#navy's naughty & nice nonsense | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dangerousconnoisseurdonut · 3 years

Text

Curse of Loki preview (F/F/m)

On AO3, I have a request for a Tickle Fic, something I have toyed with for years, but never had the guts to do until now. I realize tickling isn’t everyone’s kink, but please be kind as this is my first attempt. I am posting a preview here to get a feel if I’m doing this right.

Now, context! Bruce has been sent a horn with Norwegian Runes all over it. What he doesn’t know is that this is the Horn of Loki, the Trickster God and causes... interesting results between the recipient and their enemies. In this case, Bruce and the Rogues of Gotham. After he has blown the horn, he gets the urge to go into the city and winds up at Selina’s flat, not realizing that she has a guest at the minute and... well, here goes nothing.

“Relax, Bruce, I just wanted to lounge around for a change; Tabitha and Barbara got me this on my last birthday. Do you like it?” Selina gave a little pose and Bruce did his best to keep his eyes on her face where they belonged and not drawn to her cleavage which he had never seemed to notice before. It was darker than magenta, somewhere between sangria and mulberry, with pink cherry blossoms scattered on it; it was indeed beautiful, but Bruce was wishing at the moment she had something on underneath as he could see her breasts, including her perky nipples.

“Bruce?” Selina asked with a shit-eating grin as though she had a damn good idea why he hadn’t answered her, causing his blush to deepen as he responded,

“Nice! It’s very, uh, very nice!”

“I think the naughty boy was eyeing your tits, Cat.” Bruce whirled around at the sound of another female, only to find Bridgit Pike waltzing into the room in another bathrobe, this one somewhere between navy and indigo, with white orchids. He was struck by how attractive she was, even with the scars on her face and what he could see of her body; her hair was long, though there was none where her face had been burned, and her smile was one of the, pardon the pun, cat who got the canary. He felt himself harden as he suddenly felt very much like a canary.

“Uh, I’m uh, sorry for interrupting you two, I’ll just, um, I’ll just -” Bruce was shocked when Bridgit grabs the lapel of his jacket and pulls him to her so she can kiss him. As he and Bridgit make-out, he feels Selina grab his jacket and pull it off of him. Bruce however gets a moment of clarity and pulls away as Selina pulls his button up partially off, ripping a few of the buttons off and trapping his arms in the sleeves.

“W-wait a minute, what are y-you -?” Bruce just about jumped out of his skin when Selina dug her fingers into his underarms, causing him to almost bite his tongue off as he fought not to laugh.

“Naughty boys need to be punished, but we don’t want to hurt you so, Selina and I think you need a good laugh; not to sound like Jerome, but you are way too serious.” Bridgit explains as she lightly runs her fingers over his ribs. Bruce doesn’t say anything, knowing the minute he opens his mouth he’ll start laughing and won’t be able to stop. He hadn’t been tickled since he was seven, and he had forgotten how much he hated it. Selina and Bridgit start leading him to Selina’s bed, digging their fingers into his ribs or underarms when he tries to struggle. Bruce is almost crying from the exertion it’s taking to not laugh. When it comes time to get him on the bed, they move quickly to get Bruce’s arms out from the shirt, and tied down using some scarves. For his legs, Bridgit sits on Bruce’s stomach and switches between his underarms and stomach, not letting him get used to either sensation as Selina wrestles him out of his shoes, pants, underwear, and socks before tying his legs down. Bridgit stopped for a moment, enjoying seeing Bruce struggle to contain his laughter, as Selina went to get something.

“P-please Bridgit, I, I’m sorry I looked at Selina’s breasts; you’re both so pretty I couldn’t help it, but I’m so sorry for being a pervert and -mmph!” Bruce was cut off as Bridgit again kissed him, and he moaned a little as she played with his nipples before Selina came back.

“Starting without me?”

“I’ve never seen a guy apologize so much for sneaking a peak at a boob before.” Bridgit explained as she petted Bruce’s locks, something he actually seemed to enjoy.

“I told you; he’s an odd one but can actually be kind of sweet, like a puppy.” Selina said as she resumed her position at his feet, making him worry about what she planned to do.

“Well, even cute puppies have to be disciplined when they do something naughty, but since he seems so sincere with his apology, I think we can give him a little reward afterwards.” Bruce went to beg again, only for Bridgit to lightly trail her fingers up to his underarms, prompting him to keep his mouth shut and bite his lips.

“Gotta warn you handsome; we won’t stop until we hear you laugh. Why not make it easy on yourself and just let it out?” Bruce shook his head, causing Bridgit to sigh before smirking as she dug her fingers into his underarms and Selina tickled his thighs, a place he didn’t even think was ticklish but Selina just had to prove him wrong. He giggled, chortled, and snorted behind closed lips, but still refused to out and out laugh, even when Bridgit switched to his stomach and Selina tickled his knees (seriously, knees could be a ticklish spot?). Though, when one of Bridgit’s fingers got close to his navel, he almost lost control, though sadly he knew Bridgit had seen it for what it was when she got a wicked gleam in her eyes before saying,

“He’s a tough nut to crack, Cat; I think we better up our game.” Selina released a very put-upon sigh as she responded,

“You asked for this Bruce.” Bridgit leaned over as Selina also stopped to get something, though just what Bruce could not see. When Bridgit pulled back, she held what appeared to be a makeup brush, making Bruce wander just what was she going to do with that. He wasn’t allowed to worry about it however as Selina grabbed the toes of his right foot and stretched them back as far as they would go, leaving his arch taut. He got the uneasy feeling he was about to face his Waterloo. Bridgit then leaned down and placed the brush on his stomach and started a slow spiral edging closer and closer to his navel. Soon, it was tracing the navel itself, and Bruce was shaking so bad with suppressed laughter, he thought he was going to pass out. Those soft, silky bristles felt like dragons teeth on his sensitive stomach. Bridget looked him straight in the eye, amber into green, and asked,

“Does our naughty pretty boy have a ticklish belly button?” Before Bruce could confirm or deny, Bridgit dug the makeup brush right into his navel to swirl it around same time as Selina lightly ran her nails up his foot. Actually, to Bruce’s horror, he realized Selina was wearing her gloves with the claws on them, and they were what she was lightly dragging up and down his foot. At the twin sensations, Bruce didn’t stand a chance and finally burst out,

“Hahahaha! P-please s-s-stop! I, I c-can’t t-t-take this!” Bruce hated how he was reduced to stuttering, but the girls were just too good. Selina kept her touch light to make sure her claws didn’t accidentally pierce the skin, but that didn’t make it any less intense as she used one claw to draw nonsensical patterns along his sole, first lines going up and down, then spirals on the ball and heel of his foot, then zig-zags across his arches. Bridgit meanwhile kept switching between the brush and her her finger digging into his navel. Sometimes, just to spice things up, she would use the brush on his navel while digging her fingers into his underarm. Her dual sensations of sharp and soft were driving him up the wall. Once, she even ran the brush over his nipple and as the silky smooth bristles ran along his slightly swollen nub, he didn’t know if he wanted to moan or bite his tongue off.

“You know, Bruce, for a guy who runs around as much as you do, you have really soft feet.” Selina casually remarked before she gave into temptation and ran her tongue up the sole in front of her, enjoying Bruce’s bucking as he almost screamed,

“S-Selina! P-pl-please s-stop! Hahahaha!” Bridgit then found a similar urge over taking her so she leaned down and ran her tongue along Bruce’s underarm, relishing in the squeal Bruce couldn’t hold back as she licked and nipped at the smooth skin there.

“Isn’t Bridgit beautiful, Bruce?” Selina asked before she nipped at his arch and soothed it with her tongue.

“V-v-very b-b-beautiful!” Bruce had started laughing so hard, he was actually crying a bit.

“Why don’t you show her how beautiful you think she is by eating her out?” As though convincing him of the idea, she tickled one sole with her claws and licked the other one, going so far as to take his pinky toe into her mouth and run her tongue all around it.

“A-anything y-you w-w-want!” Bruce was almost convinced he was having an out of body experience from the sensations. He took in a huge breath when they stopped while Bridgit moved to sit on his face, though he was surprised when she turned around so she would be facing Selina.

“If you think I’m going to stop tickling you and making you do that cute little laugh of yours, you’re as nuts as Selina says you are. Besides, this gives me better access to your cute little belly button.” Bruce whimpered before leaning forward to her center; he hadn’t had much practice with this, but he remembered a few drunken fumblings with Grace, and she directed him to what she liked and didn’t like, though this time he was hindered by only having his tongue and he was at the wrong angle to reach her clit. Still, he started by gently licking her inner lips with little nips here and there, and he heard her give a little moan.

“Looks like you haven’t been training your puppy enough Selina; he’s very shy, but seems like he’s -ah!- trying.” Bridgit stroked his hip as she spoke, and Selina smirked as she responded,

“Maybe we should encourage his tongue a bit more by way of example?” ‘Oh no, what now?’ Bruce whimpered before almost dislodging Bridgit when he bucked like a bronco at the feeling of tongues on his most ticklish spots. Selina repeated the action of putting his toes in her mouth and running her tongue and now teeth around them as she dragged her claws along the arch. Bridgit meanwhile leaned down and used her fingers to spider up and down his stomach as she stuck her tongue in his navel and swirled it around before nipping at the skin around it. As he laughed at such intense sensations, Bridgit moaned at the vibrations, causing her own tongue to vibrate in his navel, which made it tickle even more. He wondered about the heat that had started bubbling up in his stomach from all this; was he becoming aroused from being these powerful girls little tickle and sex toy?

#gotham #tickling #bruce wayne #selina kyle #bridgit pike

9 notes · View notes

sincerelybluevase · 6 years

Text

Fanfic: New Year’s Eve

This is a present for @lovetheturners. Since she wrote the great AU Unexpected, I’ve written her an AU Turnadette. @thatginchygal came with the idea, though she said a drabble would do. I’m afraid it has quite run away with me ;). TW: None

Shelagh hadn’t planned on visiting her colleague at New Year’s Eve unannounced, but she hadn’t planned on her apartment being damaged due to a fire started by her neighbours, either. Now, she stood in front of Doctor Turner’s door, willing herself to ring the bell. She had somehow expected him to live in a bigger house, maybe Victorian or Edwardian. Instead, he lived in a modern apartment.

“He doesn’t need much, it just being him and Timothy,” she told herself. “Not since his wife died in a car crash years ago. Like my mother.” She shifted her bag from one hand to the other, inhaled deeply, and rang. It took roughly two minutes before the door opened. Doctor Turner’s eyes – those delightful hazel eyes that she could surely drown in, would she let herself- widened in surprise as he took her in.

“Nurse Mannion,” he said, “Is something wrong? Am I needed at the hospital?” His hair was delightfully ruffled. He wore a smart button-down shirt that matched his navy jeans. There was a stain on the collar. The sleeves were rolled up, showing off his arms dusted with dark hair.

Shelagh blushed and lowered her eyes, trying not to get distracted by the bit of hair that was visible on his chest; he hadn’t done up all buttons. “No, Doctor Turner. It’s just that… There was a fire in my apartment block. Nothing too serious,” she added as his eyes grew big, “but there was a lot of smoke. None of the tenants are allowed to go back tonight, and I had nowhere else to go, with my family living in Scotland, and all the trains already departed… and I suppose I could’ve gone to one of the nurses, but I don’t expect they’re home, not at New Year’s Eve…”

“Of course. Come in,” he said, stepping aside to admit her entrance.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Her glasses fogged over in the hallway. Her cold fingers struggled with the buttons on her coat.

“Are you all right? Nothing damaged?” Doctor Turner asked.

“No, I’m perfectly fine. I don’t know about the apartment, though.”

“Here, let me take that,” the doctor said, taking the bag from her. His work-roughened thumb brushed her knuckles. She shivered.

“This doesn’t weigh anything,” he said.

“I didn’t have time to pack anything much,” she said. “I just took my phone, my toothbrush, and some clothes. Oh, and my Bible.” It had her name embossed in gold on the cover. Her mother had given it to her when she turned five. She took her glasses from her nose and wiped them on her scarf.

“Wise choices, Nurse,” he said. She couldn’t be sure, not without her glasses, but he seemed to wink at her. “Let me put the kettle on,” he said, and disappeared into the house.

“I’m really awfully sorry. I’m sure this isn’t how you planned on spending your evening,” Shelagh said as she trailed after him.

“I was going to spend it watching awful films, drinking alcohol, and eating too much chocolate and Turkish Delight,” he said from the kitchen, “so your visit is a most welcome distraction, really.”

“What about Timothy?” Sometimes, the doctor took his six year-old son with him to the hospital, when there was no one who could mind the child. Shelagh loved sitting with Timothy. She had a set of coloured pencils and crayons in her locker just for him.

“He’s in bed. Poor mite was tired as you won’t believe. I promised to wake him just before the new year starts. He wants to see the fireworks,” Doctor Turner said. “We can wake him as I show you the guest bedroom.” He fiddled with his sleeves, pushing them up further. He had a band aid on one of his hands, those big hands that had brushed hers just a moment ago, that would probably fit perfectly over…

Stop it.

“Can I help?” Shelagh asked, dawdling on the threshold into the kitchen.

The electric kettle had started humming. The counter was full of dirty dishes; plates with half-eaten slices of pizza, mugs with coffee that looked like it had solidified, forks that stuck to pans…

“I haven’t had time to clean that yet,” Doctor Turner murmured, turning away from her. She still saw the flash of crimson that shot into his face, though. He stacked some plates together, looked at some of the cups to see if there were two that he could still use.

“It’s a job for two, anyway,” she said. She pulled her jumper over her head, threw it on one of the kitchen chairs, and filled the sink with hot water. “Better not get that plaster of yours wet,” she said. She opened one of the cabinets, found a pair of rubber gloves, and put them on.

“You don’t have to,” he said as she tried to prise some spaghetti off a plate.

“Nonsense. I feel bad enough for coming here in the first place,” she said.

“Don’t,” he replied.

She looked up, her eyes locking with his. Another shiver climbed up her spine. Doctor Turner – she could’ve looked up his first name on Facebook, but she’d felt that it was something he should offer her herself, as if it was a gift- swallowed. There was a wrinkle next to his mouth. She wanted to reach out and smooth it with her thumb, but she was holding a plate. Besides, she was wearing yellow rubber gloves.

She dunked the plate in the hot, soapy water. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can get back to your couch and chocolates,” she quipped, praying he’d think her red cheeks were due to the steaming water.

“You make me wish I’d actually gotten something decent to eat, like olives and cheese, or those little sausages they always seem to have at cocktail parties,” Doctor Turner said. She handed him the cleaned plate so he could dry it.

“I’m a vegetarian,” she said.

“Oh.” He put the dried plate away, then walked to the fridge and opened it. “How do you feel about… half a jar of pickles, some onions in vinegar, and half a bell pepper?” He took the bell pepper out of the fridge and grimaced. “Scratch the bell pepper,” he said, and dropped it in the trash.

“I like pickles,” she reassured him. She put another wet mug on the rack to dry.

“I’ve also got milk and cereal, or some stale biscuits.”

“And chocolates and a box of Turkish Delight,” she said.

“Half a box, but yes. Praise my patients.” He grinned. “And a bottle of very good red wine, if you’re feeling up to it, Nurse Mannion. What do you say? Is it a night to imbibe?”

“Unless you propose we become completely decadent and drink it straight from the bottle, we really need to get these dishes done.”

“We’re not that naughty yet, I suppose,” he said. He took up the towel and started drying.

“Naughty Nurse Mannion and Devious Doctor Turner,” she joked.

He winked, which turned her insides liquid. She blushed some more, and wished she’d put on something else than her scuffed boots, a pair of faded jeans, and a ratty jumper. The T-shirt she wore under it had a permanent ketchup stain at the bottom, but she’d tucked her shirt into her jeans, so she was pretty sure the doctor wouldn’t see.

Do stop it, she told herself. It was one thing to have a massive crush on her colleague, to have it for months and months, and to go to him because there was nowhere else to go, but quite another to go breathless and giggly and ridiculous any time he did something nice. Like touching her hand. Or winking. Or pushing those sleeves a little higher. Some nights when she woke up and felt alone, she’d think of his face, of his pleasant voice and big hands, till a tiny throb started between her legs and she was quite breathless.

“I prefer pickles over onions,” she stammered.

“And chocolate over Turkish Delight?”

She nodded.

“What a perfect pair we make,” he said, and smiled.

I know, she thought.

***

After the dishes were clean and gleaming and returned to their proper places, Shelagh and Doctor Turner crashed on the couch. It was a leather one –“leather is a lot more forgiving with spilled juice”- in a rich blue. Doctor Turner had put some pickles on a plate, and chocolates and Turkish Delight on another. Shelagh chose one shaped like a Christmas stocking and ate it slowly as she nursed her cup of tea.

“What do you want to watch? There’s plenty of films on the telly tonight, but we can always go to Netflix and pick another one.”

“Which ones are on right now?”

Doctor Turner took out his phone. “Come and have a look,” he said. She had to scoot over and sit next to him to do it. Her hair brushed his face. She pushed a tendril behind her ear, stubbornly training her eyes on the small screen of his smartphone. She could feel his breath gently ghosting past her cheek, though, could feel the heat of his jean-clad leg as it almost pressed against hers. He wore some spicy aftershave that had almost worn off during the day; only the base note lingered now. It had mixed with the detergent they used in the hospital, and with something else that Shelagh couldn’t name.

“There’s a romantic comedy you might like,” he said, voice hushed since she was so near him.

We sound like conspirators, or lovers.

“Would you like that?” he murmured.

He could put his arm around me. I could turn my face to his, and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him…

“Kiss me,” she said.

He blinked, his long lashes throwing feathered shadows on his cheekbones. “What?”

“Kiss me, Kate. It’s one of the films that’s on tonight,” she stammered, blushing. “See?” She pointed to his phone.

“Ah. Well, let’s watch that, then.” He stood up to grab the remote control. Shelagh felt the loss of his warmth and scent keenly. She kicked her boots off, tucked her feet under her, and hugged herself.

Doctor Turner sat down farther from her than before. She thought she saw his fists uncurl then tighten again from the corner of her eye, as if he wanted to do something with them, as if he wanted to touch her. She might have been wrong, though.

***

The film ended at half past eleven. Doctor Turner stretched as soon as the credits started to roll. His joints popped. He winced and rubbed his shoulders. “Don’t ever get old, Nurse Mannion. It wreaks havoc on your joints.”

“You’re not old,” she softly scolded him.

“Older than you, at any rate.”

“A lot of the doctors at the hospital are. Now, I’ll go and use the ladies’ room, if you don’t mind,” she said, getting up from the couch with joints that didn’t creak.

“The bathroom is up the stairs, first door on your left.”

“I’ll deposit my toothbrush there for later, then. Thanks.” She zipped her bag open, took out her toothbrush and deodorant, and made for the bathroom.

The Turner household had and old-fashioned tub on gilded legs. The spout had the shape of a lion’s head. Shelagh stroked it, then applied some fresh deodorant and studied herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed. She touched them with her fingertips, feeling the warmth seep from skin to skin. She’d have to wish the doctor a happy new year in less than half an hour. If they’d already woken Timothy, that might mean she would not get carried away by her own romantic feelings. Afterwards, she would slip into the guestroom, put on her pyjamas, and try to sleep in an unfamiliar bed. Hopefully, she would be able to move back into her apartment tomorrow. She didn’t want to put the doctor out, and hotels were rather expensive at this time of year. She could always ask one of the nurses if she could stay with them, she supposed.

“It’s just one night,” she told her reflection. Good thing, too; she hadn’t brought much clothes with her. There was only what she wore now, and clean underwear, another T-shirt, and her pyjamas. She could hardly let the doctor see her in those, though. Just thinking of the lacey nightdress made her blush. It had been a bit of a lark when she’d bought it, egged on by Trixie and the other nurses. Her real pyjamas had been in need of a wash, though, and there had been so little time to pick what to bring and what to leave behind…

She took care of her bursting bladder, washed her hands, and went back to the living room. She stopped dead on the threshold.

Doctor Turner was holding up her rather daring nightgown and staring at it with knit eyebrows, his mouth a little ‘o’. Blood shot to her cheeks. She marched in and snatched it from his hands, stuffing it in her bag. The silk slithered over her hands. It refused to be put out of sight completely. “It was in the bag for a reason,” Shelagh said, not looking at the doctor. She was blushing so fiercely that tears stood in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Doctor Turner said, voice thick. “Your bag fell over. I didn’t mean to look at your possessions.”

“Maybe I can still go to a hotel. I’m sorry I came here. We’re only colleagues, after all, and…”

He took her hand. She stilled, but couldn’t bring herself to face him.

“Please look at me,” he whispered.

Helpless, she obeyed.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m sorry I looked into your bag. I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.”

“What are you about…” she started, but then, he kissed her, and she couldn’t talk anymore. He had cupped her face with two hands, but one now slid down her throat and shoulder and came to rest in the small of her back. She slung her arms around his neck, her knees far weaker than she could have imagined. He tasted of Turkish Delight and wine.

I could get drunk on him and him alone, she thought.

He slipped the tip of his tongue between her lips and curled it upwards. The tiny throb that she sometimes stilled when she was alone in her bed came alive purringly. Something in her belly coiled. She sighed into his mouth, one hand at the nape of his neck, brushing the little hairs that grew there. “Don’t be sorry,” she said when they broke their kiss.

He walked her back till she fell on the couch, her head hitting the pillow propped in one of its corner. “I’ve imagined doing this for a very long time,” Doctor Turner said, sitting down in the space between her legs.

“How long?” she asked.

“For months. Maybe longer,” he confessed. He took her face between his hands again and nipped her bottom lip.

The throb was pain now. She pulled him closer, moaning as she felt his weight on her. “I’ve loved you from the moment I knew you,” she admitted, her voice tremulous and breathy.

“It sometimes feels to me I’ve loved you even longer than that.” With the hand he wasn’t using to keep himself propped up he caressed her breast. Her back arched. She shivered, even though she was burning.

“Doctor Turner,” she moaned.

“Do call me Patrick, Nurse Mannion.” Offered like a gift, like she imagined.

“Patrick,” she said, rolling the ‘r’ like a pebble in her mouth, breath catching on the ‘k’. “Only if you call me Shelagh.”

“Shelagh,” he promised, kissing her before she could say anything more, every kiss punctuated by fireworks outside. Their light painted the living room yellow and orange and red and green.

“Is that why you came here tonight?” he whispered between kisses. “Because you imagined doing this too?"

“I’ve never done this before,” she said.

His hands stilled. She opened her eyes, studying him between her lashes. He was smiling, the wrinkle beside his mouth more prominent than ever. She touched it with a trembling finger, following its course from his cheek to his chin. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

He took her hand and kissed every fingertip. “Nothing, my darling, my Shelagh. It’s just… It’s a rather big thing to take from you. Maybe we should save it for another time, when I haven’t had too much to drink.” He winked. “Maybe we should do this when you’re wearing that rather daring nightgown.”

She smiled. “Do you think so?”

“Yes. There’s no hurry, is there?”

“Well, I’ve no idea when I’m allowed back into my apartment…”

He laughed at that, pulled her up, and took her in his arms. “Have you seen the time?” he murmured in her ear.

“No.”

“The new year has started. Happy new year, Shelagh.”

“Happy new year, Patrick. Shouldn’t we wake Timothy? He’ll be so disappointed if he won’t see the fireworks,” Shelagh said, resting her forehead against Patrick’s.

“We should,” he agreed, but they stood in each other’s embrace for a good while yet, reluctant to let the other go now that they had found each other.

#sneaky fanfic presents #turnadette #call the midwife fanfiction #call the midwife #lovetheturners

50 notes · View notes

ohmytheon · 7 years

Text

Killer Queen (Rebelcaptain, 6)

So I decided to be nice and give you all something that you’ve been waiting for since it took me a few days longer than planned to get this chapter up. I mean, I do something awful first, but the rest is real good shit. We’re coming close to an end here, probably one or two chapters left, depending on what the next one feels like to me.

Summary: The Rebelcaptain Miss Congeniality AU that I wasn’t planning on writing.

killer queen chapter six

To be perfectly honest, Jyn had thought the actual competition itself would be the hardest part of this undercover mission. How anyone, especially professionals, could possibly believe that she was a beauty pageant queen seemed impossible, but it had somehow happened. Even stranger, she’d managed to fool people all across America on the television that she knew what she was doing. Sure, she made a few clumsy mistakes, but those could be accounted for nerves or maybe people in Kansas were just like that. Who knew?

But she’d been wrong. She would’ve gladly put on some sparkly dress and high heels and walked out on stage with the fakest smile in the world over this. Hell, she’d go to the Bureau wearing that God awful cheerleading outfit that Baze had found for her. She’d go undercover as a stripper. Seriously, she wasn’t sure what she wouldn’t do if it meant not doing this.

However, if she wanted to get any dirt on Krennic, she needed to actually be around the guy.

It was not fun.

And that was how she found herself in his hotel room, sitting across a table from him and laughing at a stupid joke. She could hear Cassian grumbling in her earpiece about it, but unlike the night that she’d gone out to the club with the girls, he was mostly keeping quiet and letting her take control of the situation. That was surprising. She had been sure that he would try to give her tips and pointers on how to charm this sleezeball, but he’d been unusually reticent these past two days, distant even.

She didn’t have time to think about it though, not with the competition coming to an end this week and them so close to figuring out who was behind the bomb threat.

It had been easy to get in Krennic’s room. With the end near, she was able to play up her nerves and act like she was getting anxious about the last few things that could either secure her a win or a lose. Tie those factors in with his ridiculously sized ego and it was almost too easy.

She didn’t want to come off as too eager or forward, so she kept it simple, wearing her hair down, very light and natural makeup, and the simple necklace she’d had since she was a child. The dress she wore was a lot more casual, a navy blue skirt and a polka dotted, ruffled white top with a brown belt. She’d worn flats, but now they were on the ground while she had her feet curled underneath her. Krennic was still in his suit from their practice run on stage earlier, but more loosened up and without his tie.

“Is that sense of humor what got you this gig?” Jyn asked him.

“Well, that and I’d like to think my good looks,” Krennic teased. It was enough to make her gag, but she picked up her glass of wine and sipped on it instead. “Oh, I’ve been lucky to age gracefully, but back in the day, I didn’t even have to try.” He winked. “Of course, being surrounded by all these beautiful, young women doesn’t help, but I’ve found that it doesn’t hurt either.”

Yeah, of course not, especially when he acted as if he was entitled to said women. Jyn forced herself to blush by thinking of something embarrassing she’d done as a teenager. It would’ve been easier if she thought about Cassian in the pool the other night, but she didn’t want to get distracted and flustered.

Jyn set her glass down. “How do you do it? I mean, it must get tiresome to do the same thing every year.”

“Nonsense, I love it!” Krennic leaned forward. “Anything I can do to help this show, I’ll do it. I’ve been working on it for so long; I can’t imagine doing anything else. And the girls, well, they’re so important. You’re all special in your own unique ways that I find fascinating.”

“But don’t you have favorites?”

Krennic smiled at her indulgently, like she was a naughty child. Honestly, was he trying to make her sick? “Well, I’m supposed to be impartial, but…” He sat back and held out his hands, palms up, caught red-handed. “I’m only human after all and some girls shine brighter than others.” Picking up his glass, he swirled the red wine around in it, but his focus was entirely on her. “Like you, my dear Kestral.”

Jyn let out a delicate, nervous laugh. “Oh, I don’t know. I mean, I want to win, most definitely, but this is… Well, I can hardly believe I’m here now. Even in this room -- with you! It’s like a dream.”

“You’re a star,” Krennic told her, setting down his wine without taking a sip and then moving closer to her. It took everything in her not to pull away. It felt the complete opposite of when she was with Cassian, who seemed to always draw her in. “You’re a stand out, a breath of fresh air in this competition. I love the girls, I do, and they’re all important, but sometimes, it’s like they play the same recording so they’ll win. But you…” He waved a hand at her. “You’re something new. There are times when even I can’t take my eyes off you.”

This time, Jyn didn’t have to fake blushing. She turned red, but not for the reasons he might assume. It would have been great if he never looked at her twice, but that wasn’t the point. Instead, she couldn’t help but think of Cassian and the way his eyes lingered on her these days. He was so difficult to read, but there were moments when she thought there was something very recognizable in his eyes that caught her off guard. It had been a while since any man had looked at her like that. Krennic might’ve been focused on her now, but his gaze held nothing on Cassian’s whose gaze practically burned her.

“That’s really kind of you,” Jyn replied, “but I’m not the most beautiful or graceful girl out there.”

“You don’t have to be in order to be the most remarkable,” Krennic pointed out. It was almost a nice comment, if not for the underlining fact that he was a total creep. “And you are beautiful. You don’t need to be painted up for someone to see that. I can appreciate that there’s more to you than that.”

“But it seems like only the most attractive girls win,” Jyn sighed. “Don’t get me wrong. I do really love the other girls that are competing and they’ve really opened my eyes. They’re not just pretty faces.” She ran her finger along the lip of her glass. Sometimes, you had to put a little truth into a lie to make it believable, but she hated doing it with him. It was like she was sharing a part of herself and she didn’t want him to have that. “But sometimes, when I’m standing up next to them, it’s hard not to feel...small. They all won their states fair and square.”

“That may be true,” Krennic said gently, moving even closer to her, “but three-fourths of those girls are gone and yet you’re still here.”

He was much too close. When her heart began to race, it was not out of excitement or nerves, but stress and agitation. She wanted him out of her space. He wasn’t Cassian. Even if Cassian had gotten close to her, he’d never really forced himself on her. They always seem to meet each other halfway without even realizing it, even before this op.

“It could be dumb luck,” Jyn said, unable to shake the nervousness out of her voice. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing, but there was no way she was going to be able to keep her cool. She tried not to jump when she felt a hand on her leg, just shy of being improper. It could still be considered comforting. Part of her wanted to take the wine bottle and bash him over the head with it, but she shut that thought down hard. Over the earpiece, Cassian had gone deathly silent.

“No, you have a raw talent; there’s just something magnetic about you.”

When Krennic put a finger under her chin to turn her to look at him directly in the face, she nearly shoved him away, but forced herself to sit very, very still. She tried to think of everything that Imwe had taught her, but none of them seemed to work. Of course this wasn’t the first time she’d gone undercover, but it was the first time she’d ever had to deal with being desirable in any way while under cover. Most guys didn’t give her a second look and that was the point.

However, just when Jyn started to become actually afraid that he might try to kiss her -- and she really didn’t know how she would be able to handle that -- her phone buzzed on the table. Krennic pulled away from her smoothly and returned to his wine while she picked up her phone somewhat shakily. When she pulled up the text, she tried not to visibly sigh in relief, but instead forced a small, disappointed frown onto her face.

“It’s Leia, my roommate,” Jyn explained as she texted a response back. “Just checking up on me since it’s so late.”

“You two are close, hm?” Krennic asked.

Jyn nodded her head. “I couldn’t have asked for someone better to share a room with. She really is an inspiration. If I had to lose to anyone, I hope it’s her.”

Krennic shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve always found her to be overrated in pageants. Too political. That can get a contestant in trouble.”

“Or help them,” Jyn countered as unfolded her legs from underneath her and stood up. “It’s certainly made her stand out.”

“It can make them a target too,” Krennic pointed out. “People don’t always like outspoken women and prefer them to follow the rules. A shame, of course, but that’s how society works sometimes.”

His words gave Jyn pause, but a moment later, she was slipping her brown flats back on. “Hopefully pageants like this can make a difference then and change people’s minds.”

Krennic smiled politely at her, but there didn’t seem to be anything true behind it. In fact, the smile didn’t even connect with his eyes. “Hopefully.” He stood up as well so that he could walk her to the door like a gentleman. She would’ve preferred that he stayed in his seat, seeing as how he placed a hand on the small of her back as if to guide her, like she wouldn’t know where to go without him. Trust her, she was ready to leap out the window if it meant getting away from him. “It was a pleasure seeing you tonight.”

“Thank you,” Jyn said. “I know it was so last minute, but you really calmed my nerves.”

“You should stop by tomorrow night,” Krennic told her. “I can take a look at your outfits for the last walk. I’ve got an eye for fashion.” When she looked up at him, he reached out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. The act was so abrupt that she nearly startled, but just barely managed to keep herself from reacting violently. Instead, she beamed at him. “Goodnight, Kestral.”

“Goodnight.”

And then she was out the door. She wanted to bolt down the hallway, but instead walked slowly to the nearest elevator and waited for it to show up. Once she was finally in the safe confines of the elevator and out of Krennic’s sight, she leaned against the wall and dropped her head back against the wall, pulling out the earpiece and letting out a large sigh. It was better than punching a wall, which was what she really wanted to do. After taking a moment to gather herself, she pulled out her phone and looked at her texts again.

From: Cass

Tell him Leia texted you if you want an out.

God, yes, she’d wanted an out. It had been smoother to text her than to tell her over the earpiece. That way she had an actual excuse that Krennic could witness. She knew that she shouldn’t have taken out the earpiece again, but she was done for the night and needed time to herself without Cassian in her ear. Besides, he’d still been quiet the entire time and that was troubling in itself. She was tempted to text him back, if only because then no one else would be able to hear her, but she put her phone away instead.

Shit, she needed a drink. And Imwe and his diet be damned, that was exactly what she was going to do.

It was a terrible and stupid idea, but once it had formed in her (admittedly somewhat addled) mind, she refused to let it go. This had been a dreadful night. Sure, getting closer to Krennic had been her idea in the first place and Cassian wasn’t happy with it, but that didn’t mean she liked it either. She’d been bait before, but never like this. Her appearance or attractiveness had never come into the equation. It unsettled her, to be honest. She didn’t know how other female agents did it. The second she made it back to the Bureau, she swore that she would find them and apologize, especially Shara, who almost always got stuck with ops like this.

It was nearing on two in the morning. Leia would probably raise her eyebrows when Jyn finally stumbled back to their room, but it would be easy to pass it off as her nerves getting the best of her. The only problem was that Jyn did not go to her room like she should have, but to someone else’s, specifically her partner’s. Very bad idea. She could not care less at the moment. Probably had something to do with the bourbon and cokes.

Knocking on the door, Jyn did not bother with politeness. She leaned against the wall, waiting to be answered. Sure it was late, but she knew that Cassian wouldn’t be asleep. The man was dreadful when it came to a proper sleep schedule. He sometimes worked through the entire night without even realizing it until the sun came up. What she did not account for was the fact that he wasn’t using this room alone.

When the door opened, it was not Cassian behind it, but Agent Kay, perhaps the only other agent whose brain had not been taken over by the fact that he was surrounded by beautiful women. In fact, it was almost like he didn’t even notice most of the time. Right now, however, he looked quite pissed in his buttoned-up pajamas and a black sleeping mask sitting on top of his head.

“Erso, do you know what time it is?” Kay demanded grumpily.

“I need to speak with Cassian,” Jyn told him, ignoring his question. She was grateful that he hadn’t once given her a lookover or changed his attitude with her, but right now, she did not need it.

Kay sniffed the air. “Have you been drinking?”

“Upset that I didn’t bring any with me?”

Letting out a sigh, Kay stepped to the side and let her in. Cassian was sitting at the table with a laptop, the file on Krennic pulled up. He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say a word. Only when Kay slipped on his shoes did he open his mouth and stand up, but Kay held up a hand and shook his head, cutting Cassian off. “Oh no, as rich as this will surely be, I don’t want to be here for this. I’m going to get some more coffee from the front desk. We’re going to need it.” He gave Jyn one last long-suffering look and then walked out of the room, leaving her and Cassian alone.

Which, now that she thought about it, was an absolutely horrible idea and she couldn’t figure out why she had thought it would be anything but that.

“You should be in your room,” Cassian sighed, remaining where he stood.

Jyn folded her arms across her chest. “Not until I get some answers.”

“I’d like a few of my own,” Cassian countered. “Like where you went after you left Krennic’s room. It’s been two hours. You went completely dark.”

“I was at the hotel bar,” Jyn replied.

“Krennic’s expensive wine wasn’t enough?”

Well that came out of nowhere, the strange hint of bitterness in his voice even more so, causing Jyn to narrow her eyes. The look on her face must have been dangerous because he shut off his own hard expression and sat back down, returning to the laptop, like he didn’t care.

And maybe he didn’t. Now that she’d had two hours to think about it, she couldn’t help but recall how distant Cassian had been with her these past two days. He’d barely spoken to her, much less been in the same room with her. One second, he was as close as could be, closer than ever before, and then suddenly he left her in the cold, like she was just some random operative and not his partner. It left her feeling strangely bereft. Even Imwe had noted the change in her, thinking that maybe she was giving up on the competition.

That wasn’t it though. As much as she struggled with it, Jyn was not ready to give up. She wanted to complete this mission, but she wanted to do something with this competition too. It had been surprising for her to realize that. Except the person she normally would’ve shared that with was nowhere to be found, only contacting her on a need-to basis. She hated that. It made her feel cut off.

“What’s your problem?” Jyn demanded furiously.

“I’m not talking with you about this right now,” Cassian told her coldly. “You’re drunk and being irrational. Go back to your room and sleep the alcohol off.”

“I’m not drunk!” Jyn exclaimed. Buzzed, for sure. Not able to drive legally, most definitely. But she wasn’t wasted like he was insinuating. “Besides, you’re the one acting ridiculous.”

Cassian jerked his head to glare at her. “Me? Acting ridiculous? I’m not the one that came stomping in here at two in the morning after a few rounds at the bar. I’m doing my job. What are you doing?”

“Don’t you dare imply that I’m not working just as hard as you!” Jyn snapped. “I didn’t want to do this -- I wasn’t the right choice -- but I’m here and I’m working my ass off for you.”

The two of them stared at each other heatedly. Jyn clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides. This was not how she’d wanted this to go, but the second she found herself in the same room with him, alone for once, it had all come rushing at her at once. The changes between them and then the sudden rift, the stress and pressure that she was forced to endure with this competition and mission, feeling like she was nothing more than a skirt. She didn’t feel like an agent right now and it really sucked.

But what hurt even more was feeling like Cassian had just abandoned her out of nowhere. He wasn’t doing anything wrong -- in fact, he was running the op like a professional -- but things felt unbalanced and she didn’t know what to do. She wanted her partner back. She wanted to feel whatever she’d started to feel with him. She wanted this to be over. God, she didn’t know what she wanted. It was very confusing.

“What did I do wrong?” Jyn asked, her voice smaller and more hurt than she’d intended it to sound. She had tried to keep that out, but it appeared as if the bourbon had other ideas, letting it slip through the cracks. Okay, maybe Cassian was a little right, but she was still very much coherent enough to have a conversation. Not the best timing, but she was here now and it would have to do.

Cassian’s face immediately softened and he looked away from her. “Nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you sure?” Jyn asked. “Because it kind of feels like it.” She bit her lip. Yelling at him was easier; this was harder, more open and honest, and it felt dangerous. This was how people got hurt. “You haven’t said anything to me outside of the mission the past two days, will barely look at me, and can’t seem to stand to stay in the same room with me for long.”

“That’s not--” Cassian leaned back in his seat and he ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m trying to be professional here.”

Jyn furrowed her brow. Well that made no sense. Cassian was the most professional person she knew. He was still wearing his tie, button up shirt, and slacks for heaven’s sake. He always did the job by the book -- unless he was forced to stretch the rules because of her -- and he filed his reports either early or on time. He attended meetings even if they weren’t mandatory for him. He’d never had a complaint filed against him. Cassian was an exemplary agent, the kind that set examples and others either resented or aspired to be.

Seeing that she wasn’t getting it, Cassian sighed. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it, but now it looked like it was more out of embarrassment. “Jyn, I’m trying to treat you professionally.”

And he was right: she didn’t get it. “What?” Maybe she shouldn’t have had that last bourbon and coke.

“You’re working incredibly hard on this mission, more than anyone else,” Cassian told her. “You’re putting yourself out there not just in this competition but with Krennic as well. I asked a lot of you with this op, but you’re being a stellar agent.”

“Um, thanks?” This was definitely killing her anger and buzz. She had not expected this sort of reaction. To be honest, she didn’t know what she had expected, but it wasn’t this quiet, ashamed Cassian. He was running this op perfectly. Sure, there had been a few hiccups, but most of them had been because of her. She tried to wrap her head around the situation when it clicked and her face burned pink. Now that she got it, Cassian looked away from her. Yeah, he was definitely embarrassed. “Okay, so maybe there’s been a few, uh, strange moments between us--”

“Strange moments?” Cassian laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it. She didn’t like that sound. “I’m not acting any better than the other guys here! I’ve been completely out of line with you, just a total idiot. You’re my partner, not some pretty face to try to impress or a skirt to chase.”

Jyn folded her arms across her chest defensively and glared at the ground. “Well I know I’m not your type or all that attractive, but geez, thanks a lot.”

Cassian quickly jumped to his feet. “Jyn--”

“And I know you’re just seeing me differently because of all the dresses and makeup, so it’s not that big of a deal--”

“Jyn!” Cassian snapped and she brought her eyes up, only to find that he was standing right in front of her. She nearly jumped. He must’ve crossed the room during her rant and she hadn’t even noticed. There was a heat in his dark eyes that was neither anger nor embarrassment. “You’re very attractive. I don’t know why you hide it, but it’s always been there.”

All she could in response was harrumph, but then… Was he wrong? She did kind of go out of her way to look as bland as possible outside of work. She’d never liked it when guys’ gazes lingered on her for too long unless she wanted it and quite frankly it had been a long time since she’d wanted that. When it came to her job, it was easier to be sexless than a woman. She was taken more seriously than some of her other female counterparts. She had never had any problems with on the job sexual harassment, which she’d heard about countless of times, probably because no one ever just saw her as a woman.

It made things easier, sure, but she was starting to realize that she didn’t necessarily like it either.

“And maybe the dresses and the makeup did something,” Cassian continued, “but you know when you’ve been your most attractive during this op?” She shook her head. The swimsuit part maybe? “When you’re confident in yourself. Not the dresses, not the makeup, not that dolled up, smiling version of yourself. Just you and your confidence.”

She hadn’t felt very confident in herself throughout most of this op and competition, but there had been moments where she had felt stronger than before. Like she wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed by herself. Even when she was working, where she was at her most comfortable, there were times when she second guessed herself or pushed herself harder to make up for whatever her bosses felt like she was lacking when she knew damn well that she was a better field agent than some of the male agents.

“That night at the club when you were carefree and having fun and connecting with people without worrying about yourself,” Cassian explained. “God, the second talent show where you demonstrated self-defense. I’d never seen you more excited and confident. The pool when you were laughing but so full of fire. The interview with Krennic where you laid yourself bare and were honest with not just the audience but yourself. That’s the Jyn I’m attracted to -- when you’re yourself but more accepting of it.”

Without thinking, Jyn bit her bottom lip, an old nervous habit that came up when she least expected it. His eyes flickered to her lips -- or maybe she was imagining things -- but he brought them back to her eyes again. She had not expected him to say anything remotely close to this or be so upfront and honest with her. In fact, judging from the way he was looking at her now, guarded all over again, he hadn’t either. He opened his mouth, looking like he was going to apologize, but then closed it again. There was nothing else to say. The cat was out of the bag. There would be no taking it back.

Slowly, her lips quirked into a small, teasing smile. “Do you want to kiss me, Cassian?”

“I--” Cassian’s eyes dropped to her lips again and he swallowed before looking away and and shutting off the open expression that had slipped onto his face. Maybe it was because it was so late that he was having trouble keeping himself closed off. He was probably tired and not thinking straight. He’d never slept well during ops. “That would be the opposite of professional.”

Jyn tilted her chin up and shook her head to toss her hair back over her shoulder, giving him her most defiant look. Yeah, definitely one too many bourbon and cokes. What was she doing? What was she thinking? But hell, it didn’t matter. Things had been changing between them for a while now and neither one of them had had the foresight to notice or confidence to act on it. He said that he liked her when she was confident in herself. Then that was what she was going to be. It made her feel good as well, better than just getting a pat on the back for doing her job well.

“Because I want you to kiss me.” Jyn did not miss the way he took a sharp breath or how tense he suddenly became despite still not looking at her. “I mean, it’s been a few years and I’m probably out of practice, but--”

Cassian’s lips were on hers before she could even finish. It wasn’t just some simple kiss or peck on the lips either. He brought his hands up to frame her face, his fingers digging into her hair, and pulled her close to him so that her body was flush against his. Definitely not some chaste, quick kiss. It was like a sudden explosion of heat, so passionate that it caught her off guard and she initially didn’t know what to do with herself. She just responded back without thinking, moving her hands to his waist to grab the end of his shirt and tug him against her.

When he groaned, she nearly jumped. She could feel the sound in his chest against hers, deep and wonderful. He pushed against her, forcing her to walk backwards, until she bumped into the dresser where the hotel tv shook and her hand flew back to grasp the edge to steady herself. He didn’t stop kissing her either and she didn’t want him to. God knew how long it had been since anyone had made her feel like her toes were curling in her shoes or like she could barely stand.

One of his hands slid down to the small of her back, pushing her against him insistently, making her shudder while his other moved to the back of her head. He tilted his head and she opened her mouth almost instinctively, allowing him to deepen the kiss, and she actually whimpered, like he’d dragged the sound out of her with his tongue and touch alone.

And then he was pulling away and she tipped forward for a second like she was chasing after his lips. He didn’t step away from her completely though. Just pressed his forehead against hers, both of their eyes still closed and breathing heavily. He’d tasted like coffee. She knew exactly what she tasted like. If her cheeks hadn’t already been flushed, she would have blushed again, but this time because of the small patterns he was tracing on her lower back. How could anyone have such an effect on her? She felt like she was on fire.

“Was that the response you were expecting when you came here tonight?” Cassian asked in a low voice, sounding a little breathless.

“Not really,” Jyn admitted. Somehow, she didn’t need to open her eyes to see the smile spreading on his face; it was like she could feel it in the air and she began to smile shyly as well.

Of course, that was when her phone chose to buzz. Both of them opened their eyes to look at one another, but neither seemed willing to part. As his hand slid from the back of her head to her neck, she fiddled around until she was able to find her phone -- bless dresses with pockets -- and clicked the home button. When she saw who the text was from, she couldn’t help but laugh. Even Cassian huffed. It was actually from Leia this time, asking her if she was okay or if she’d “finally run away from this circus to find sane people”.

Jyn sighed. “I guess I should go anyways.” She moved her head away from his and he straightened up, but he didn’t let go of her either. “It wouldn’t look very professional if I stayed here.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Cassian mused. “Kay would probably die of a heart attack.”

“Can’t do that to him,” Jyn replied, smirking up at him.

Before she could reluctantly let go of him though, Cassian swooped down to kiss her again. It wasn’t as passionate as before, but still managed to take the breath right out of her lungs. “I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting. I have been an idiot.” He brushed a few long strands of her hair out of her face. “It’s just normally we know who the bad guy is and this time… I don’t want you to get hurt because of something I missed. Please be careful.”

They’d said that to one another on ops before, but this time, it felt much bigger. She couldn’t even explain what was different about it or why it felt that way, except that something soft and warm swelled inside of her.

“I’m always careful,” Jyn insisted.

Cassian just laughed though. “You’re the most reckless person I know.”

Okay, so he had her there. Judging by the way she’d stomped into his room and demanded answers that she hadn’t expected at all, she was very reckless. Honestly though, she couldn’t say that was a bad thing right now, not when she felt so warm and alive.

However, as fate would have it, just when Jyn thought she was getting a handle on things -- this competition, this op, herself -- the rug was pulled out from underneath her again. With only five contestants left, the show would be over tonight. As much as she couldn’t wait to get this over with and go back to the real world, a part of her was afraid that things would go right back to the way they were once they did. She was walking back to Cassian’s room after rehearsals, somewhat sheepishly, when she noticed men carrying boxes out of the room.

Alarmed, Jyn rushed forward and pushed her way inside, finding Cassian frowning down at his phone. She didn’t even let him know that she was in the room before questioning, “What’s going on?”

Cassian looked up at her. If he was surprised by her appearance or was still thinking about last night, he didn’t show it on his face. Not that she expected him to, what with all the other agents around, but she didn’t like the troubled look on his face either. Were they getting pulled out because of something she’d done or--? She didn’t think anyone knew about what happened between them or would’ve reported them or if that would’ve even warranted them getting called off this op so close to the end, but guilt still crossed her mind anyways.

“It’s over,” he finally told her.

“Over?” Jyn repeated, stepping towards him hesitantly. “What does that mean?”

“It means we’re done here,” Cassian sighed, pocketing his phone. “A man turned himself in claiming to have made the bomb threats. Apparently, Miss Texas is his ex-girlfriend. She broke up with him two weeks before the pageant and applied for a restraining order, but was denied because there were no records of him physically harming her.”

A fire burned in Jyn’s belly, but not anywhere near as pleasant as the one last night. She scowled, seething outright, as she pictured the woman that had become one of her friends. It was hard to imagine that someone as strong and capable as her would’ve been with an abusive asshole, but after this competition, she knew better than to judge people by their looks.

Still, as glad as she was that the guy was in custody, something didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like the op was just over and they had their guy. She didn’t have a ton of evidence, but she could’ve sworn that the culprit was right here with them and that she’d interacted with them. It was just a gut feeling, one that the guys would’ve trusted before but would now joke was just women’s intuition.

Cassian, however, merely looked at her without judgement. “You don’t think it’s him.”

“Do you?” Jyn countered.

“The intel on him looks legit, but…” Cassian frowned at whatever was on his laptop, probably the info that had been sent to him after the guy’s interrogation was finished. “The timing is suspect. Why now? She’s still in the competition. Out of nowhere, he feels guilty and says that it was just a threat? There aren’t any records of him researching bomb materials. It just feels...flimsy.”

“Kind of like he was coerced into admitting guilt?”

“Yeah,” Cassian agreed, “but who? How?”

Jyn stepped up to the table and combed through the files. “I know someone who’s pretty good at blackmailing people to get out of things.” When she found the one she was looking for, she flipped it open and turned it around for him to look at.

“Krennic.” Cassian almost scowled as heatedly as her minutes ago. He looked back up at her. “You really think it’s him? He could just be a creep.”

“It’s him,” Jyn proclaimed, feeling more confident in her theory now that she was saying it out loud. “Yeah, he’s a total creep, but he’s also got a lot of connections. It’s nearly at the end and for the first time he wants all eyes turned away from him.”

“Do you think he knows that the pageant is being surveilled?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Jyn replied, “He’s a bastard too, but not a total idiot. An event this large, he’d have to know that any threats would be cause for extra security. He’s slippery though.” She watched the last of the surveillance equipment was taken out of the room. Agent Kay was checking everything off a list, but he didn’t look pleased either. They caught eyes when he glanced up at her and he nodded his head before returning to the list. Maybe he didn’t agree with what was going on either. “I don’t want to let this go in case the Bureau is wrong. A lot of people could get hurt or worse.”

“Then we stay,” Cassian decided firmly. “The competition ends tonight, right? And we have this room reserved for the next two days. Who says we have to leave right away?”

Jyn was honestly surprised by how quick Cassian was to agree with her on this and willing to stay on. While it wouldn’t be outright insubordination, it did sort of feel like they were doing something under their boss’ nose. Still, she couldn’t help but smile. This was what their partnership and friendship had always been about: mutual trust and respect. He listened to her and she listened to him and together they fought their battles. It wasn’t always an easy ride, but at the end of the day, she knew that he had her back and she had his.

“It looks like you two are planning on seeing this thing through,” Agent Kay piped up in a clipped manner as he walked over to them. Jyn raised an eyebrow up at him and he let out a troubled sigh. “I suppose I’ll stay as well. Someone has to keep an eye on you two and analyze the data.” Despite any issues that she had with him, at that comment, Jyn laughed. He did not look nearly amused. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Didn’t they all? That was how this whole mess had started.

#jyn erso #cassian andor #rebelcaptain #rogue one #star wars #orson krennic #leia organa #miss congeniality au #k-2so #cassian x jyn #jyn x cassian #rebelcaptain fanfic #sw fanfiction #the things of songs

23 notes · View notes

ecotone99 · 4 years

Text

[HM] Santa Gets Consulted on His Operation

"Santa. Hello. How are you? Well I hope. How's Misses Claus? Rudolph? Also well? Good.", the man in the crisp navy suit bulldozed through niceties, as he stepped into the conference room and set his alligator-skin briefcase down on the long, brown table with candy-cane trim. His young female colleague pressed her lips into a flat smile and smoothed her skirt as she took a seat across from Santa. The man walked back and shut the door, with a bit too much force, causing Santa to jump.

"Where can I plug in?" The man asked as he pulled out a razor-thin laptop and scanned the length of the table.

"Excuse me?" Santa replied, confused. He looked toward the woman for clarification. She blinked with her lips still pressed into a forced smile.

"A dongle. I need a dongle. Do you have a dongle?" The man implored, uttering the last sentence slowly and deliberately while shaking his laptop at chest level. "In order to present OUR findings on THAT TV, I need a dongle."

"Oh, ho ho. I see now. I'm sorry, that TV is closed circuit only. It turns on when a child is being exceptionally good!" Santa said with a glowing smile. Then his face soured and his tone grew serious, "Or, exceptionally naughty. Ho Ho Hooooo!"

The man stood motionless, waiting for Santa's uproarious laughter to finish. "Ok then. No dongle. We'll have to do this the old fashioned way. Luckily Alexa brought printouts. Alexa?"

The young woman bent over and brushed strands of blonde hair behind her ear. She popped back up with a stack of papers as thick as a shoebox and laid them on the table. The man cut the pile in thirds and handed one to Santa, who accepted it with a bemused look on his face.

"The first 30 or so pages are legalese and preamble, which I'm sure you'll read through tonight. Let's flip to page 38 outlining your problem statement and the scope of our findings," the man said, flipping to the exact right page in one turn. "We at McKinsey Consultants understand that you, Santa Claus, are experiencing slimming margins due to an increase in new entrant competition, as well as an increase in the cost of labor and materials. Is that right?"

Santa squirmed in his seat and furrowed his brow. "Well, sort of," he replied hesitantly.

"Good. Moving on to page 42 you'll see a summary of our findings. We've categorized them according to operational efficiencies, i.e. reducing costs to return to profitability, or business expansion, i.e. revenue uplift through new services and product lines."

Santa looked up at the young woman, Alexa, to see whether she was following any of this. The same elastic smile was stretched across her face, and she nodded along robotically.

The man continued. "As far as operational efficiencies go, your workshop appeared to be a tightly run ship, at least it did from a 30,000 ft view. When we actually dove deeper into the machinations of your workforce, however, we were appalled at what we found."

"My workforce?" Santa asked, pushing his bifocals back up his cherry nose as he looked up from the page. "You mean my elves?"

"That's right. We spent three days performing an efficiency study, and found the elves to be as efficient as wiping your ass with a dog turd."

Santa winced.

"Each elf produces approximately 0.83 products per week. The only reason you're able to even come close to quota is because you have a workforce the size of Japan -- if only they were as competent as the Japanese."

"Well, they mean well. They have big hearts!" Santa said in defense.

"Enlarged hearts, maybe. But we will get to their health issues in a minute," the man said ignoring Santa's growing concern. "We've found that the majority of an elven workday is wasted: Eating cookies, splashing around in the toy parts that they are NOT putting together, throwing snowballs, eating thrown snowballs, breaking into perfectly choreographed flash mobs, licking icy metal poles, sitting on shelves, playing Red Dead Redemption II, and eating ornaments... glass ornaments.

"Yesterday we watched in horror as the elves shirked their duties for the entire day. Instead, they spent 9 hours trying to write a new hit Christmas song. When it was all said and done, they realized they had just rewritten the exact melody and lyrics of 'Up on the Housetop'."

"Oooh that's a good one," Santa chimed in, bobbing his head.

"Normally we'd recommend that you fire 80% of them to save on wages, and then pursue robotic process automation, but it's come to our attention that you don't pay them anything. As much as it pains me to say this, it may be in your best interest to have them copulate just so there are more of them. This is, of course, at the risk of further watering down the most inbred gene pool we've seen outside of the hills of West Virginia."

"Ho Ho Ho, my elves don't reproduce! They just... well... I have no idea what they do...," Santa trailed off, sliding his hand over his chin and mouth.

The man let Santa's imagination run for a long second before cutting back in, "You don't want to know. Trust us. We've seen it. Anyway, the only way to cut costs that we can recommend at this point is to pull their healthcare."

"Pull their healthcare!" Santa exclaimed. "But I can't afford to have a bunch of sick elves running around!"

"Actually, it's the only thing you can afford. The amount of healthcare claims your employees have made in the past few years is staggering, and all of this expense trickles back to you. You're worried about them, but they aren't worried about you! If they were, they'd change their diet. They eat nothing but cookies, and - as I said earlier - the occasional ornament. Regarding the latter, they have no pretense about being able to digest the ornaments. They just get swept up in the Christmas spirit and turn into little Yuletide gremlins, devouring everything in sight."

"But sugar is what keeps them filled with the Christmas spirit," Santa defended, his voice lifting at the end, as if beginning to question his own reasoning.

"If by 'Christmas spirit' you mean 'Type II diabetes', then yes. You are spending a fortune on insulin shots for these guys. This whole place is brimming with sugar. I poured myself a hot coffee in the break room the other day, and when I took a sip my teeth almost fell out. Turns out it was just a pot full of chocolate syrup, which the elves refuse to mix with milk," the man said with a grimace and outstuck tongue.

"Well...," Santa said as he scratched his chin, "maybe we can work our way onto some fruit. Let's start with pineapple and mango."

The man pulled a pen from his breast pocket and scribbled a few notes. He flipped a few pages ahead, scanned the page for a second, and started shaking his head. "Ok, let's talk about business expansion - page 56."

Santa fumbled with the pages for a minute, his white gloves severely limiting his precision motor skills. Alexa reached across and flipped to page 56 for him, then smiled a smile that her eyes did not care to participate in.

The man started again, "We understand your primary business is the production and distribution of playthings; your distribution model is global; and your customer demographic is all children, aged 2 - 16."

"Believers, yes," Santa interrupted.

"Believers? Ok..." The man's patience grew thinner, "I can't imagine CitiBank dropping me as a client if I suddenly grew wary of their existence, but I'll grant you this one. The point is, you're sitting right in the murdered middle here. You're doing a little for a lot of people, but not enough for anyone. You either need to niche-down or scale-up."

"Sorry, do you mean nice-down, because I only deliver to the boys and girls on my 'nice list'."

"No!" The man burst, quickly catching himself and smoothing the lapel of his suit as he regained his composure. "No. Niche-down, as in aggressively target a more engaged and more profitable customer base. For example, only serving preteen boys who play competitive soccer, and who's parents are High Net Worth individuals."

"But the song - Here Come Santa Claus - says that I have toys for ALL the girls AND boys. And that I don't care if they're rich or poor... I love them all the same."

"We can work with marketing on that. Change it to...," the man began snapping his fingers arrhythmically, and in a low, droning sing-song, "He doesn't care if you live in Orange County or Beverly Hills, he'll... something something something." He turned to Alexa and motioned for her to write that down, apparently pleased with himself.

"Anyway, I'm not sure that niche-ing down is the way you should go, Santa," the man changed his tone.

"It's not? Oh that's good!" Santa said, relieved.

"No. With the production capacity you have here in the workshop, it'd be a crime not to scale up - to take on the big guys... Amazon... Alibaba... Walmart."

"Ok, well, how do we do that?" Santa asked.

"Easy. You serve everyone everything. You'll become the one-stop-shop for everything from coffee pots to garlic presses to replacement windshield wipers. Your name will become synonymous with ecommerce."

"But I want my name to stay synonymous with Christmas!" Santa declared.

"And it will! But instead of delivering gifts once per year - to children only, mind you - you'll get to deliver them every day to every person on the planet. It'll be Christmas in July, and, hell!, it'll be Christmas on Halloween, Easter, and Thanksgiving!"

"Ridiculous! I don't know what adults want for Christmas!" Santa exclaimed.

"They'll tell you! Through the app!" the man barked back, getting heated once again.

"You don't get it! Adults aren't able to communicate with me at all - only those who believe! But... there is one adult left on Earth who still believes."

"Pffffbt, now that's ridiculous, Santa," the man said in an overly mocking tone. "Nobody with half a developed brain buys this nonsense."

Santa stared at him a moment, then turned to Alexa, "Now, now, Wayne. I'd believe that if Alexa had said it. Her parents told her when she was 7, and so she's been staring right through me ever since she showed up."

The man now sat with his hands across his brow, shielding his eyes from Santa's view. His bobbing shoulders belied the deep sobs that began to form.

Santa flipped to the last page of the document, and said in a voice as warm as a pot full of chocolate syrup, "I see you've slipped your Christmas list in here on page 198, Wayne. Why don't you come sit on Santa's lap and we'll read through it together?"

submitted by /u/thenoodling [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/35cJPpv

#Blogger #Story

0 notes

navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

Still Get Jealous

Pairing: Rocker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't get jealous. Or does he? Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, slight jealousy, swearing, talk of exhibitionism, Rocker!Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fifth day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to White Wolf and Luna! Finally wrote something for them. Inspired by this ask here by the wonderful @beach-daydreaming . ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Bucky edit by the amazing Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky isn’t a jealous man. He has no reason to be. Playing sold out shows, rocking out with his friends, and getting paid to have a good time? He's on top of the world.

Best of all, he has you.

If only the pricks around you would take a hint.

It made sense that other guys wanted you. The way you carried yourself with confidence and dressed like you were made for sin, you got attention everywhere you went. Just because he slid an arm around your waist and pulled you to his side when some guy hit on you didn’t mean he was possessive. If he dug his fingers in a little or pressed a kiss to your neck, it was a subtle way to make the asshole back off.

It was not because he was jealous.

“Marking your territory?” you always asked once they took a hint.

"If I wanted to do that, I'd put you on your knees and fuck you right here."

He never had to touch you to know that got you wet. The whole crew caught you two going at it more than once and you got off on it every time. His beautiful Luna had an exhibition streak as long as his. You loved showing everyone who you belonged to.

So was he possessive or jealous if he knew you were his?

"Will you ever make good on that promise?” you teased.

Bucky considered it after the latest show.

Downing a shot, he glared at Graham across the bar. He had no issues with the Nonsense Nation guitarist most days. The guy was quiet and usually kept to himself. He hardly ever cracked a smile.

So why was he huddled close to you and laughing?

And why were you laughing with him?

Since when is Graham a fucking comedian?

“Stop glaring,” Steve asked, trying to get Bucky’s attention.

“Why is she shoving her tits in his face?” he demanded to know.

You trying to get my attention, Luna? You fucking got it.

Steve handed another shot over, which he quickly downed. “She’s not putting her tits anywhere. You know she doesn’t want him.”

Bucky knew you weren’t into Graham, but he still questioned why you were leaning in closer. The bar wasn’t that loud. There was no reason to press up against him like that. You were practically in his lap at that point.

“Fuck this,” he muttered as he licked his lips and slammed the glass down on the counter.

“Fuck it,” Steve agreed, nodding over to you. “Go get your girl.”

My girl.

His best friend gave him shit about the two of you in the beginning because he refused to put a label on things. You were a good fuck. The best pussy he ever had. There was no reason to mess that up by calling you his girlfriend.

Somewhere along the way, it became more. You didn’t fuck any other guys and he didn’t pick up any other groupies. He liked talking to you when he wasn’t balls deep inside you. He loved making you laugh.

Which is probably why he wanted to punch Graham’s fucking face in.

You didn’t turn around as he came up behind you, but he heard your gasp when he pulled you back against his chest.

“What’s so funny, baby?” he whispered against your ear.

“Hey, Buck,” you said sweetly, pushing your hips back in a gentle grind. “Oh, nothing. Graham and I were talking about you, believe it or not.”

“Is that right?” Bucky asked, keeping his eyes on Graham as he tilted your head and moved his lips down to your jaw.

“We were,” the guitarist confirmed, taking a sip of his drink and seemingly not bothered at all by the display as he checked his phone. “I owe Jefferson a drink.”

“The fuck does that have to do with me?” he asked, grinding against you in return so you could feel him getting hard.

Wonder if I could get away with fucking you on the bar.

“Luns wondered how long it would take for you to come over and say something if I flirted with her. I thought it would take five minutes,” Graham said as he slid off his barstool. “Jefferson said two minutes.”

Should’ve fucking known you were playing games.

You let out a hum of pleasure when he slid his hand under the front of your top. “Then find the fucking Mad Hatter and get him a drink. Now,” he grumbled.

“Maybe I want him to stay,” you said in a sing-song voice before Bucky cupped your breast and squeezed. “Fine. Thanks for the laugh, Graham.”

“You two behave,” he smirked a little before he walked off.

“No promises,” you said even though the two of you were alone. Well, as alone as you could be in a bar. “Two minutes. I’m impressed, White Wolf.”

“You trying to make me jealous, Luna? Bad fucking girl,” he said, his thumb brushing along your nipple. "Should punish you for that."

"Is it a punishment if we both enjoy it?" you moaned, the globes of your ass pushing even harder against him. “You don’t need to be jealous, but I like it."

“Not jealous,” he mumbled as he buried his face in your neck. "Is he funnier than me?"

If he sounded vulnerable, you didn't call him out on it.

"No, he isn't," you answered, making him breathe a little easier. "And don't you dare ask if I think he'd fuck me better."

"No one can fuck you better than I can," he said, his confidence back in full swing. "But I think you need a reminder that you’re mine.”

You gasped when he pinched your nipple. “As much as I want you to fuck me on the bar, and you will do that one day, I think the bathroom stall will do just fine.”

He may have given Jefferson and Graham the finger when you dragged him away. He also may have admitted later while you slept that he was jealous. Only because you were the best fucking thing to ever happen to him and you could have anyone you wanted.

But you chose him.

And who would the White Wolf be without his Luna?

You gotta love him. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #rocker!bucky barnes x reader #white wolf and luna #bucky barnes #rocker!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

1K notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

Break Check

Pairing: Motocross!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You made quite an impression on Bucky Barnes before his race. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Mentions of flirting, rivalry, previous accident, a touch of insecurity and jealousy, motocross!Bucky Barnes simping a bit over you (he’s a warning, okay?) A/N: Second day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to Hothead and Spitfire and we get glimpse of how Bucky feels after meeting you! I can't wait to share more of them. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was waiting for someone like you to come along. Before his accident, he dated a few girls here and there. While it was fun, it was never anything serious because something was missing. The deep connection he wanted wasn't there, no matter how hard he tried to make it work. He wasn't an asshole though. He did his best to never hurt anyone when things had to end.

After his accident, dating came to a bit of a standstill.

The loss of his arm was a shock, but he was lucky in hindsight since he was alive. Between recovery and getting used to functioning with a metal prosthetic, dating wasn't a priority. A couple of riders tried to tease that the ladies would want him more because of how badass he looked. They was right in a way. The pit lizards still occasionally threw themselves at him once he showed the sponsors and fans that his previous injury wouldn't keep him down.

It didn't drive the pain or lingering insecurities away.

And after he finally went out with Dolores, which turned out to be disastrous, he swore off dating for the time being.

Then you showed up and changed his mind.

"Buck!" Steve said as Natasha pulled you away. "You good?"

"Better than good," he said, staring after you until you were out of sight.

He heard you ask Natasha “What the hell just happened?" before she dragged you off and he wondered the same thing. He expected to be in the worst headspace after his run-in with Rumlow, but you turned it all around. He certainly didn't expect to meet a sweet spitfire today.

"You seem distracted," Sam said, smirking at Steve.

"If I'm distracted, it's for a good reason," Bucky said, taking off his helmet. "A very good reason."

"I can't believe you kissed her," Steve smiled slightly. "Well, I kind of get why you did. She's-"

"She's what? Do you want her?" Bucky asked as a swirl of jealousy formed in his gut.

It was similar to how he felt when Rumlow looked you up and down like a piece of meat.

"Didn't think we were calling dibs, but I'm not into her," Steve said, making the brunette let out a breath. "Even if I was, I'm positive she isn't into me."

It wasn't right of Bucky to feel possessive over someone he just met. He had no claim to you. He knew Rumlow was bad news though and not the kind of guy a girl like you deserved.

You don't deserve a guy like me either.

He didn't like to talk about the occasional nightmares he had, how he'd wake up covered in sweat with his heart frantically beating. And though he still did well on the tracks, he hated how on edge he could get before a race. No one should have to deal with that.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He had no reason to snap at his friend.

"Don't be. I was just going to say she seems like the type of girl you've been looking for."

Steve was right.

While Bucky put a hold on dating, he didn't want to give up hope. As if Natasha knew, she had mentioned a new friend in the area. Single. Smart. Not afraid to speak up. The fact that she spoke highly of you intrigued him. He surprised himself when he told Steve he was interested in meeting you.

Now that he had, he felt shattered and whole all at once.

Sam shook his head. "I'll say it again. I hope she knocks your ass in the dirt."

"I kind of hope she does, too," Bucky smiled dreamily. He considered himself lucky that you didn't after he bet a date with you instead of asking you out like a normal person. "Fuck, I wish someone would've recorded her verbally kicking Rumlow in the balls."

Watching you put Maddox in his place was the highlight of his year. Hardly anyone stood up to him, but you did it with ease. He wanted to kiss you then and there and tuck you under his arm when he saw his rival look you over. Even with your insults, the prick wanted you.

Not happening, Rumlow. Fuck off.

"Maybe someone did. You know word spreads fast around here, Hothead," Joaquin joked.

Hothead and Spitfire has a nice ring to it.

Oh, you were a spitfire and he loved it. Which is why it broke his heart when you thought he'd tell you off. All because you gave him your insight on the situation with him and Maddox, which he knew wasn't to hurt his feelings.

You spoke your mind to help, not hurt him.

How many people have told you off for speaking your mind? Who made you feel like you couldn't?

What also struck him was that you defended him without a thought for yourself. It didn't matter that he was strong enough to handle it or that it wasn't your fight. You stepped in and gave him a smile that made him feel like he wasn't alone. It was a feeling that would stick with him long after today.

"Any idea where you plan to take her on your date?" Steve asked.

Bucky smiled to himself. If he asked him that, then he was confident that he was going to win the race. And that you'd agree to really go out with him.

"I don't know, but it needs to be perfect," he said.

He had to make it special, something unforgettable.

"Nat will rip you a new one if you don't do something nice," Sam said.

Bucky swallowed and nodded. "Of course, it'll be nice. It isn't just a fucking bet. I like her."

How could I not?

Beyond standing up for him, you kept up with his banter and pushed exactly the way he needed to be. That was just in the few minutes he spoke with you. And the moment he brushed his lips against yours, he was done for. It wasn't anywhere close to being enough. He wanted to spend hours exploring your mouth and discovering every secret only a lover had the privilege of knowing.

"Did you see how many necks broke trying to look her way? A lot of guys like her," Sam teased, making Bucky scowl slightly.

Nat failed to mention how fucking beautiful you are, especially in that skirt. I'm lucky all the blood in my body didn't rush to my cock.

"Just make sure Rumlow doesn't win," Joaquin gently said.

Rumlow has another thing coming if he thinks he'll lay a finger on you without your permission, Spitfire.

"He won't," Bucky promised.

You had awakened something in him he thought lost or broken. He wasn't about to lose. He just hoped you'd take a chance on him.

Bucky will win the race, right? 😏 Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n'#motocross!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #motocross!bucky barnes #hothead and spitfire #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #motocross au #dialed in: motocross au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

1K notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

A Sunny Outlook

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: After everything Andy has been through, his outlook on life is a bit jaded. Until you show up. Word Count: Almost 1.3k Warnings: Defending Jacob spoilers/Mix of canon and canon divergent (talk of divorce, child death), slight angst, opposites attract, future smut and feels (it's me), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Tenth and final day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to new couple, Grumpy and Sunny! Set in the same AU as Hottie and Sugar, I mixed up my list a bit and plan to share Thorn and Rose at a later date. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Andy edit by the beautiful @randomagnes0210. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If you would’ve told Andy Barber years ago that he’d be living his life today as a tattoo artist, he wouldn’t have believed you. He had his path carved out. Life didn’t care what people wanted though, no matter how hard they worked to get it.

“Um, Mr. Barber?” Jake called out to him from the desk.

"How many times have I told you to call me 'Andy'? For fuck's sake," Andy snapped.

"Sorry, Mr. Bar- Andy!"

Andy took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled. He didn't mean to snap at Jake. He was a good guy. One of the nicest around. It wasn't his fault he was in a bad mood.

Which was his mood most days.

"No, I'm sorry," he said.

He wasn’t always a jaded man. Though his dad had been in jail his entire life, he thankfully had a good childhood overall. It helped set him on his path to become a lawyer, as he wanted to help others. He also made a promise to himself to be a good father if that day would ever come. He thought he had that chance to make that dream a reality with his college sweetheart, Laurie.

As a lawyer, he enjoyed his work. It challenged him and helped him grow. It was also stressful depending on the case. Long hours and seeing some people at their worst didn’t always leave him in the best headspace. But he had his wife and they had their son, Jacob.

Life was good.

Until his world got a little darker.

“This isn’t working, Laurie.”

“No, it isn’t."

Andy couldn’t put his finger on why and he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that Laurie was on the same page. Love took a lot of work and sometimes it wasn’t enough to make a marriage last. Not that they didn’t give it a try. They met with a counselor. Neither of them stepped out on each other. They wanted desperately to make it work for their kid.

But the loss of their son solidified the end of their marriage.

“Andy, I know you blame me.”

The thing is Andy didn’t put that on her. It was the bad weather that caused her to spin out of control. But she carried guilt for fighting with their son before the crash. It was something she couldn’t let go of.

The divorce was as ammicable as it could be, but it didn’t stop him from feeling like a failure. Work couldn’t distract him either. How was he expected to help people, some who were not even innocent, when he couldn’t help himself?

Tears filled his eyes as he sat in his empty house, trying to figure out what the hell was he supposed to do with his life. He didn’t want to go back into the office. He also didn’t want to drink himself to death. In a drunken stupor he called an old friend of his.

Steve Rogers.

One of the most honorable men Andy had the pleasure of knowing. While he went off to law school, Steve joined the army. The last he heard, he became a tattoo artist with another friend and army buddy, Bucky Barnes. He felt like an ass calling when he hadn’t reached out in so long, but the inebriated part of his brain didn’t process that.

“I don’t know what to do,” was all he said on the voicemail.

He woke up the next morning with a text message from Steve: “You any good at drawing?”

It was the beginning of his new chapter.

"You are never gonna get laid if you keep snapping at everyone," Hal winked as he walked by his chair.

"Get fucked," he said with only a hint of malice as Hal chuckled.

"I'm tryin'!"

"Give him a break," Steve said from his station, but he was smiling, too.

Like Jake, it was hard to get mad at a guy like Hal. A charming piercer who drifted from place to place before he met up with Steve and Bucky, he did some of the best work in the city. He was sure some came into the new shop just to hit on him.

"What is it, Jake?" he asked as he stood up and stretched.

"Your consultation is here about the sun tattoo," he explained, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. "Said she saw some of your work online."

Andy took another breath. He prided himself on the portfolio he built. It took him time to build and he didn't have as much clientele as Steve and Bucky, but he was slowly catching up. He was proud of the work he accomplished.

"Yeah, send her over," he said. He had a few minutes before his next appointment. "Thanks."

Jake rushed off before he could say another word, likely afraid he'd snap again. He'd have to apologize again later. He should've been happy. The opening of the shop went well. He liked his place in the city.

What the hell was his problem?

"Hi!"

Andy blinked when you stood in front of him. He wasn't used to seeing such a cheerful smile on someone’s face. Not directed at him, at least. He would've thought it was fake if not for the kindness in your eyes.

Ironic that you wanted a sun tattoo since he saw the world as much darker a long time ago.

Would the sun still shine in your eyes if I had you spread out under me?

Where the fuck did that thought come from?

He didn't lust after potential clients. He hadn't even done one night stand after Laurie. Why did seeing your happy, beautiful face make him want to change his mind?

Why did your smile get to him?

"Um, I can come back another time," you offered, as if you inconvenienced him by walking over.

The mere presence of you rendered Andy speechless until he remembered he had to speak.

"No, it's okay. Please, have a seat," he stood up to pull a chair over. "I'm Andy."

Your smile was back on your face as you gave him your name.

Beautiful, just like you.

"I just want to say real quick that I love your work,” you said as you took out your phone. “I can’t believe I was lucky enough to get in so quickly.”

"I appreciate that,” he said. The compliment meant a lot. “It’s a sun tattoo you want, right?"

“Yeah. My friends call me Sunny because I’m what they call a ‘big ball of sunshine’,” you explained.

“I can’t imagine why,” he deadpanned. You looked like you were trying to hold in a laugh as you set your phone down. “Something funny?”

“Do people tell you that you’re grumpy?” you asked curiously. "Or is it a requirement that at least half of the staff here have to look intimidating?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he wasn’t the least bit offended. “People tell me almost every day."

“I can’t imagine why,” you echoed with a smile.

"And if only half of us look intimidating, then we aren't doing our job."

“Don't worry. I won't tell," you mock whispered.

He actually smiled back at you before he frowned and cleared his throat. He refused to let you consume his thoughts, even if your bright aura began to chip away at his tough exterior. “Then why don’t you tell me more about your tattoo.”

He listened intently as you explained the kind of sun design you wanted and where. He had a feeling by the time he finished your consultation, he'd be in a much better mood. Even if he didn’t want to be. And your tattoo would be his best work yet.

Andy's world may be a bit brighter thanks to you. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #tattoo artist!andy barber x reader #andy barber #tattoo artist!andy barber #grumpy and sunny #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber imagine #andy barber au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

807 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

First Date

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve has the best first date thanks to you. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Fluffy fluff, light pining, first date, first kiss, mentions of the holidays, Steve Rogers (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Sixth day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to Steve Rogers. Requested by the incredible @buckyownsmylife. You deserve only good things! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If there was one thing Steve still wasn’t used to after the serum, it was that women wanted to date him. It was strange even after he was taken out of the ice that people actively sought out his company when they used to overlook him. Bucky no longer had to convince his dates to bring along another girl for him. And Natasha, of course, did her best to set him up with a few different women.

He relented when he realized she wasn’t going to stop.

She gave up when the third girl she set him up with didn’t work out.

“What was wrong with this one?” she asked.

“Nothing was wrong with her,” Steve told her truthfully. “She was just wrong for me.”

He wondered if he was doomed to be alone.

Until you asked him out.

A breathtaking new agent with a loving smile who could easily put men twice your size on their backs. He was inexplicably drawn to you and wouldn't be breaking any bylaws by dating you. He planned to ask you out, but you beat him to the punch one day after sparring.

"Would you want to grab dinner with me Saturday?"

"A date?" he asked as you nodded.

"Yeah, a date," you said with a hopeful smile.

It felt good to have you smile at him that way.

"I'd love to," he smiled back.

“Great! I’ll pick you up at six o'clock. Dress warm, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled more, wondering what you had in mind.

He got his answer when you showed up at his apartment right on time.

“Oh, wow,” you whispered when he opened the door. He heard your heart rate speed up as you gazed at him. You told him to dress warm, but he still wanted to look his best. “Sorry. I’m staring.”

“It’s okay,” Steve chuckled. You told him to dress warm, but he still wanted to look his best. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m staring, too.”

You looked at your feet with a small smile before you lifted your head again. “I don’t mind.”

The breathy tone in your voice had his heart racing, too. “We should probably get going, otherwise I’ll just stare at you all night,” he teased.

The other dates he had been on had initial awkwardness in the beginning, but he felt none of that when he held out his hand for you. Even through the fabric, he felt electricity crackle between the two of you. Like a natural fit.

“Now, I should warn you,” you began as he led you out of the apartment building. “I kind of deviated away a bit from the normal first date dinner."

“I’m sure whatever you have set up is going to be amazing,” he smiled, giving your hand a small squeeze.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I wanted to make it something to remember.”

“If I were a better gentleman, I would’ve been the one to plan this.”

“You think I’d make you plan your first date since you’ve been unfrozen?” you asked incredulously as you began to walk again. “Never.”

Steve opened his mouth and closed it just as quickly as you pulled him along the sidewalk. He didn’t have the heart to tell you this wasn’t his first date. Not when you looked so happy.

“Here it is!” you grinned.

A large horse and carriage stood by the curb with a coachman who tipped his hat. The red plush bench had a blanket for extra warmth and Steve noticed a small table with two drinks and a large box across from where they’d sit. He could smell the pizza from where he stood.

It was from his favorite restaurant.

“I thought we could have pizza and drinks while we looked at lights around the city. And there’s a bakery stop along the way so we can have dessert,” you explained as you approached the carriage. “I figured this would give us a chance to talk and see how beautiful our home looks when we’re not fighting to keep it safe.”

Steve didn’t get in right away as his eyes met yours, memorizing how beautiful you looked under the city lights. You held your breath as he stepped closer. He knew you put a lot of thought into this evening. That alone made him feel special.

"But if you hate it, I can-"

“This is incredible,” he said as you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Really? Because your silence made me a little nervous,” you giggled.

Steve held up a hand to stop the coachman from helping you in, wanting to do it himself. “I'm sorry. I’m told I can be a bit stoic,” he joked, settling into the carriage beside you once you got comfortable.

“Didn’t I tell you? This is a stoic free carriage,” you teased.

"If anyone can make me smile, it's you."

He hoped that didn't sound cheesy.

"I like making you smile," you said as the carriage began to move.

The two of you traded stories as you ate and rode through the city. The lights brought warmth to the night sky, but he found himself staring at you more than the scenery. By the time you finished eating the pizza and stopped for warm, freshly baked cookies, he had his arm around you and the blanket over both of your legs.

"So, is this how you pictured your first date?"

"No, I didn't. This is even better," he smiled, brushing a bit of chocolate from the corner of your mouth away with his thumb.

"It is?" you asked, your voice soft as he brought his thumb to his mouth.

"It is," he said, unaware of how enticing he looked as he licked it clean. He bet you tasted just as sweet. "I wish Natasha had set you up with me first."

The longing in your eyes shifted to confusion. "First? What do you mean?" you asked before you nodded in understanding. "I'm not your first date, am I?"

Steve briefly closed his eyes. Shit. He didn't mean to say that. He was a terrible liar though, so he knew he couldn't come up with an excuse.

"No," he said.

"I'm so sorry," you said, picking a bit at the blanket and avoiding his gaze. "That was a really dumb assumption on my part."

"It wasn't dumb," he promised. "I don't exactly go around broadcasting my personal life."

That happened to him enough while he was under the ice and you wouldn't have known.

"It was dumb, but thank you."

He didn't want you to feel bad or embarrassed. "Look at me, please."

It took a moment, but you slowly turned your head toward him. He wanted to kiss the uncertain expression off your face. Leaning in, that's exactly what he did. The brush of his lips against yours was soft and full of promise.

Perfect.

"This is the best date I've ever had," he whispered.

"Our date isn't over yet," you smiled when he leaned in for another kiss.

With your lips against his, he imagined what it would have been like had he taken you out in the 40's. Maybe the two of you would have gone dancing. Any excuse to hold you close like this.

It would be the perfect second date.

Steve deserves something sweet. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

752 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

Over the Hood

Pairing: Mechanic!Destroyer!Chris x Female Reader Summary: Chris lends you more than a hand when your car breaks down. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), semi-public sex, light feels (it's me), future light angst, Destroyer!Chris (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Ninth my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to Blue and Kitten, a new couple for our motocross AU! Combination inspired by @sweeterthanthis sending this ask and @nocturne-pisces for providing future background on this beautiful couple-to-be. Thank you, lovelies! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It’s cliche when you think about it. What are the chances that a good looking mechanic shows up minutes after your car breaks down? The same one you’ve had the pleasure of seeing at the local races? A man with icy eyes, a brooding stare, and offered you only a small smile when you helped him patch up his hand recently.

Everyone calls him Blue.

He calls you Kitten.

“Don’t tell me your car broke down,” Chris said once he rolled his truck window down.

“I won’t tell you then,” you smiled, holding up your phone. “I was getting ready to call someone.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll take a look,” he said, pulling over and parking before you could argue. The way he slammed the door when he got out, you almost wondered if it was an inconvenience to him. He was the one who offered to help though. “You can consider us even for my hand.”

“Helping you with your hand is part of my job,” you argued.

A small cut was an easy fix for you and spending a little time with him was admittedly nice. From what you knew about the man, he didn’t let too many close to him. Even some of the riders who were friendly with him were held at an arm’s length. But you still managed to get that small smile out of him by the end of it.

Jake even told you that Chris had a thing for you.

You didn't want to read into it.

“And this is my job,” he pointed out as he got closer. “Is it your job to give everyone kitten band aids?”

Don’t laugh. Don’t. Laugh.

“Only my special patients,” you teased, seeing his eyes flash at the amusement in your tone.

Why are the brooding ones always so handsome?

“And we’re not even, by the way. I’ll pay you for your time.”

“Oh, you will, Kitten,” he warned you. "I'll make sure of it."

That payment came in the form of you being bent over the hood of your car.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good,” he grunted, his beard scraping against your ear as he thrust. “Aching to be filled, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t ignore that there was an undeniable pull between the two of you, but you never expected yourself to spread your legs so easily for him. Especially pinned on top of your car where anyone could drive by and see you. You always had a thing for the bad boy type though and Chris fit the bill to a tee. Men like him made you feel daring.

You feared the high from the thrill he gave you would make you want more.

Too late.

“Should’ve buried my face in your cunt. Think you can cream all over my face, Kitten? I’ll settle for my cock for now.”

Your insides curled, pleasure threatening to burst from every seam. “Chris,” you whined, feeling his jeans brush against the back of your thighs as his hips met yours. “You can’t just say that.”

He chuckled as he gripped your chin and turned your face toward his. It wasn’t easy to kiss him with the angle, but he made it work. His tongue against yours felt right, just like his cock felt perfect in your warm, wet hole.

“Why not?” he asked as he broke the kiss, your hands gripping the hood for purchase as he thrust harder. “You’ll let me put my cock in you, but not my tongue? You don't want my beard to smell like you?"

You moaned when he snuck his hand around and brought his fingers to your clit. You would reprimand yourself later for letting him fuck you without a condom, but you knew he was clean. And you wanted him to make a mess of you. Being owned, even for a short time, was what your body needed.

“If you don’t get me off, you’ll never get a taste,” you threatened.

You didn't mean it. You weren't sure if this was a one time thing or not and you didn’t want to pressure him for anything else. The two of you hardly knew each other. Something was there though. Did he feel it?

If he keeps others far away from him, will he let me in?

He chuckled again, his fingers working your bundle of nerves in time with his thrusts.

“I know a greedy pussy when I feel it and my cock is just as greedy," he promised, your eyes rolling back as he brought you to the edge. "So fucking give it to me. Come.”

Your head dropped against the hood as you came with a cry, your knees shaking as you struggled to get air in your lungs. Sex like this shouldn’t have felt so intense. Maybe it was just how Chris made you feel.

“Fuck,” he groaned as his hips stilled, your insides warm as his cock throbbed in your quivering hole. Your release and his own seeped around his cock as he collapsed on your back. His heart pounded, the rhythm almost as fast as yours. “Fuck.”

He rested his face in the crook of your neck as his breathing began to even out. You weren’t too eager to move, although you should have since you were on the side of the road. But the way his arm gently wrapped around your waist, it seemed as if he wanted the afterglow to last longer, too. Who were you to deny him that after the earth shattering orgasm he gave you?

“Chris?” you asked, unsure of what to say exactly when he made no effort to pull out.

“Sorry,” he whispered, holding your waist tighter. “Just. Let me, please?”

You placed your hand over his, uncaring that your chest was still pressed against the hood. “Hold me as long as you want,” you whispered back.

A kiss to your neck was the only thanks he could give and you wouldn’t ask for more.

Not today.

Just don’t let me go, Chris.

Another couple I love. 💙 Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Misc. Sebastian Stan Characters ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #destroyer!chris x reader #destroyer!chris x female reader #destroyer!chris x you #destroyer!chris x y/n #mechanic!destroyer!chris x reader #destroyer!chris #mechanic!destroyer!chris #motocross au #dialed in: motocross au #destroyer!chris fanfiction #destroyer!chris imagine #destroyer!chris au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #blue and kitten

708 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

A Phone Call Away

Pairing: Motocross!Ari Levinson x Female Reader Summary: No matter what, Ari is just a phone call away. Word Count: Almost 1.1k Warnings: Pining, slight angst and hurt/comfort, fluff and feels, reference to cheating (not by Ari), motocross!Ari Levinson (he’s a warning, okay? A/N: Fourth day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to Beast and Sweetart! I can't wait to share more of them. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You sat on the floor as you unpacked your last box and took a moment to glance around your bedroom. You didn't realize how little you had at Carter's place until you went to get your things. True to his word, Ari got your phone back and helped you get everything out of there not long after. A couple of his friends showed up and were nice enough, but didn't say much to you. They made sure your ex wouldn't bother you or interfere. You only saw him for a split second and took great satisfaction when you noticed his black eye.

You didn't think you hit Carter hard enough to do any damage and Ari didn't mention punching him when he retrieved your phone. He only said that you wouldn't have to worry about your ex bothering you again. If he had hit him, you hoped he didn't get in any sort of trouble. You weren't worth it.

"You call me if you need anything," Ari said after he helped drop everything off. "Even if it's just to vent."

He saved his number as "Beast" under your contacts.

Thinking of that made you smile before you pulled a hand painted picture frame out of the box, staring at the photo of you and Carter inside. Most didn't know you well enough to spot that your smile in the picture was a bit forced. You may have pushed the red flags to the back of your mind, but your smile couldn't lie.

You glanced at your bed as flashes of Carter whirled through your mind. The physical part never seemed to be an issue, but it wasn't enough for him. Your stomach turned and you fought down bile that threatened to rise in your throat. You hadn't told your parents yet. They would find a way to blame you for him cheating.

But it isn't my fault, right?

You sniffled as you grabbed your phone and scrolled until you got to Ari's number. He had done more than enough for you and you didn't want to bother him, but the thought of talking to him comforted you. Was it because he looked like he could break you, but showed you a softer side?

You still couldn't believe you cried in his arms the way you did, but it was freeing in a sense to be vulnerable. Ari didn't seem like the type to judge either. A gentle giant.

He said he wants me to go to his next race, so maybe he wouldn't mind hearing from me.

Pressing on his name, you sniffled again as you waited in anticipation for him to answer. Your heart sank as three rings went by and he didn't pick up. He was probably busy between work, practice, and his friends. Or maybe there was someone else.

If there is, I can't be upset. I just got out of a relationship and he doesn't owe me a single thing.

"Hey, Sweetart," he answered on the fourth ring.

"Hey, Beast," you smiled, blood rushing to your cheeks as the nickname rolled off your tongue. "This isn't a bad time, is it?"

"I was just about to take a shower."

"Oh," you said, wondering if he was still dressed or if he was naked.

His massive body probably looked glorious under a spray of water.

Now that image is in my mind.

"I'm sorry I bothered you. I can talk to you later."

"No, no. It can wait," he assured you. "And you aren't bothering me. Told you to call me if you need anything."

"Thanks," you said softly.

You weren't sure what to say next and wondered if it was a mistake to call.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, breaking the silence. “Is he bothering you?”

So protective.

"No, he isn’t, but I don't know if I’m okay. My mind wandered a bit once I finished unpacking and I could feel that I was starting to get upset, so I called you," you explained, wiping at your eyes as you took a deep breath. "And since you aren't here to hug me, I wanted to talk to you. Hearing your voice is making me feel better."

This is the part where he tells me I'm crazy and to lose his number.

"I make you feel better?" he asked after a moment.

"Yeah, you do," you said truthfully.

You almost giggled at the admission. It probably sounded like you had a silly crush on him. Maybe you did. Beyond the physical attraction and intimidating aura was a protective and thoughtful man. He didn't strike you as the type to cheat or hurt anyone without good reason.

So if there was a positive in being hurt by Carter, it was meeting Ari.

"I thought I scared most people," he said quietly.

"You don't scare me," you said above a whisper.

Beast or not, you weren't afraid of him.

"You're just saying that because you want one of my amazing hugs."

"I could definitely use a hug," you smiled, imagining his arms around you. "You really have done a lot to help me recently and I can't thank you enough."

"You have nothing to thank me for. I wanted to help you."

Ari's voice soothed you as you tucked your knees under your chin. "I owe you and the guys pizza and beer, at least."

They took time out of their day to deal with your mess and refused to let you pay them for helping you get your things. You wanted to do something. It was the least you could do.

"Don't tell Barnes and Rogers that because they'll take advantage of your generosity," he chuckled, making you smile. "But if you really want to, I can set something up after the next race. You're still going, right?"

Does he sound nervous or am I imagining that?

"I'll be there," you promised. You wouldn't break your word. "Why do I have a feeling I won't end up paying a cent?"

"Because your money's no good here."

"That isn't fair," you giggled.

"Maybe not, but it made you laugh," he pointed out.

"Yeah, it did," you said.

"So, what's your favorite kind of pizza?"

You spent the next hour talking to Ari, eventually moving from the floor to your bed so you could get comfortable. He kept the conversation light, like he knew you didn't have the energy to discuss anything too heavy. By the time you wrapped up the call, your ex and the unpleasant feelings from earlier were far from your mind.

All thanks to Beast.

Slow(ish) burn of sorts? He'll be so good to you. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Misc. Chris Evans Characters Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #motocross!ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #motocross!ari levinson #beast and sweetart #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you

665 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

Put on a Show

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Female Reader, surprise guest Summary: Nick doesn't like to share, but he'll let you put on a show. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap it before you tap it), possessive behavior, slight dirty talk, voyeurism, exhibitionism, Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Third day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to Nick Fowler and a surprise guest of @rookthorne's choosing! Inspired by this ask here and as a thank you for the beautiful banner (and being awesome in general). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

One thing Nick prided himself on was how well he could read you. Part of his job was to pick up on subtle cues and tells from the people around him. It was only natural that he would use his skills to figure out your likes and dislikes when the two of you started dating. If he didn’t know what you enjoyed, how was he supposed to take care of you?

When it came to what you wanted in the bedroom, he sometimes enjoyed outright asking.

Like tonight.

“Need me to fuck your pretty pussy, sweetheart?”

As fun as it was to whisper dirty words in your ear, he preferred looking into your eyes when he asked what you wanted him to do to you. Watching your dilated pupils peek through your lashes as you pressed your thighs together let him know how badly you wanted him. Which is why he wouldn’t settle for you giving him a single nod.

No, he needed to hear it.

“Use your words. You need me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“With my tongue or cock?”

Your breath caught in your throat, the same way it did earlier in the day when he wore your favorite leather jacket. He owned a couple and considered buying more since he knew how much they turned you on. You liked how he looked in his suits and sweaters, too, but something about the leather excited you. He paid special attention to anything that got a reaction out of you.

“Nick,” you whispered when he nudged your thighs apart with his hand.

“Don’t ‘Nick’ me,” he said, biting back a groan when his fingers found his prize, getting them nice and wet. "Hardly touch you and you're drenched. You know exactly who you belong to, don't you?"

Your back bowed when he shoved two fingers in without warning, but your hips moved to take them in deeper. He didn't care if you ruined the couch. He wanted you to be a writhing mess by the time he finished with you.

“There you go. You can take it,” he smirked, grabbing your chin with his other hand when you tried to turn your head away. “Don’t look at him. Look at me.”

"C'mon, Fowler. Lemme see her."

Nick huffed as he spared Lee a glance. The sheriff smirked back as he palmed himself through his slacks. The man helped him out of a bind when he was still a rookie agent and they ended up forming a partnership of sorts. He was a man who didn't mind getting his hands dirty. He respected that.

"You're seeing plenty, Bodecker," Nick said as he pumped his fingers.

"But she wanted this," Lee said, unbuckling his belt.

"I know she did. I set this up, remember?"

The observant man Nick was, he quickly picked up on the attraction between you and Lee when you met. The sheriff put on the Southern charm for you and you smiled almost bashfully under his gaze. It didn't upset him the way he thought it would, but he did slip his leather jacket over your shoulders to remind his friend who you belonged to. He was never good at sharing.

But knew deep down his partner wouldn't make a move on his girl and you wouldn't leave him for another man.

It didn't stop him from asking you about it later when you were riding him.

"That's it, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on my cock," he smirked, gripping your hips to stop you. "Unless you'd rather be riding the sheriff."

"What?!" you gasped as he tightened his hold on you.

"You like him. Tell me why."

He was still hard inside you when you hesitantly admitted that you thought the sheriff was good looking. You explained that you admired Lee's confidence and respected his position of power. You enjoyed seeing him in his uniform, especially when he put his leather jacket on.

You really did like that look.

But the most attractive feature to you was that Lee reminded you of Nick. The sheriff was a bit heavier than Nick was and didn't have the same scruff he did, but he agreed that they bore a resemblance to each other. They were also men who lived their lives in the gray.

It made sense why you liked him.

"He wants you," he told you.

You squirmed in his lap and shook your head. "Doesn't matter. You said you'd never share me."

"Do you want me to share you?" he asked, watching you carefully.

The few times he caught you lying, you pursed your lips before you spoke. It was your tell. He never pointed it out to you.

It gave him a sense of control.

"No, I don't," you answered, framing his face. "I'm yours and I'm happy with that."

You didn't purse your lips.

"Then why is your cunt clamping down on my cock?"

"Because I want him to watch," you said without hesitation, beginning to ride him again when his grip loosened enough. "Wouldn't you like that? Showing him I'm yours?"

The way his cock throbbed inside you, he loved the idea. It was a bit of a power move. A way to show Lee you were his and make you happy at the same time.

He made the call the moment you passed out.

Lee's only stipulation was that he got to drink Nick's best scotch while he watched.

"I wanna see more," Lee smirked, bringing Nick back to be present. "You didn't answer his question, darlin'. Almost like you wanna be punished."

"He's right, sweetheart," he said as his lips ghosted over yours. “Tell me how you need me to fuck you or I won’t fuck you at all."

"No, please," you whined.

“I’ll cuff you and make you watch as I stroke my cock. I won’t touch you even if you beg," he threatened, nipping at your bottom lip hard enough to make you whimper. "I’ll finish on your weeping pussy and smack it for denying me an answer to a simple question.”

"Not exactly the show I want, but I'd love to see her in my cuffs," Lee said, taking himself out of his pants. "Tick tock, darlin'. Time's a wastin'."

"Cock," you moaned, clenching around Nick's fingers. "Want your cock, please."

"That's my girl. Desperate for my cock," he whispered, taking his fingers out to open your legs more. He'd give you what you needed, like always. "You wanted to look at her. So look."

Lee's teeth tugged over his lip as he stared at your glistening cunt, pumping himself at a slow pace. "Shit, darlin'. Pretty pussy's desperate to be stuffed fulla cock, ain't it?"

"My cock is the only one she'll get," Nick reminded him, that possessive streak starting to show as he released himself.

"Sure she can't give me a lil' kiss?"

"No kiss," he snarled, making the other man chuckle before he leaned back to give you room.

You blew Lee a kiss before you began to straddle Nick, your legs shaking as you faced away from him. It was overwhelming to be at the center of their attention. It was what you wanted.

You'd thank him later.

"Give him something to remember you, sweetheart," Nick ordered as you took in every inch of him.

"You heard him," Lee said, brushing his thumb along the tip of his cock. "Gimme a show."

That's exactly what you did.

Could be fun to visit them again. 😏 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x y/n #nick fowler #nick fowler fanfiction #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler au #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

418 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

All Tied Up

Pairing: Motocross!Jake Jensen x Female Reader Summary: You find a way to distract Jake after a rough morning. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), light bondage, talk of safeword, tiny angst and insecurities if you squint, established relationship, Jake Jensen (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Kicking off my Naughty & Nice Nonsense with Loser and Lucky! Inspired by a conversation with @11thstreetvigilante , who deserves only good things. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When you mentioned experimenting a bit with bondage in the bedroom one day, Jake jumped at the chance. He suggested different ways to tie you up and added that bondage tape would work if you didn't want to use rope. He even added the stoplight system could be a safeword or something like "knack knack". You raised an eyebrow and said he had either done his research or had a partner who tried it with him in the past. Or both.

It was both, but his old girlfriend wasn't you. Not even close. You laughed after a moment and assured him you weren't upset. It would be hypocritical since you had your own past and Jake was your present.

You then asked if he tied up his ex or if it was the other way around.

Again, it was both.

You were slightly disappointed that you weren't the first to try it with him, but you gave him a devious grin after a moment.

“I’ll save it for when you need it,” you said and left it at that.

Until one morning after a rough practice. He was uncharacteristically quiet as the two of you ate and he wondered if his team would eventually leave him behind. As much as he loved racing, that would only take him so far. He didn’t want to bother you with his insecurities. You put up with him enough as it was.

But you must have sensed something was up and that he needed to unwind. Standing in the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but a smile as he got out of the shower, you said you were glad he cleaned himself off. You planned to get him dirty all over again.

There was no finesse when he rushed to bed with his raging hard-on and you were kind enough not to say anything when you carefully bound him. If anything, it pleased you how excited he was. You once told him that he should never be ashamed of his passion, whether it was for you or a hobby.

You teased him with your mouth, but stopped before he could finish.

"Only filling one hole today, big boy," you told him as you took in every inch of him with a moan. "No thinking right now. I'm going to ride you until your brain has to reboot.”

Anyone would shatter if they had Lucky on top of them and he was thankful enough to be yours to break.

He was also amazed he didn't lose it the second you had your first orgasm.

"Jake," you panted as you recovered, pressing your lips against his as he squirmed beneath you. "Why aren't you holding still?"

Maple.

He could still taste the sugary syrup on your lips from your earlier meal, the flavor dancing on his tongue. Sweet, but not as delicious as the nectar between your thighs. The same juices that currently seeped around his cock.

And you weren't done yet.

"Because your pussy keeps clenching around me and I can't get my hands on your perfect tits," he pouted before you kissed him deeper.

And I'm so close to blowing my fucking load.

"Aww. These perfect tits?" you asked, leaning back so he could get a good look. His glasses would have fogged up if he had them on. That's how hot you looked. "Remember the first time you felt me up? You moaned so sweetly. Made me feel beautiful."

"You are beautiful," he moaned.

The tender smile on your face as you moved above him was an image he'd dream about.

"Still not touching my tits," you winked.

He never thought he'd be jealous of your hands, but watching you bring them to your chest to grope yourself? Pinching your nipples and rolling the hardened buds between your fingers? Yeah, he was jealous. So jealous that he whined when he thrust beneath you.

"Let me get my mouth on them if I can't touch. Please, baby," he begged, the breath punching out of his lungs as you lifted your hips and slammed down.

"Not yet," you smirked, moving your hands from your chest to his thighs.

Tease and I love it. I love everything about you.

"When?" he asked, staring shamelessly as your breasts bounced.

"Soon," you promised. "You good?"

"Green," he moaned.

He wondered if you kept him bound just to see if he'd free himself from the restraints. He had the strength to do so, but he wouldn't. You made it clear today that you called the shots.

“You may want my tits, but I know what you really want, Jakey,” you smirked as he felt his cock slide along your walls. “You want to fuck up into my tight pussy until I scream your name.”

Jake gritted his teeth as struggled to not do just that. He also wanted to flip you over and pound you into the mattress so you’d feel him for days. He felt you throb around him and knew you were as desperate to come again as he was to fill you up.

“I’ll scream it,” you promised him, shuddering as you moved faster. “How can I not? Such a big cock and it’s all mine.”

“It’s yours?” he grunted, thrusting up enough for you to feel it. By the mewl you let out, he hit the right spot. “Like your pretty pussy’s all mine?”

“All yours,” you panted as your hands suddenly moved to the headboard, leaning down enough so your breasts moved in his face. “Now let me make you feel good.”

Do whatever you want, Lucky.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth and moaned as you fucked yourself on his cock. He let you take because you always gave everything back to him. Your passion matched his own. How is he lucky enough to call you his?

“I want you to come on it,” he urged, flicking his tongue on the hardened nub. “Please, Lucky.”

Jake wasn’t sure if it was his plea that made you climax, but you coated his thick cock with your wetness once again. He smiled as he heard the sound of his name in the room. You screamed it just like you promised. Even when your head dropped to his shoulder, your trembling body still moved so he could join you in euphoria.

“Come in me,” you said against his skin.

You barely got the statement out before he let out a loud groan and sprayed your slick walls with his hot, thick spend. You whimpered as he finished, his taut body relaxing as you both tried to catch your breath. He wanted to wrap his arms around you, but he’d settle for you keeping your body against his.

Right where you belong.

"You okay?" you asked after a minute. “I mean really okay?”

Jake nuzzled against you as much as he could, the softness in your voice bringing a smile to his face. "Yeah."

"Talk later?" you asked.

"Once my brain reboots," he joked, forgetting all about his rough practice.

I love you. Thank you.

“Not tapping out are you?” you breathed out, smiling against his skin when he groaned. “I came twice. How many more before you break free?”

You made it to three.

I adore this couple. I can't help it. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Misc. Chris Evans Characters Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x female reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x y/n #motocross!jake jensen x reader #loser and lucky #jake jensen #motocross!jake jensen #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen imagine #jake jensen au #motocross au #dialed in: motocross au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you

487 notes · View notes