccer team? Let's go. Switch to boxing lessons? Done. A new passion for karting? He had your back. An interest in mechanics ? He bought you your first tool box.

As long as you put your heart and soul into whatever you did, your family would support you.

So when you told them you wanted to work for the Navy after your engineering degree, they were as supportive as they could be.

You were a genius engineer - your mom’s word, not yours - and you loved working on jets, inspecting them, gathering as much data as possible to make them as efficient as they can be. Working at Top Gun was heaven. Since the pilots were supposed to be the best, you loved pushing them and their machines to be better and better.

Of course, the fact that you were working on the same base as your father had raised some eyebrows. But neither of you cared, and he got you no special treatment.

After the uranium mission, you were assigned to check the status of the Dagger Squad's F-18s. Everything seemed to be in good shape, and while your computer analyzed the flight data, you inspected the engines. You liked to work alone when you could, it helped you stay in your bubble of concentration.

The sun was slowly setting as you finished diagnosing the last jet. Being alone in the hangar, you took the opportunity to put on some music. You hummed and swayed a little while you waited for the analysis to finish on your screen and inspected the engine.

Your head was - quite literally - in it when you heard footsteps behind you. They stopped a few feet away from you to let you finish what you were doing.

"I'll just be two minutes," you muttered and then shrugged, getting no response. You finished inspecting the seemingly defective part and stood up. Your face was covered in dust and motor oil, and your hair was starting to fall out of your ponytail.

You sighed and turned to your mysterious guest.

"Oh! Good evening Lieutenant Bradshaw. May I help you?" you smiled a little and wiped your forehead with the back of your hand.

"Good evening Second Lieutenant Simpson, to tell you the truth, yes, you may..." he grinned charmingly, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the plane, "I was wondering if you'd forgotten our date? It's 7:20, and we agreed to meet at 6:30 ?”

You stopped smiling and looked at the clock. Crap! You hadn't seen the time.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I was servicing the jets and didn't realize what time it was! I should have set an alarm, I'm sorry. Jesus, how could I be so stupid?"

You were starting to mumble excuses as you gathered your things when you felt his hand on your wrist.

"It's okay, I know how you get when you're focused on something. We’ll find another day for that. I'll wait for you at the bar, okay?" he reassured you with a grin.

"Uh yeah, yeah okay! I'll be quick!" you nodded and smiled back at him. He tucked a strand of your wild hair behind your ear, a few inches from you, making you blush slightly. His thumb stroked your cheek. He had that cheeky smile he always had when something was on his mind. He took your hand and kissed your knuckles, his beautiful brown eyes never leaving yours.

" Or , I can also wait for you in the changing-"

" Lieutenant Bradshaw, Second Lieutenant Simpson, what are you two still doing here? "

Your father's stern voice echoed through the hangar, taking you by surprise. Bradley took a quick step back and straightened his posture to greet him.

"I, uh-"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw forgot his keys, sir, he was out. I got carried away with the diagnostics, I'm almost finished here," you replied quickly as Cyclone’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Bradley then at you.

"Hm. You better hurry then, Second Lieutenant, overtime is not allowed. You're free to go Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Yes sir!" you said in unison and Bradley left as quickly as he could, flashing one last smile in your direction before disappearing down the corridors.

As you started to clean up the mess you'd made, you heard an amused sigh.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. You're still living up to your nickname."

"Ha ha, very funny Dad," you rolled your eyes and closed your toolbox, "Don't wait for me, I'm going out tonight."

"Mmh. Is Bradshaw involved?" he asked as he helped you carry your stuff to the storage room.

"Yes? I mean the whole Dagger team is, I need to get to know them to understand how they work."

That was only half a lie. You knew they most likely were all at the Hard Deck, you'd met them there a few times. You got along well with them, especially Natasha, Bob and Mickey. And of course, Bradley... But it was different with him.

You'd known him for years and your very first assignment had been with him. Your friendship had evolved over the years into a kind of friends-with-benefits/fuck-buddies relationship until a few weeks ago. Since the uranium mission, he wanted more than that, and so did you. You two tried to keep your relationship secret because you suspected it could jeopardize either of your careers, and mostly because you knew your father would not approve.

He always thought the guys you dated were not good enough for you. And as annoying as it was, he was always right. He scared away some of them and when you thought back about it, it's a good thing he did.

Truth be told, you have been in love with Bradley for so long that sometimes it hurted.

You had tried to tell him so many times in the past, but you were afraid of losing what little intimacy you had with him. So when he asked you out, first thing after the uranium mission, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. The hope that your feelings would be reciprocated had invaded your heart and mind, and you felt like it was the first time you were in love. It wasn’t of course, but you were all giddy about it.

You didn’t like to lie to your dad, he knew you too much to know everything in just one look.

But it was worth it, wasn’t it ?

You hoped it was.

After a well-deserved shower, you changed into clean, comfortable clothes that actually suited you. You put on your helmet and rode to the bar with your motorbike. Your mother hated when you used that ‘death machine’ and your father wasn't really fond of it either. It reminded him of Maverick. He wasn’t fond of Maverick. It always made you laugh watching your dad trying to remain calm in front of the Captain. You’ve never seen a man getting on his nerves that much.

The Hard Deck was already busy when you parked ; a totally normal Friday night , you thought. Looking around, you spotted Natasha’s, Javy’s and Bradley’s cars.

Penny nodded at you with a smile as you entered. The Daggers were in their usual places and Bradley seemed to be winning the pool game against Jake. In a desperate attempt to break his concentration, Jake chuckled, "Your girlfriend's here, Bradshaw”.

The whole team had discovered your relationship, of course, but swore to keep it a secret. You were grateful to them, but Jake being himself, he couldn't resist taking a dig at you.

You rolled your eyes and took a seat next to Bob, watching the two eternal rivals finish their game. You caught up with Mickey and theorized with him on the last episodes of Kenobi then made your way towards Penny at the bar to buy your round of beers. As you waited for your drinks at the counter, you felt two hands around your waist.

"You're late, Second Lieutenant ."

"Had to fix your teammates’ jets, Lieutenant , tell them to be more careful," you grinned, leaning your back against your boyfriend's torso. You heard him chuckle softly as he whispered that you were an ‘idiot' and kissed the top of your head.

"Sorry about our date, I'll make it up to you."

"You bet your sweet ass you will," Bradley snickered at the squeal you let out as he spanked you a little, “But right now, you owe me a dance to celebrate my victory against Hangman.”

He took your hand as you rolled your eyes but followed him. Your whole body pressed against his, arms around his neck, the room faded away. All you could feel and see was him; one of his hands on the small of your back, the other on your hip, guiding you. The warmth of his body was like a spell that kept you close, not wanting to let go.His hands roamed down your back making you shiver. It felt like you belonged there.

You couldn’t let go of his eyes, hypnotized. He had such beautiful eyes ; those hazel brown orbs were magnetic, so infuriatingly charming.

One of your hands gently stroked his scarred cheek and he leaned into your touch, smiling like an idiot and humming the song you were slow dancing to. His smile always sent butterflies to your stomach and heat to your cheeks. It was almost annoying how easily you fell for his charms.

The two of you danced until the song ended and you pulled him by the collar to kiss him. You felt his hands slip into the back pockets of your jeans, shamelessly squeezing your ass, and his proud grin against your lips. You bit his as you pulled away from the kiss.

"Okay, lovebirds , get a room," Jake complained and you flipped him off, still in Bradley's arms.

"Don't be jealous Jakey, your time will come," you teased, making your partner chuckle.

"She's right Seresin, just wait till you're a big boy."

The evening continued quietly, with one beer after another, a few games of darts and pool, and a few songs on the piano for Bradley.

You watched him from the bar, mesmerized, an affectionate smile on your face. You still wondered how you'd managed to get his attention; this man could have anyone he wanted with his smile combined with a little song, the sweetness with which he spoke, his sarcasms, his eyes so soft and intense at the same time, his stupid, stupid, cocky grin... God, you were definitely and undoubtedly under his spell, mind and heart.

Your eyes never left his form for more than five seconds. You looked at him as if you wanted to learn every aspect of his physique; but to be honest, you already knew him by heart.

You could locate every beauty mark, every scar - and tell its story - and where his birthmark was. You could describe every shade of brown in his eyes, depending on the light or his emotions. You knew every expression on his face; when he was angry, frustrated, sad, or playful. You knew exactly where and how to touch him to make him putty in your hands, every positively sensitive area and those to avoid.

And yet, every time you looked at him, behind the piano, laughing with his friends, you discovered a new detail that made you love him even more.

The way he cared for all of them - even Jake, his "archenemy" - and knew just what to do to make them feel better and laugh. How he always listened to what they had to share, good or bad, and offered to help. How he'd always protect them as if they were his siblings, his rather hazardous family.

Speaking of hazardous family, it always made you laugh how Bradley could be so like Pete and like your dad. It was sometimes a mixture of arrogance and calm, defiance and seriousness. Part of you was sure that if they tried, your dad and Bradley would get along. But were they willing to ?

As you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice a man, a little younger than you, sitting next to your stool. He started talking, trying to flirt, but you didn’t really pay attention, still absorbed by your boyfriend’s silliness, until he clicked his fingers in front of your face.

“Hey, ‘m talking to you doll. You should really pay attention when someone is talking to you, got it ?”

You sipped your beer and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He continued his flirtatious attempts, bragging that he was one of the best in his class at Top Gun. He kept trying to get your attention by snapping his fingers or grabbing your arm. His breath was clearly too close to your face and stinked a mixture of beer and chips.

It really started to annoy you, so it was your turn to snap your fingers in his face.

"I'm not interested,” you snapped your fingers again, “If a girl ignores you, it's because she doesn't want to talk to you, got it ?"

You got off your stool, ready to join the Daggers by the piano. But a hand gripped your wrist and the man pulled you close to him. You could see a hint of anger and annoyance in his eyes, but it didn’t scare you. You were used to guys like him, thinking they own every woman they see.

“Listen doll, I was nice until now. Give me your number and I’ll forgive you,” he grinned, his buddies sneering behind him, as if they were proud of him. You couldn’t help but giggle at the scene. What kind of bad joke was that ?

In one swift motion, you released your wrist and pinned his arm behind his back. You bent him violently over the bar and locked him in that position, pressing down just enough to hurt and immobilize him.

"One false move and I will dislocate your arm," you threatened in his ear as a few glances turned in your direction. "Now listen to me carefully. This is the last time you'll talk to me or any woman like that. Understood?"

He grunted and struggled a little. You pressed harder and repeated, "Understood?"

"Okay! Okay, I understand! Get off me!"

The man growled again and you finally let go. Penny gave you a look that you understood as a warning and you smiled innocently to her. The man and his group walked away with a grunt, giving you one last murderous look. You smiled broadly and made a mocking curtsy.

Bradley raised an eyebrow as they passed him, muttering that you were a "crazy bitch". You joined him with two beers, one for him and one for you.

"What happened?"

"Nothing to worry about, just some big macho guy. He didn't like that I wasn't paying attention to him. I just put him in his place."

You shrugged with a smile and Bradley shook his head, laughing a little, knowing exactly what you meant. He put his arm around your waist and kissed your temple.

"I know you can defend yourself, but don't get yourself in trouble, Stormy."

"Don't worry, if I get in trouble, my knight in shining armor will come and rescue me, won't he?" you teased. He chuckled but nodded before taking you on his lap at the piano. He started a new song that had the remaining customers singing and dancing.

***

The end of the evening was a bit hazy.

You'd had too much to drink to get back on your bike, so it was Bradley who drove you home. You pulled your boyfriend into your small house - he offered no resistance - and kissed him as if your life depended on it, as if that simple contact made your heart beat. His hands roamed your body with hunger, and yours tore his Hawaiian shirt from his back. You thought of nothing but Bradley, his soft lips devouring your jaw and neck, leaving a few marks where he passed, his hands so warm on your skin, his breath making you shiver.

You wandered back to your room, kicking off your shoes, and your clothes ended up in a pile at the end of your bed.

You loved doing it with Bradley. He gave you everything you wanted and so much more. You'd never been as fulfilled as you were with him. It was as if he knew everything about how your body worked, that it held no secrets for him.

Your nightly activities have drained you both of what little energy you had left, and you fell asleep hugging each other, as if afraid the other will evaporate.

The next morning, it was not your massive headache that woke you, but the sound of several cars and children laughing outside your house. What day was it? Was it Saturday? It was Saturday!

You jumped to your feet as Bradley mumbled something unintelligible.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" You shook your boyfriend and wrapped yourself in a blanket as you heard the sound of a key turning in the front door lock.

"Bradley, get up!"

"Mmh, five minutes..." he mumbled, burying his face in the pillow. You heard the door open and small footsteps running toward your room. You panicked and shook him harder.

"We don't have five minutes! Get your ass up!"

You grabbed the first thing you could get your hands on: panties and Bradley's tank top. You stumbled to your bedroom door to get out before one of your nephews’ innocent eyes discovered their aunt and a man they didn't know naked as worms in her bed. You tried to look as natural as possible as you quickly closed the door behind you. Standing in front of you was Jack, your three-year-old nephew. He was Nathan’s, your oldest brother, son. He laughed as he threw himself on your legs to give you a hug.

"Oh my God, hi sweetie! You're early!"

"Dada said we'd surprise you, Auntie! And Pop-Pop is here too!" the little boy laughed.

"What a nice thought!" you tried not to sound too ironic as you picked him up to give him a kiss and rearrange his wild blond hair. "Auntie needs to get dressed, okay? Go wait with your dad in the living room!"

You gave him one last kiss and made sure he ran to the living room before storming back to your bedroom. How could you forget that your brothers were visiting today? You were so screwed! A million thoughts went through your head and one thing made you snap out of it; Bradley yawning and taking his sweet time getting up. You grumbled and attacked him with a pillow.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"We're in deep shit Bradley! My whole family is here! They weren't supposed to be up this early!"

"What?" he blinked and narrowed his eyes, trying to process what you'd just told him. You started to rattle on about how your brothers got their permission for your mom's birthday, but your brothers were here super early with their wifes, their kids, and your mom and dad. Bradley had trouble following what you were saying because you were talking really fast.

“Babe,” he tried to interrupt you, but you kept mumbling and pacing next to the bed, “Y/N, baby, calm down!”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to sit in front of him. His free hand cupped your cheek tenderly as he guided you into breathing to calm yourself down.

“Okay… mind explaining slower what is happening here ?”

You sighed and nodded before re-explaining the whole situation to him. “But they weren’t supposed to come here this early ! The surprise lunch for my mom was supposed to be at home, not in my flat ! And my dad is here. My dad ! What are we going to say ?”

You cursed again, rubbing your temples. Bradley took your hands in his to make you look at him and stole a kiss from you. You sighed against his lips, your tension going away slightly. He then pressed his forehead to yours, stroking your cheeks to soothe you.

“How about we get dressed and just… join them in the living room ?”

“You really want to face my dad ?” you raised one eyebrow, surprised but really relieved that he didn’t propose to just sneak out.

“Yeah ? I mean, the man already has doubts, you’ve said it yourself… and it’s your mother’s birthday, your whole army of men won’t be able to kill me. Not today at least.”

You chuckled at his joking tone and at the silly smile he has on his face. You pecked his lips with a grin. “Okay then Lieutenant , let’s get dressed.”

“Yes ma’am!”

He gave you one last tender kiss, and when the two of you went to get up, a little giggle made you both freeze.

“Auntie who that ? And why he nakey ?”

Your nephew’s voice asked. He was standing by the door, a playful smile on his chubby face, and his little finger pointing at your embarrassed boyfriend. Bradley quickly covered himself more, lifting the sheet at his chin, and you ran to get little Jack in your arms.

“How did he get here ??” Bradley scream-whispered at you, hiding himself while trying to get dressed.

“I don’t know !” you scream-whispered back before turning your attention back to the toddler who was babbling in your arms, “Jack, honey, why aren’t you with your dad and pop-pop ?”

Before he could answer, your sister in law was by your bedroom, apologizing. She didn’t notice Bradley right away, but when she did, a small cheeky smile curled on her lip.

“Hi there, sorry to have him interrupted you two.”

“Annie, it’s not what it looks like-” you blushed when you understood what she implied but Bradley interrupted you by presenting himself and shaking her hand with a wide smile. They chat while you put on a pair of jeans, keeping on Bradley’s tank top. Never in your life had you been this embarrassed.

Little Jack looked at your boyfriend with wide-eyed wonder. He loved meeting new people, and Bradley seemed fascinating to his young eyes. It was no wonder when every time Annie spoke to you, Bradley would make faces at the little boy and make him giggle.

Bradley already had him in his pocket, so that was a good thing. Annie seemed to like him too, at least you thought so from the mischievous looks she gave you.

As you crossed the hallway to join the rest of your family, a wave of nervousness ran through you. You grabbed Bradley by the sleeve of his Hawaiian shirt and turned him toward you. You pulled him into a hug to relax and to give yourself courage.

"Promise you won't hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They'll probably try to impress you, my brothers I mean... and my dad... you know how he can be..."

"Oh honey... It takes more than that to scare me. I'll be fine."

He kissed your forehead and you walked into the living room.

You greeted everyone, your father not immediately aware of Bradley's presence. You introduced him to your brothers first, Nathan, Aaron and Jamie, and they didn't do anything strange at first; they were probably waiting for you to introduce him to your father to see what sauce to cook him in.

Beau and Vivian, your mother, were too busy admiring your niece, five-month-old Juliet, to notice Bradley's presence. She was fast asleep in the arms of Jamie's fiancée, Alice. She greeted you with a smile when you waved.

"Awake at last, Stormy?" your father asked before freezing and losing his smile at the sight of your boyfriend, " Lieutenant Bradshaw. ".

His cold, hard tone made you sigh a little as the two men shook hands in greeting.

“Good morning Vice Admiral Simpson.”

They were way too formal, it was ridiculous. Your mother had the same reaction as you and introduced herself to Bradley with a warm smile and a hug.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Simpson."

"Oh, please, just call me Viv!" she laughed a little, waving her hand. Then she turned to you, discreetly gave you both thumbs up and winked at you.

Good. Bradley seemed to have charmed your mother with just a smile.

Still, you could feel your father tense up behind you as Bradley got to know everyone. He remained very polite and smiled, even letting Jack, Oliver and Tommy - Aaron's twin sons - pull him out to play in the little garden. Your father grabbed your arm. "Kitchen. Now. We need to talk." He seemed a little upset, and you could understand; you'd lied to him.

"Care to explain yourself?" He crossed his arms on his chest, a stern look on his face.

You didn't like that look. He used to have it when he scolded you when you were a teenager, when you would sneak out of the house to go to a party or to meet up with your then-boyfriend. For a moment, you were 16 again, caught in the act.

You sighed at his insistent and questioning look.

"I uh... He’s... we’re... we've been seeing each other for… a few weeks..."

"A few weeks? So you've been lying to me for weeks?"

"I haven't lied! At least not completely..." you mumbled, biting your fingernail.

"Y/N. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Seriously Dad? You've made it pretty clear that you don't really like him, I mean outside of work."

"I never said that."

You widened your eyes, shocked at his bad faith.

"Are you kidding me? You've made it clear that you don't want me around him because he's too much like Maverick! Every time I mentioned him, you made your… disapproving face. The same one you made every time I mentioned my old boyfriends, or when I wanted to get a motorcycle, or when the boys tried to bleach their hair in high school !"

"I don't have a disapproving face," he grumbled, "and it's not because he’s like Maverick that I don't want you around him, it's because he can be called back on a mission at any time. I don't want that to break your heart."

"Oh ! But it's okay for Nathan, Aaron, and Jamie to break the hearts of their partners? Of their children? It was okay for you to risk breaking Mom's heart and ours? What kind of cardboard argument is that, Dad?" You raised your arms in disbelief as you started to walk out of the kitchen, but you stopped and turned back to face him. "I know you want to protect me, but... you can't do that about things like that. I know you know better than anyone the risks of this job, the sacrifices it requires. But Bradley knows them as well, if not better, than you do. And as much as it scares me, as much as it scares us... we want to try… And even if you don't like it, we'll give it a try. Because I almost lost him once without really being able to be with him..."

Your father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. From the kitchen window you could see Bradley playing with your nephews, under your mother's and in laws’ amused and tender eyes. A small smile crept across your lips as the little ones called you over to help hold Bradley down. You hurried to join them, and your mother joined your father.

"Our boys and the little ones seem to like this Lieutenant…”

“Seems like it…”

“He reminds me a little of you when we first met..." Vivian chuckled to Beau as she hugged him.

"Really?" the man wondered, "and how?"

"Well, he has that same sparkle in his eyes... the one that calls for adventure, that gentle and loving look when his eyes land on our Storm... and he's also very good with children," she laughed at his slightly embarrassed expression, "You should give him a chance... our princess looks so relaxed with him... look at her… look at her smile…"

He lifted his head and watched the two of you having fun with the three little boys and sighed. His wife was right. You looked so happy in Bradley's arms, waltzing and laughing with the kids. He'd never seen you look so radiant, as cliché as it sounded. Your brothers also seemed to have accepted the newcomer without too much fuss. So Beau seemed to be the only one who was uncomfortable with the whole situation.

He nodded and kissed his wife on the forehead. "Okay, I'll try... but I'm not promising anything."

Vivian rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. She knew for a fact that your father would quickly accept Bradley as well.

Lunch went off without a hitch, Beau swallowing his pride not to be as awkward with Bradley as possible, although he did draw a few murderous looks from your father when he put his hand a little too high on your thigh or lower back. After dessert, he helped your brothers put the kids down for a nap and let them share the convertible bed in your little study. Your sisters-in-law and your brother-in-law, Evan - Aaron's husband - helped you with the dishes. They gently teased you that Bradley was a very handsome young man and that you had chosen well.

"I know I did. Look at you all, we Simpsons always have good taste," you sniped back with a wink and a teasing smile, making them laugh.

"Wait, wait, wait... So he was your regular booty call after your first assignment?" Evan seemed to realize. You shushed him and made sure that your parents didn't hear him say that. Annie laughed a little and grabbed your shoulder, making you look into her eyes.

"I can see why you qualified him as the best sex of your life after the upper body I saw this morning," she teased you again, making your face completely flush. You practically begged her to stop talking about your sex life, very embarrassed. But the three of them could be little bullies and they loved to tease you sometimes.

"Guys, please stop. If my father hears you-"

"Hear what, Stormy?"

You turned and paled a little under your father's cold gaze and tight smile. Your sister-in-law and brother-in-law took the opportunity to run off like teenagers, and of course Bradley arrived just then, smiling carelessly.

"The three cataclysms are finally asleep. Is everything okay in here?" he asked as he joined you in front of your father. He immediately wiped the smile off his face when he saw the look on Beau's face.

"You're lucky it's my wife's birthday, Bradshaw," he growled, his eyes staring straight into your souls, "but if I hear one more detail about your... nocturnal activities, I'm going to make sure that the two of you are as far away from each other as possible, even if it means sending one of you to Japan or Korea. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Bradley replied promptly, "Clear as day.”

"For God's sake, Dad, aren't you being a little extreme? I'm a responsible adult-"

"I'm warning you, I don't want another grandchild too soon. Keep it in your pants."

"Dad!!"

Just when you thought you couldn't get any more embarrassed, your dad had the right words. He left the two of you in the kitchen, muttering that he was getting too old for this.

"Oh my God..." You cursed as you hid your face in your hands and turned towards the sink. Of all the weird things that could happen, you'd really hoped no one would mention your sex life. You felt a little angry, but more than that, you were extremely embarrassed. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the counter as you lowered your head. You felt the warmth of Bradley's body enveloping you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his front against your back and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing, babe? I told you it would take more than that to scare me off... Maybe your dad hasn't fallen for the Bradshaw charm yet, but I'm working on it..." he tried to cheer you up, "And now I have an army of kids who love me, I can order them to defend me."

You smiled, amused at his silliness. "You're really good with kids, but I think it's them who will command you..."

"Maybe you're right," he laughed a little and kissed the hollow of your neck, his mustache tickling you, "but your mother has already adopted me. I'm protected."

You laughed with him, your embarrassment and anger disappearing. You leaned against him, enjoying the hug he offered you. These simple gestures were so comforting that it was almost frightening how quickly he could soothe you. You closed your eyes as he hummed and softly danced with you in the kitchen. It was so cliché, right out of a rom-com, but you couldn’t care less.

After a few minutes, you regained enough courage to join the rest of your family in the living room. Your in-laws gave you apologetic looks, and your brothers were a little lost, but didn't dare ask.

For the rest of the afternoon, Bradley learned every little anecdote your mother had to share; whether it was about your brothers, you, or even your father, she was more than happy to share with him. Jamie and Alice had fallen asleep in the garden, making your mother smile in awe. Nathan laughed a little with Aaron. "We warned them that a newborn was exhausting, but they insisted on coming here their own way...".

You laughed a little too, it was true they looked exhausted. But little Juliet was so cute that they forgot how tired they were.

Speaking of her, the baby phone warned everyone that she was waking up. You volunteered to warm her bottle and Bradley went to get her. Alice had put the travel crib in your room so the other three children would not be disturbed if Juliet woke up.

When the milk was at the right temperature, you joined Bradley in your room. Your cheeks flushed and you felt butterflies in your stomach when you saw him holding the little one. He rocked her gently, stroking her cheek with his index finger. He seemed so natural that it made you fall even more in love with him.

You shook your head, your father's voice echoing in your head: "No more grandchildren for now.”

You joined him and let him gently place the baby in your arms. You smiled and fed the hungry five-month-old in your arms. Bradley leaned against the doorframe and watched you with a soft smile. You, too, were a natural with children. Juliet seemed so comfortable in your arms and you seemed so relaxed. He found himself daydreaming about the two of you having children together. He blushed as he imagined you pregnant with his baby... and Nathan giggled behind him. "Calm your horses Bradshaw, you're not putting a baby in my sister anytime soon."

Bradley's face turned as bright red as yours. "Nathan, shut up!" you yelled-whispered at him, careful not to disturb the eating baby in your arms.

“What? You heard our old man, "No more grandchildren for now!”” Nathan grinned and put his arm around Bradley's shoulders.

"I can't promise that..." Bradley mumbled softly, mesmerized by the sight of you holding Juliet against you as you burped her after she had finished her bottle. Nathan's eyes widened and he tried his best not to burst out laughing. "What did you say, Brad’ ? I think I misheard you?"

You blushed as you realized what your boyfriend had just said.

"I... Nothing!" Bradley defended himself weakly, very embarrassed. Nathan teased him until your mother told him to stop, threatening him with no cake after dinner. He immediately stopped and went to get his son after whispering to Bradley that he wouldn't forget what he had just said. You decided not to talk about it, feeling a little embarrassed as well.

It wasn't long before dinnertime arrived, and your father was relaxed and talking with Bradley. You even caught them laughing together. This interaction was reassuring for the rest of the evening.

As usual, your mother had cooked for a regiment, and your refrigerator was full of leftovers. She made Bradley promise to stop by the family home and look at the family albums and your childhood bedroom. He laughed a little but agreed.

You walked everyone back to their cars, helped them with the kids' stuff, and your dad gave you one last hug and said good night. He said goodbye to Bradley with a slight smile and a quick hug.

When everyone was gone, you collapsed on your sofa, drained of all energy. Bradley joined you with a smile and pulled you right into his arms.

"That didn't go so badly after all..."

You nodded, yawned and put your arms around him. You thought back to the day that had just passed, to that roller coaster of emotions, and laughed a little.

"So... eager to put a baby inside me Lieutenant?"

"Oh my God Y/N!!" Bradley blushed, hiding his face behind his fists in total embarrassment. You laughed and teased him about it. You preferred to take it as a joke because neither of you were anywhere near ready to have children of your own, you both agreed on that. Or did you?

He turned to you, a serious expression on his face.

"And what if I am? Would you... would you be on board to have kids with me? Not right now, of course, but... I... I can't imagine a future without you in it, and I'd like to have kids with you. I know we haven't really been together that long, but we've known each other for a long time... and oh my God, I'm rumbling," he groaned, rubbing his face before looking back at you. "What I mean is that I love you and I don't want to live without you. Maybe it's rushed, maybe you-"

You interrupted him, pulled him by the collar and kissed him. You didn’t know what came over you; maybe it was the fact that he had just admitted his feelings, or the fact that he was already planning a life with you. Maybe both. Certainly both.

"I love you too," you whispered between two kisses, "and I don't want to be without you either... and I would love to start a family with you someday, Lieutenant Bradshaw..."

You smiled, your forehead pressed against his, and he chuckled in relief.

"Today was really like you... a storm..." he sighed, smiling and stroking your cheeks.

"I know... are you sure you can keep up with my family?" you teased, "Now that you've messed with the storm, the cyclone will never be far away."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Stormy."

#top gun maverick #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #beau simpson #family fluff #natasha trace #jake seresin #rober floyd #mickey garcia #pov second person #post movie top gun maverick

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monzamash · 1 year

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lost in japan — lando norris

lando norris x you (femreader) | 3.8k summary – a convincing late night call and a flight to japan. warnings – 18+ (sex, coarse language) inspo – ‘i like being close to you. you’re warm’ for the #monzamashspecial and that shawn mendes song – you know the one. masterlist

“Fly out and see me…”

“You know I can’t, Lando.”

This had been the back and forth for nearly half an hour, like a painfully long rally in tennis and neither one of you wanted to give up the point. Lando had been out in Japan for nearly a week, 5 days and counting and before that, Singapore and before that, Italy for training. He had always been at peace with the time he spent away from home, because up until now it had never really been a problem. Jet-setting across the globe, living out his childhood dream – on top of the world. Chained to nothing and nobody.

But then you showed up in those leather pants; it was all by coincidence and he was in trouble from the very beginning. He liked you. A lot. And you liked him but that one night on a breezy street corner in Melbourne had changed his perspective. Skewed beyond recognition, because now he had someone to miss. Someone who influenced his happiness, his contentedness and that was you. You had snapped up a spot in his cold, precious heart that he had guarded, locked away safely so he didn’t have to wake up to that sinking feeling in his gut, or look at his phone and have his mood drop when he didn't see your name in his notifications.

He was forlorn without you and even though it made him sick that he had ended up like this, he loved it. He took the good with the bad, every chance to hear your voice made it worthwhile and much to your surprise, you felt the same. Infatuated and swept up in this new romance.

“Why not? If you give me a really good answer, I’ll stop asking,” Lando bartered as he trudged around his hotel room, kicking articles of clothing towards his empty suitcase in an attempt to clean up the mess he’d made over the last couple of days.

“Well for starters I have this thing called a job… I have responsibilities and I have my houseplants – you know how much they mean to me.”

A small smirk tugged on the corners of your mouth when Lando rolled his eyes, brow quirked. Even the shaky camera was able to capture his distain for your answer but he quickly bounced back, knowing that he wasn’t completely out of the fight if it was a couple of replaceable pot plants keeping you from dropping everything to see him. Surely he meant more than that.

“You love me way more though.”

“Definitely not,” You scoffed playfully and adjusted the loose, somewhat revealing top you'd been sleeping in before this late night call, “But I do miss you a tiny bit…”

Lando’s frown softened at your confession, one he’d been patiently waiting to hear. I miss you too; he sighed and walked into what looked like a bathroom, carefully balancing the phone on a shelf beside the mirror.

He was an enigma the night that you met him; a friend of a friend of a friend, someone had said when introducing the two of you at a swanky restaurant in the heart of the city. You had wondered why there was a last minute invite sent your way that afternoon, until your friend explained that her new work friend wanted to show their friend who had just flown in from England a good time. It was a confusing web of acquaintances but you agreed, knowing that whatever she had organised would be worthwhile attending.

Little did you know that the friend would have something to do with why your street was shut down for a week, making your daily commute fifteen minutes longer than normal. But when you looked into those stormy blue, or maybe they were hazel eyes, and grasped the hand he was holding out for you to shake, you didn’t care. In fact, nothing really mattered after the two of you pulled up a seat at the long table and continued chatting, drawn together.

“See something you like? …”

Lando’s tinny voice pulled you out of your daydreaming and snapped your eyes back to your screen. You cleared your throat and tucked a couple of stray hairs behind your ear as you watched him change out of his Phoenix suns shirt; his rippling muscles contracting caught your attention, perfectly sculpted under is sun-kissed skin. Beneath all the boyish charm and dripping sarcasm, he was sexy. And it was taking everything in your power not to give in and book a plane ticket to Japan as soon as possible.

“Nothing in particular but I do like that shirt,” You deflected with a smirk, wanting nothing more than to be crawling your lips all over his skin, tasting the cool mint mouthwash he was swirling and spitting out in quick succession.

“Might have to steal it when I see you next.”

“Which will be…?” Lando teetered off, hoping for sooner rather than later but you simply shrugged and closed your eyes, exhaling so deeply that a whistle rang through your nostrils.

Lando could tell you were battling internally with the idea, knowing that you wanted to see him just as much as he ached to see you. It’d been too long and with your situationship being so new, so hot – he was desperate to lock in a time or have at least a crumb to cling onto if nothing else. But he needed to be gentle, patient while you worked through all of the metaphorical plates spinning in your head.

“You can steal all of my shirts when you get here,” He sweetly stated, his attention full focused on your solemn expression, “Look, what day suits you the best and I’ll work around that.”

He was serving the ball in your court now, with the promise of taking care of everything else so you didn’t even have to think about it. Make the fleeting decision and the rest will be sorted. Except for the glaringly obvious hurdles you’d have to jump over to get the time off work that you knew Lando wanted you to have.

“Maybe Saturday…”

Lando groaned at your response, “But I’ll be busy all day Saturday.”

“Doing what?” You teased; lip firmly gripped between your front teeth as Lando rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his messy hair in frustration.

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” He grumbled and titled his head back, chin and jawline tensed as he groaned loudly into the dark bedroom he was sitting in, “Come on – I’m blue-balling out here and you’re not here to help me… It's not fair.”

“Oh, so you just want me for sex?”

Lando’s eyes narrowed and a small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he planned his next move, “No,” He sheepishly whispered, “But also not no… But definitely not just for sex because that would be wildly perverse and disgusting – promise.” Cheeky fucker.

You hummed, “Just so we’re clear, I’d just be coming out for the sex. Nothing more than that – can’t stand you, actually. Absolutely gross.”

Not even a beat passed before Lando's loud, high-pitched laugh filtered through your air pods, hand barely covering his face. The other was in your face, middle finger perfectly framed on your screen while you sat back and enjoyed the sound you’d missed so much; his laugh alone made you chuckle and forget all about your worries.

“Fuck you,” He cheekily retorted, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes, “But what I’m hearing is that you’re coming out… I’m booking you a ticket right now so keep an eye out for the email, baby.”

Baby.

“Baby?” You asked, eyebrow quirked with intrigue.

“Shit, sorry…” Lando cursed under his breath, cheeks reddening as he clicked away on his phone, “It slipped out. Is it bad?”

You shook your head and balanced your chin on your knuckles, “No, I like it – makes me feel like we’re more than just strangers fucking around.”

“Oh yeah? And is that something you want to feel or?”

Now he was just being cocky.

It was your turn to roll your eyes and scowl, “Don’t push it, baby.”

“You can’t go calling me that with that tone and not be naked in this bed right now… You’re killing me.” His voice was strained, eyes dark.

You simply smiled and winked, “I will be soon.”

“Cannot fucking wait.”

It was raining in Osaka when you landed; the red eye flight causing your eyes to flutter close as you slumped in the back seat of the cab, silent. Bright headlights from the heavy traffic flashed behind your eyelids as the driver slowly made his way through the city streets, stopping every two seconds for pedestrians. You were in a foreign country; one you’d never visited before but you felt calm, safe to completely relax after the tenuous eleven hour flight.

Lando had messaged you the address to the hotel he was staying at and let you know he’d left his spare key card for you downstairs at reception. You shyly asked the attendant for the card he left, feeling a little dirty at the insinuation that you were there for a good time, not a long time. A thought entirely in your own head as the young lady gave you a polite smile and sent you on your way.

Because of Lando’s efforts to go above and beyond making your journey as stress-free as possible, you hadn’t bothered messaging him when you landed or even checked to make sure he was at the hotel. Only having carry-on gave you the freedom to jump off the plane and into a cab – no time to really think about the logistics that you had been reassured were taken care of. All you could think about was the instinctual pull you felt to get to him as quickly as you could.

Maybe you should’ve messaged. Given him the heads up as you tiptoed through the long hallway, past the large lounge room and kitchen that was bigger than your own back home. It was massive and as expected, exuding luxury. You could tell from the facetime yesterday that he was living large in the penthouse suite, indulging in all the lavish things life as a professional athlete promised. It was too much but you weren’t complaining when you touched the plush robes hung up on the back of the bedroom door or when you saw how huge, and enticing the bed was.

You let your mind wander to the possibility that maybe, just maybe you could get used to this but as soon as that thought emerged, you flicked it away. The gentle sound of running water echoing drew your attention to the door on the other side of the room, closed and most likely locked for privacy, or so you assumed.

Your feet were gliding you towards the sound, hand reaching for the handle before your brain had even registered what you were doing. Impatience and temptation were fuelling all of your movements as you clicked open the door and let out a cloud of steam, warmth instantly hitting your face as you took a couple of steps over the threshold.

“Hello?” You softly called out, not wanting to startle Lando but failing as you heard a shallow gasp from behind the steamed glass. His hand hit the pane and smudged away the moisture obstructing his sight, his narrowed eyes bloodshot from the water but he could see you, wondered for a second if you were a ghost in the fog but grinning when he realised you were here. Really here.

“Holy shit…” He breathed out and pushed open the glass door, thrilled that you were already unzipping your jeans and tugging the tight shirt from your shoulders. He didn't even have to ask.

“You scared the absolute shit out of me.”

He almost giggled as you skirted your underwear down your legs, the cool air sending chills down across your skin, “Let me in, quick!”

Lando moved aside with another chuckle, hands grasping your waist as you searched for warmth, a sigh of relief exhaled when you felt the hot water rushing over your back, eyes closed and skin tingling from the gentle touches trailing down your spine. You fluttered your eyes open; smile etched on your face as you looked up and took in your surroundings. Took in him.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

Lando whispered back as you reached out and placed your hands on his chest that was glimmering with water droplets the same size of his birth marks and freckles. Misshapen and lovely. The scent of lemon and sandalwood mingling together filled the air, his skin still slick and soapy from being interrupted mid-shower but he didn't care. Not one bit.

Your fingers danced across his beating heart, tracing small circles on his shoulder before gazing up through your lashes, smile coy.

“I made it…”

“You did… and you’re real,” So real he could feel you and see, for the first time in over a month, how you reacted to his touch.

“How are you real?”

“That’s way too philosophical for my mushy brain so just shut up and kiss me, please,” You teased, tone soft and arms snaking around his waist to bring his body closer; chest stuck perfectly against yours.

“That I can do,” Lando sang back as he grasped your slack jaw in his hands and pulled you in, lips tied in a wistful kiss.

It wasn’t an ordinary kiss. It was a Lando kiss, which up until this point in your life you’d never experienced before now. You felt sparkly, giddy yet set alight, burning with desire – all rolled into one wild emotion. At first you mistook it for lust, merely a physical attraction that would slowly fade away, never felt again. But it was lust disguised when you felt it for the second time and then the third and forth time, the fifth and so on.

The feeling never faded and remained even when you were miles away, kissing through the phone and pretending you were together, touching one another. Chasing that feeling over and over again.

His lips moved so perfectly with yours, in sync and the taste on his tongue reminded you of a warm summers day down on the beach, cocktail in one hand and his fingers intertwined in the other. It was visceral and destined, like you’d kissed him a million times before; but what you were doing with him was all so new, so fresh, so fucking exhilarating that you hadn’t even realised he’d moved his lips to your neck, the soft spot beneath your ear being gently nibbled by his sharp teeth.

“You smell so good... like the first night we fucked,” Lando mumbled against your supple skin, eliciting the tiniest whimper to slip from your parted lips as he brushed the palms of his hands over your perky nipples.

“Hello to you,” He whispered, pressing a soft, smirking kiss to the top of your left boob before moving to the right, “And hello to you.”

“Oh my god,” You groaned at his words, barely slapping his bicep but still making him flinch, as his breathy giggle fanned across your chest, “Such a dork.”

Lando removed his lips, reluctantly and stood up straight again, slightly towering over your smaller frame, “I remember you saying that you liked that about me…” He defended and suggestively winked, slowly walking you out from underneath the stream of water and towards the shower wall.

“I think it came up when you were touching yourself and moaning my name… Maybe? Can’t quite recall,” He toyed, knowing exactly what had happened last week when you texted him, ‘call me asap’ in the middle of the night.

“You are doing a lot of talking for a guy who replied with ‘I’m watching the new episode of Mandalorian, can’t call’, after I sent you a photo of me literally naked… You know what, maybe I should leave you hanging, now that you’ve so kindly brought it up.”

The whiny protest and strain in Lando’s eyes softened when he felt your hand graze his thigh, fingernails lightly scratching the skin so close to where he had been aching for you. He gasped at the sensation, starved of anyone’s touch besides his own for far too long. Your eyes met in the middle, a humorous smile twitching on the ridge of your mouth when he sucked in a deep breath and his bottom lip with it as you wrapped your hand around him, twisting gently.

Long strokes sent his eyelashes fluttering shut as he pushed you against the wet titled wall; skin slapping as your back made contact. His head was titled back from the pleasure coursing through his veins, somehow still attached to his body as he let out a strangled moan. He couldn’t think straight – the words magnificent and mind-blowing tumbling around his empty head until he heard a squeak and cracked open his eyes to see you turning around, hands pressed against the crimson tiles.

He noticed a hunger burning behind your stare when you glanced over your shoulder, ass brushing over his cock like a woman starved.

“I’ve been dreaming about this ever since I left your place in London,” You confessed as Lando dipped his head and trailed open-mouthed kisses down your back, "Think about it so much."

“Fuuuck,” He grumbled as you rolled your hips steadily, stroking him between your slightly parted thighs with a raspy moan, “Shower sex specifically?”

Lando’s question was punctuated with his tip nudging forward, gliding over your clit before sinking slowly into your warmth with a gruff exhale, “Shiiit.”

A soft giggle slipped from your lips as you leaned forward and rested your forehead against the wall, droplets of water dripping down the ceramic onto your flushed cheeks. Chills crawled down your spine as Lando roughly grasped your hips, fingertips kneading the skin as he slowly fucked into you.

“Shower sex had crossed my mind but honestly, I imagined it all…”

“Did it feel this good?” Lando asked with a knowing smile on his lips as he rocked into you, slow and steady, sensing that the occasion called for something gentle, "Because it didn't in my imagination." You shook your head and grasped his wrist, needing to feel his large hand on your stomach, “Not even close, baby… I want it all.”

Hearing you stake your claim for his heart and hint that maybe you wanted more than just a couple of one night stands strung together sent a surge of serotonin through Lando's hazy mind. It may have started that way; a subtle mention of 'no strings attached' so you could both keep your hearts safe but the countless hours talking on the phone, venting about your day as if you’d known each other for years proved that it was more. The way his touch set every inch of your skin alight proved to you that he was more.

He was the match to your fuse.

A gasp slipped from your lips when he pulled out, the emptiness feeling like a punishment for god knows what but Lando was quick to spin you around and pin your back against the cold wall, “Need to change it up otherwise we’ll be calling it a night very early.”

“Can’t handle the heat?” You teased, hoisting your leg to wrap around his thigh as he stretched you out again; eyes closing for a split second to adjust to his firm thrust.

“Oh, I’m doing great, pretty girl. Dunno about you though...” Lando whispered the last part as his hand skimmed down between your legs, thumb gliding over your sensitive nub ever so lightly – enough to have you hissing in pleasure.

“I am going so good..." You exhaled, trying to keep your cool but the scrunched up brows and slack jaw exposed you and he couldn't help but admire how fucking beautiful you looked meeting his snapping hips, deliciously synchronised .

"Keep touching me like that.”

You unclasped your claws that were digging into Lando's muscular biceps and slung your arms loosely over his shoulders, chest to chest and you could feel his heart beating. It was pumping under the taut skin, thrumming against your own as he rocked his hips into you, long, teasing strokes that were clouding your mind with all sorts of dangerous thoughts.

“I like being this close to you. You’re so warm and soft and god…” He rambled off with a moan and a gritted smile as you opened your eyes and held his face in your hands, smiling back.

“I like it too.”

The words got tangled in your throat as your nails dug into the back of his head, the pace now quickening to a level you’d never really been before with Lando. Sure, you'd had sex but this was different. It was pent up, building to an unparalleled crescendo that was washing over the both of you quicker than expected. Loud moans being swallowed in a desperate kiss, hands fumbling to grab hold of any inch of skin they could to pull you through your earth shattering high. Screams muted by the sound of running water.

And all you could do was ride it out while Lando held you upright, palms shaky and fingertips barely holding on as he dipped his head into the crook of your neck; curls tickling the sultry skin. The air was thick, humidity making everything sticky as your erratic breaths rattled against one another; chests connected, limbs tangled together as you stood under the water.

Wow, was all Lando rasped with no attempt of untangling himself from your embrace until your trembling fingers traced down his back, nails dragging over his supple skin finall brought him into your vision once again. Eyes misty and tired.

“I’m really pruny.” He stated and held up his wrinkling hand; a shy smile appeared on his plush lips as you laced your fingers with his.

You hummed and tucked a couple of the damp curls that had fallen into his face behind his pointy ears, “Shall I suggest continuing this on that massive fucking bed sitting in the middle of a room that’s bigger than my apartment?”

Lando chuckled and ghosted a soft, heart-racing kiss to your pursed lips as he reached for the towel he’d set out for himself, “It’s stupid how massive it is,” He bashfully confessed, wrapping your shivering body up and guiding you out to the warm bedroom.

“It’s… Lavish and maybe a little silly.”

There was comfortable silence as you glanced around the room again, noticing the pile of clothes that Lando had been kicking around on your call yesterday, “Yeah, sorry about the mess. I was gonna clear up but I didn’t expect you to get in so early tonight – I'm bad with time zones and all that shit.”

“Well you have a lot to keep track of with all the travelling so that’s understandable and don’t worry about the clothes, my floor is ten times worse than this.”

There was something familiar in the way you soothed his nerves and made his anxieties melt away with your words. He liked that about you, that no matter what stupid thing he’d said or done, you were either backing him up or affectionately ribbing him before mollifying his worries.

“Can’t wait to see it in person soon,” Lando blurted out, not even thinking about whether that was something you wanted or if your reassuring words warranted that intense of a response.

But you smiled and nodded, again, easing his blushing cheeks that were still burning from his high only minutes ago. There was a comfortable silence as you stood up from the end of the bed and let him bury you in one of the big, fluffy robes you’d noticed on your way in – the gold italic ‘H’ shining under the down lights as you tied the belt up, watching Lando do the same.

“Very soon, I hope.”

You sealed the promise with a kiss to his bottom lip, praying that you could be more than just a stranger he’d met by happenstance. More than an acquaintance who was simply a way to pass the time while he was away from home. Away from his creature comforts.

And if he did need you in his life like you needed him, then you definitely wanted to be his friend. Maybe more.

a//n – really been feeling the lando bug recently so let me know what you thought of this little one-shot! this will actually be the last of the #monzamashspecial celebrating 700 followers and funnily enough, i just passed 1k this morning, i think? so thank you all so much for the support. i still have a couple of great suggestions that i will get to next so keep an eye for that x masterlist | askbox

#lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #formula 1 imagine #f1 writing #monzamashmasterlist #the monzamash special #lost in japan fic

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