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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 6 months ago

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Picking Sides

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Cas & Winchester sister, Jody & Winchester sister, Mary & Winchester sister (all obviously platonic)

Synopsis: you get in a fight with Mary, and when Sam and Dean take sides you go to find someone to be on your side.

Warnings: feelings of abandonment, angst with a happy ending

You were hiding again. These days, it felt like you were always hiding. The bunker used to feel like home, but that home got smaller and smaller until the only place that truly felt like a sanctuary was your bedroom.

It didn’t feel fair to think that the arrival of your brothers’ mom took away your home, but that’s how you felt nonetheless. You wanted to be happy for them more than anything—your big brothers were everything to you, and they got back someone they had lost, someone they loved.

But that someone just so happened to look at you and see only the result of her husband with another woman. You knew it had to hurt—from her memory, it must feel like she’d last seen John only months ago, even though it had been over twenty years. So seeing his daughter—the one he had with another woman—being treated like family by her boys…that had to hurt. You understood that hurt, and you felt sorry for Mary because of it. But what you didn’t understand was why she had to make you hurt with her. Maybe she didn’t mean to—you couldn’t believe the worst about Sam and Dean’s mom, you just couldn’t—but it felt like she never wanted you there. And that disdain was starting to affect Sam and Dean. They could tell when their mom wasn’t happy, and it put them on edge. Because of that, tensions just kept rising until finally you decided that hiding out away from the common areas was best for everyone when Mary was around.

This strategy worked out well back when Mary wasn’t around much, but she’d been hanging around the bunker a lot more now, and it just wasn’t working. You couldn’t be in your room all the time, but any time you bumped into Mary the two of you seemed to get into a fight about something. Today was no different.

You only ventured out to get some food from the kitchen—but of course Mary had to be there.

“Where have you been?” She questioned, though she kept her voice low.

“Just my room,” you mumbled as you started to assemble a sandwich.

“The boys could’ve used your help, you know. They’re doing a lot of research.”

“I’ve got a laptop, I’m doing my own research.” You tried not to sound too snarky, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it came out that way…just a little.

“Well it would make things a lot easier if you’d join the group,” Mary chided. At this, you scoffed—you couldn’t help it.

“Like you even want me as part of the family,” you challenged.

“I said group, not family. You’re not family,” she insisted, her tone still neutral and her voice still low. Something about her trying to keep this horrible conversation nice and quiet just made you want to scream it all the louder. Unfortunately, you did it at the wrong moment.

“Says the one who hasn’t been here for twenty years! Don’t pretend you’re more of a family to Sam and Dean than I am!”

“Hey now!” Dean’s voice snapped you out of your anger for a split second, and turned it to shock—you didn’t know he was so nearby. “That’s enough!” He directed his anger towards you—of course he hadn’t heard Mary’s words.

“But I was just—“ you began, but Dean didn’t let you get far.

“I don’t care what you were doing, I heard enough! Now I think you should go to your room.”

You took a deep breath, desperate to tell your side.

“But you didn’t hear—“

“I heard enough!” Dean was yelling now, and his sudden rise in anger had you taking a surprised step back. “Now go to your room! You’ve done enough damage.”

“B-but De—“

“I said go! And don’t you come out. I’ll come get you when I think you’ve had enough time to think about what kind of consequence your words have. Go!”

It wasn’t often that Dean looked so tall—he was always the “short one” compared to Sam. But now—looming over you like the shadow of a mountain, nothing but anger written on his features—no one had ever looked bigger, and you had never felt smaller. Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more pathetic, you felt tears start to prick behind your eyes. You twisted around and ran for your room before Dean could see them.

You made sure you were well behind your door with the lock in place before you felt safe enough to let the tears fall.

…

Mary was silent as she watched you run. There was a cacophony of thoughts banging around in her head, and it was so distracting that it took a moment for her to hear Dean talking to her.

“Mom? Mom?” Dean was right in front of her when she finally snapped out of it. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what’s been going on with her lately, but she shouldn’t have said that to you. I’ll talk to her.”

But Mary didn’t want that. In fact, she felt sick to her stomach. Ever since she had learned about your existence, she had felt almost in competition with you. Somehow, you being the result of John’s relationship with another woman made Mary feel as though you were somehow responsible for it, or complacent with it. Deep down she knew that that was wrong, but she couldn’t help the feelings. So instead, she had been justifying them, and using those feelings as an excuse for how she was trying to win the boys’ affection over you.

But just now, she had seen you for what you really were—not competition for her sons’ affections, not some sick reminder of John’s love being given to someone else taunting her; no. She had seen a scared little girl being rejected and reprimanded by her big brother and father figure, and it had been Mary’s fault.

“No, Dean…” Mary sighed. “I wish you hadn’t done that. She didn’t deserve it.”

Dean was confused. “But she—“

“I said some things to her that…well, let’s just say I deserved what she said. I mean it Dean, I screwed up, not her.”

Dean looked torn for a moment—after all, the only part he had heard were some awful words on your part—but then the scene replayed in his mind, and he saw you; your hands were shaking, your lip was quivering, and Dean had just kept on yelling.

“Oh man,” Dean sighed. “I need to talk to her.”

…

You didn’t let the tears fall long before you made a decision; you couldn’t stay here. You could deal with Mary not wanting you here, but you couldn’t deal with your brothers choosing her over you. That was the last straw.

You had a bag packed far too quickly, and you found yourself lingering in your room, trying to find an excuse not to go. This was your home—you didn’t want to leave.

Then an image of Dean screaming at you flashed in your mind—

“I said go! And don’t you come out.”

This wouldn’t be a one-time thing—it couldn’t. Dean had picked Mary over you, and it would only get worse. You had to go.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and went straight for the door.

“Hey.” Sam’s voice broke your stride for a moment, but you didn’t stop. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Out for a walk,” you huffed.

“I thought Dean told you to stay in your room,” Sam challenged. You froze for a moment.

“You heard?” You asked, hope sparking in the back of your mind. Maybe Sam would be on your side!

“Not everything,” Sam admitted. “But enough. I think you should stay in your room.”

Disappointment didn’t begin to cover what hit you then—Sam, taking Mary’s side too, without even knowing the whole story!

“And I think you should mind your own business,” you grumbled, going out and slamming the door behind you.

…

There was a cab waiting for you—you’d called one while you were packing—so you were already being carried away from the bunker by the time Sam followed you out the door.

The cab took you as far as the bus station, and from there you got on the first bus that would take you to Sioux Falls—to Jody.

You’d been praying to Cas since you’d left, but he must’ve been busy in heaven or something, because he hadn’t come. So Jody’s it was.

…

“I was wondering if you were going to show up.” Jody’s greeting when you arrived on her doorstep was less than conventional.

“What?” You questioned as she let you into the living room.

“Your brothers have been calling me every ten minutes for the past two hours, hoping you’d find your way over here. They’re worried about you.”

“I don’t know why,” you muttered under your breath, but Jody caught it.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Those boys worry over you like mother hens, they always have.”

“Not lately,” came your dull response. “Lately Mary’s more important.”

“Hey, now that isn’t fair,” Jody argued. “They just got her back from the dead. Just because their attention is a little divided—“

“It’s not that.” You huffed. “She doesn’t want me around. And they’re starting to take her side. They used to treat me like their sister, and now they…” you cleared your throat, blinking fast suddenly. “And now they treat me like…just John’s illegitimate kid. And I know that’s what I am, I just…I never felt it before.”

“Wait, kid…” Jody sighed, her hands coming up to hold onto your shoulders. “Kid, that is not who you are. You are so much more than that, and I’m sure if we talk to Sam and Dean, they’ll—“

“No,” you insisted, starting to panic. “I don’t want to talk to them right now, I just can’t. Please, you can’t tell them I’m here.”

“They’re gonna call again,” Jody said.

“You can’t—“

“Y/N.” You were interrupted by a flutter of wings and the deep voice of your favorite angel. “I heard you, what’s wrong?”

“Cas.” Your panic ebbed as you lurched forwards and wrapped your arms around Castiel. He held you close, quick to ask again—

“What’s wrong, what happened?”

“She ran away,” Jody spoke up. “Problems with Mary.”

“Oh, little one…” Cas sighed. “You—“

“Don’t tell me to go back!” You said as you pulled away from Cas. “You haven’t been here, you don’t know what it’s been like!”

“They’re your brothers,” Cas argued.

“But they don’t want to be. They want their legitimate family, and I’m not gonna get in the way anymore.”

“Hey.” Cas bent down to better look at you. “What makes you say that?”

“They just took her side.” You found it suddenly hard to speak around the lump in your throat. “De just-just took her side without even asking me what happened. He screamed at me, I’ve never-I’ve never seen him so angry before. He wanted me to go away, so-so I went. And Sammy didn’t even know what happened either, but he took her side too!”

“What did happen?” Cas asked gently.

You shook your head, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Cas reached down and hooked his fingers under your chin, tilting your downturned head up to look at him.

“It matters to me.”

Your lip was quivering and your hands were shaking by the time the first tears fell.

“She said that I’m not family. I mean I-I always knew she didn’t want me around, but…” you swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to stifle your tears. “But she’s never been this mean before. She said I’m not family, Cas. And Sam and Dean took her side.”

“They agreed with her?” Cas’s face was scrunched slightly in confusion.

“N-no,” you admitted. “But when I tried to argue with her, Dean yelled at me.”

“You should talk to them,” Cas suggested. “I’m sure that’s not what he meant.”

“I don’t want to talk to them. Cas, please,” you pleaded.

“Alright, alright,” Cas relented. He was going to make you talk it out with your brothers…later. Right now you were too angry, too hurt. You just needed someone you could trust, and Cas would be that for you for as long as you needed before he could fix your relationship with your brothers.

“They’re going to keep calling,” Jody spoke up.

“Don’t answer, please,” you begged.

“Then they’ll just come here,” Jody said.

“I’ll talk to them if you don’t want to,” Cas said. “Please let me talk to them. I know we can fix this.”

You were silent for a moment, letting yourself process before you spoke.

“I don’t want to see them right now.”

“Then you won’t,” Cas promised. “Just let me talk to them.”

“Ok,” you sighed after another long moment. “But…Cas? Can you…will you…please just don’t take their side,” you pleaded. “Maybe it’s not fair to ask, I just…I just need someone on my side.”

“I’m on your side,” Cas assured you. “Always.”

…

“They’re here.” Jody’s announcement had you more nervous than you thought you’d be. The fear that Dean might yell at you again—this time for running away and disobeying him—was suddenly very real.

It was weird to be afraid of your big brother; it was unnatural for you. But you couldn’t get the image of him screaming at you out of your head, neither could you get the feelings it gave you to go away.

“Y/N?” You snapped out of your thoughts to see Cas standing in front of you. “I’m going to go talk to them, alright?”

You glanced out the window, hoping the sight of your big brothers might somehow give you a different—better—memory to focus on. Instead, you saw a third figure exiting the Impala with the boys; Mary.

“They brought Mary.” Your voice came out barely above a whisper, but still Cas heard and turned to look out the window.

“I’m going to talk to them,” he repeated, only this time his tone was devoid of comfort and filled with rage.

…

“You should wait in the car.” Cas directed his order at Mary, who looked taken aback.

“I came to—“

“If you value your immediate safety, do what I said.”

Mary retreated to the Impala without another word.

“What was that?” Dean demanded. He hadn’t heard Cas talk like that in long time—unless it was to a demon.

“Don’t question me,” Castiel barked. “Not after what you did. And especially not after you brought her—“ Castiel gestured towards the impala, where Mary was waiting— “here. Do you know what she said to your little sister?”

“I don’t—“ Dean began, but Castiel interrupted him.

“No, you don’t, because you didn’t ask. You didn’t get her side, you just yelled at her.”

“And I’m trying to fix it,” Dean said.

“Well she doesn’t want to talk to you.” Castiel crossed his arms in front of him, all but blocking the doorway. “You did that, Dean. Your own little sister is too scared to talk to you, because she thinks you’ll yell at her again. She thinks you’ll pick Mary over her—again.”

“Cas, c’mon,” Dean pleaded. “I want to tell her I’m sorry. Just let me talk to her.”

“I already told you—she doesn’t want to.” Cas left no room for argument.

“Look,” Dean sighed. “Just tell her I need to talk to her. Tell her—“

“Tell her I’m sorry.” Both Dean and Cas turned at the sound of Mary’s voice as she stepped out of the Impala. “Please Castiel. Tell her I was wrong, and that I’m sorry.”

Cas stared at Mary long and hard before seemingly coming to a decision.

“Come with me.” Cas led them into Jody’s house, but stopped them firmly in the living room. “Stay right here. I’m going to go talk to her.”

Cas’s departure brought silence into the house for several long seconds.

“Do you mean it?” Dean’s sudden question threw Mary for a moment.

“What?”

“The apology. Do you mean it? Because on the off chance that she actually lets us in there, and you get to say that apology, you’ve gotta mean it, because she’s going to know.”

Mary was silent for a moment.

“I do mean it. Look, things have been…hard for me. I know to you guys, your father had years to mourn me before your little sister happened. But for me—it feels like I just woke up, and suddenly I find out my husband had a child with another woman. It feels so wrong; but I know that it isn’t Y/N’s fault, and I know that I was wrong to blame her for it. And I see how close the two of you boys are to her—and how close she is to you; that’s going to have to be enough for me. So yes, I do mean my apology—I truly was wrong.”

“Ok.” Your voice startled mother and son, who both whirled to face you.

“Ok?” Mary asked tentatively.

“Well, no,” you amended. “It’s not ok. But I do forgive you.”

“Understood,” Mary said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “And thank you.”

“Things can’t stay the same,” you continued. “I can’t be treated like an outsider in my own family anymore.”

“I understand that too,” Mary promised. “Things will change—I will change them—I promise.”

“Ok then.” You sighed, your eyes flickering over to Dean. The silence went from contemplative to awkward very quickly.

“I’m going to go wait in the car,” Mary said quietly, slipping out the front door to give you and Dean some private time.

“That went well,” Dean said awkwardly.

“Don’t make jokes,” you commanded.

“I’m sorry.”

“You hurt me.” You forced your gaze not to waver as you confronted your big brother. “Not just because you yelled at me; because you picked her side without even listening to me. It was like I didn’t even matter.”

“Y/N—“

“No. It’s my turn now. It’s not just Mary that has to make things better at the bunker. I-I can’t live with being walked over or ignored because you guys choose her. I know she’s your mom, and I would never, ever ask you to choose me over her. But she would, and she has. And you’ve picked her. And that hurts, De.” The tears in your eyes were threatening to fall, but you refused to let that stop you. “It really, really hurts.”

“Sweetheart…” you were in Dean’s arms before you could even think about protesting—not that you wanted to. It felt like it had been forever since his arms had been around you—since you had felt so truly at home. “N/N I’m so, so sorry. I’m not gonna let that happen again, ever. Even if Mary goes back on her promise, and she doesn’t change things, I will. I’m not gonna let anybody walk over you again. You’re important to me—I’m never going to let anyone tell me to choose someone over you, never. I know that doesn’t take back what I did—what I said to you—but…but can you forgive me anyway?”

Your grip tightened on Dean, and he didn’t try to pull away.

“Of course I forgive you.”

“So…” you let Dean pull away from you, but he kept hold of your hands. “So you’ll come home? Sammy’s waiting with some ice cream and another apology for you.”

You giggled, wiping the remaining tears off of your cheeks.

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll come home.”

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee

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notafunkiller · 1 year ago

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wait for hours

Summary: Bucky and you have a small fight about making him attend a business dinner on your one-year anniversary.

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x secretary!reader

Warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), org@sm denial/edging, teasing, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 1.9K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I wrote this blurb based on @marvelouslizzie’s prompt: “You want me to put it in you, don't you?”

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You know he is mad. You could sense it right away at work and also in the car. But you don’t regret it, it had to be done.

“Why did you even bring me here if you aren’t gonna talk, James?”

Your head is spinning only from the way he’s pacing around.

He puffs. “You wanna talk now?”

“You are such a kid,” you say, sighing.

“I am the kid?”

You’re surprised by how high his tone is.

“Why are you so bothered? I did what I needed to help you.”

“I don’t care! You knew tonight is off limits. It was supposed to be about us!”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down a little. You don’t want to fight. You never do when you disagree, and this is silly.

“We can do it another time. We both know how important this is, so why are you so mad?”

“Because this is our one-year anniversary and we always…”

You sigh, standing up. “He wouldn’t have waited, and I don’t care if you think: then his loss. This is your company! You need this investment.”

“You made this decision for me!”

“Good,” you snap. “Someone had to, I wasn’t going to let you waste a great opportunity just cause you are not in the mood for another business dinner.”

He steps toward you so fast you don’t even realize for a second. “Yeah, sorry I am not in the mood for a business dinner when I could be buried inside my girlfriend in our private jet as we fly to Europe.”

“Who said I wanted to go in the first place?” You look him in the eye, challenging him to answer you. You’re not gonna let him intimidate you. Not that he wanted that.

“Then I could have made you come on my tongue after dinner right here.”

You roll your eyes. “All you can think about is sex.”

“All I can think about is you, but you decided to-”

“To do the right thing.” You interrupt him immediately. He’s so stubborn sometimes!

Bucky sighs, bringing his hands to your cheeks. “Are you bored with me?”

What. The. Fuck.

“Are you drunk?” You ask despite knowing it’d be impossible. But how can he ask that?

“Are you bored of me, honey? Is this why you keep me a secret?”

“Bucky!”

“I wanted to make it official like what? A thousand times?”

You sigh, bringing your hands on top of his before leaving a kiss on one of his palms.

“I am not bored of you, Jamie. But work is work. He knows-”

“I want everyone to know!”

You understand, but at the same time there are more consequences to consider before making the decision to get public. “Know what? That you’re fucking me?”

Now this is a thing you regret saying. The expression he has on his face breaks your heart.

“That’s all you think this is?”

Oh, you fucked up! This is not what it is, and you know it. You both had been trying to fight it off, to ignore the tension for over a year. Until you just couldn’t anymore and gave in.

It was clearly more than sex from the start. He didn’t even try to seduce you, and you were only going out on dates for weeks. And if he wanted sex, why he’d make such an effort when you’re sure he can get a girlfriend or a one-night stand or even escort services. He didn’t try to buy you. But would the office understand?

“No, James.” You kiss his other palm, trying to show him how you actually feel. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“When would it be, then? Or would it ever be a good idea?”

He’s more than upset now, his chin is trembling and the way he keeps staring at you makes you want to cry.

Such a horrible situation…

“When I’ll change my job,” you murmur, stroking his cheeks. “This way, they wouldn’t call either of us names and your reputation would-”

“I don’t care about it, okay? About what they’d say about me, and I certainly wouldn’t let them talk shit about you. What you did for the company is amazing.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “I am your secretary, Bucky. My job is to please you and do the best to assure the company’s success.”

“Fucking bullshit!”

“Hey, it’s true. You know very well how people would talk about both of us, and rumors would spread, and sure, men would pat you on the back at first, but some might hate the scandal. And I would be treated like a...” You don’t want to finish your sentence; well aware he knows what you mean. “You cannot protect me from this no matter what you do. And you cannot ruin your company! Do you want to do this just for public claim?”

“I want to hold your hand so badly everywhere...” He sighs, moving his hands from your face to his own hair, pulling it a bit too harshly. “I want to be able to leave with you home and not make Sam wait for you on the parallel street.”

You know and you feel the same way. Sometimes you find yourself imagining how things would be if you gave in and just not care about it, but there’s about so much more than you. You know how important his partnerships are, how hard he actually worked. He might not be a billionaire, but he is very rich and affords many things. He pays everyone well, including you, as wrong as it might sound.

“I’m gonna think about it, okay? I love you so much!” You take a step closer, getting on your tiptoes so you can kiss him a little. “I am sorry for making you feel like this, you’re not my dirty secret. But I don’t regret saying yes to this meeting. You weren’t going to agree, and we both know this is really important. We can celebrate later or tomorrow night. We can go anywhere you want. Just know I love you.”

Bucky says nothing for a while, his face emotionless as he thinks about what you said.

“I love you, too. Now I want you to get your clothes off and get on the bed.”

You raise your eyebrows at the change in his attitude. What the fuck!

“What?”

“Don’t act as if you don’t want it. You were teasing me all morning. And during the breaks!”

You cannot even deny it because it’s true. Yesterday you were both too tired to even eat when you got home, let alone have sex, and you woke up really horny.

“Don’t you need to get ready?”

He smirks in that way that you hate so much, and you sigh.

“You got one minute, baby.”

You quickly take off your shirt and pants before unclasping the bra and placing it on the nearest bedside table. You let on your panties, eager to see him tear them off as you sit on the edge of the bed.

But he, surprisingly, doesn’t do that after he drops on his knees in front of you and spreading your legs.

You get on your elbows just to watch him. He smiles cheekily, happy with the extra attention you give him, as he hooks his finger around your underwear and moves it to the side, holding it there as he starts to lick your slit.

“Yesss!” You throw your head back, knowing how much you’re going to enjoy this.

He’s a little too slow compared to the usual, but it still feels good, especially when he brings his tongue to your entrance.

You manage to hold back for a while, not letting your hips move until you realize he doesn’t intend to change the pace. With your fingers through his hair and another hand grabbing the sheets, you try to get his tongue inside you faster. But he doesn’t want that either, so you pull his hair a bit harder out of frustration.

“If you want it slow, at least use that tongue on my clit.”

He snorts, amused and does what you told him without protesting. But instead of feeling better because he’s licking your clit, it’s even worse.

You both know that you hate when he’s doing it slowly, so that’s annoying you even more. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose.

You try to tilt your hips more, showing him he needs to hurry up, but he places his right hand on your tummy and pushes your back to the bed again.

“Come on, Bucky! What is this?”

He smiles against your clit and suddenly starts to lick faster. And faster. And faster.

“Yess, yess.”

You pictured him like this before you got together. You imagined countless of scenarios with him eating you out on his desk or on the couch in his office, in the car or in the meeting room. You did that so often it became a habit, but you didn’t expect it to be that good. And he’s somehow getting better every time. Even when he’s torturing you.

When he starts sucking on your clit, though? You feel on fire. You let out the loudest moan before grabbing his hair.

“Yes, sooo c-close. Gimmie a finger, Jamie.” His eyes are on you as you speak. “Please!”

He stops sucking just to breathe on your clit, making you shiver. “Now why would I do that?”

You open your eyes confused.

Does he mean he wants to fuck you?

You’d love that, truth be told, so you push him away a little and get on your ass on the bed. You immediately move your hands down, trying to find his bulge over his pants.

Yeah, you totally missed that.

“I guess foreplay is done. You can fuck me now.”

Bucky laughs. He laughs! Then he brings his hand to cover yours and helps you get a better feel of his cock. Fuck, he’s so hard!

“You want me to put it in you, don’t you?”

“I’m still close.” You whine, surprised by your own body reaction. “Just get inside me, okay?”

“Why would I do that, honey?”

You give him the most confused look ever. “W-what?”

“You’re not gonna come tonight. Or well, until I get back from my meeting. Not on my fingers, not on my mouth, and definitely not on my cock. “

The world is spinning around you. He’s not serious is he.

“Aww, what’s wrong? Who’s the one thinking only about sex now?”

“You’re joking, right?”

He cannot do this. He can’t...

“I should get ready for the meeting.” He tries to get up, but you grab his hand.

“Are you punishing me for doing the right thing for the company?”

He senses you are close to tears so he leans in to kiss your forehead. “No, baby, why would I punish you for that?”

“I don’t know...”

“Maybe this is for thinking our anniversary is not important for me” He cups your face. “But I promise tonight will be great.”

You can’t even say anything, squeezing your legs together, still turned on.

“No touching either. You don’t get to come until I come back, okay?”

You sigh, pouting. “I’ll try, daddy.”

Bucky bites his lip before he kisses you properly. “You won’t try, you will do it for daddy, okay?”

You nod, staring at his chest. “Can I help you clean?”

“As much as I’d love that, if we go in the shower together, I don’t think I’ll leave.”

Damn it... now you have to wait for hours.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo!bucky #rich!bucky barnes #rich!bucky #millionaire!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #my stories #my fanfics #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n

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wolverigrl · 3 months ago

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Scorched Earth

Logan Howlett x mutant reader

!Disclaimer! Y/n is a mutant with the same skills as the human torch! Let me know if you'd like to read another part!

Warnings: mentioning of alcohol and death, angst

Enjoy!

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“Bobby, for real, you can’t possibly think that’s better than mine!” I laughed, leaning back on the chair in the kitchen, feet propped up on the table. Across from me, my brother grinned, folding his arms over his chest with that cocky smirk of his.

“You’re just jealous I got the better nickname.” Bobby replied, his voice light, teasing. “Iceman? It’s sleek, it’s cool - literally - and it fits me.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Oh, please. ‘Iceman’ sounds like the title of some second-rate action movie. Meanwhile, I’m lighting up the sky over here.”

Bobby raised a brow, feigning offense. “That’s a lot of talk from someone who’s still stuck with ‘Firecracker.’ ”

I punched him lightly on the arm. “I’ll take ‘Firecracker’ any day over your ‘cool’ puns.”

Our banter was easy, the kind that came naturally after years of being siblings. Bobby had always been the steady one, the one who could calm everyone down with a joke, while I was the hothead - pun intended - never one to back down from a challenge. It’s what made us a good team, even if we drove each other crazy half the time.

The way he carried himself, his calm demeanor, and his unwavering sense of control over his powers - everything I wasn't.

I was the fire to his ice, the chaos to his calm. We clashed often, but it wasn’t because we didn’t care. It was because we cared too much. And despite all the bickering, all the teasing, there was a bond between us that no one could break. I’d die for him. He was my anchor when my temper flared, my tether to reality when my powers spiraled out of control.

Just as I was about to throw another sarcastic remark his way, Logan walked into the room, his usual gruff self. He barely acknowledged us, heading straight for the fridge. Typical.

“Hey, Logan!” I called, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. “Did you finally get that stick outta your ass, or is it still lodged in there pretty good?”

Logan froze mid reach for a beer, then slowly turned his head, giving me the look - the one that said 'I am not in the mood for your crap right now, bub.' But that just made it more fun.

“Don’t you have somethin’ better to do, hotshot?” he growled, slamming the fridge shut and twisting the cap off his beer with more force than necessary. “Or do you just live to run your mouth?”

I smirked, unfazed. “You know, it’s funny you say that, because I’ve noticed you love listening to me. Maybe it’s because no one else has the guts to call you out on your eternal grumpiness?”

Bobby snickered from beside me, enjoying the show. “She’s got a point, man. You’re not exactly known for your sunny disposition.”

Logan shot Bobby a glare before turning his attention back to me. “Maybe I’m grumpy ‘cause some people around here don’t know when to shut up.”

“Oh, come on, Logan. You’d miss me if I didn’t poke at you every now and then.” I said, leaning forward with a grin. “Admit it - you secretly love the banter.”

Logan let out a low, frustrated growl, shaking his head as he took a long swig from his beer. “The day I admit that, is the day hell freezes over. And even then, I’ll blame Bobby.”

Bobby grinned, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, don’t drag me into your weird dynamic. I’m just the innocent bystander.”

I shot Bobby a mock glare. “Innocent? You? Yeah, sure. Tell that to the last five people you pranked.”

Logan huffed, clearly done with the conversation, but I wasn’t quite finished yet. “You know, Logan.” I continued, leaning back again and stretching my arms behind my head, “You really oughta work on that sunny disposition. You’re gonna give yourself wrinkles with all that frowning.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, jaw clenching. “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and keep that fire of yours under control?”

“Oh, I keep it very controlled, thank you very much.” I said, flashing a smile. “Besides, you seem to enjoy living dangerously. Why else would you keep hanging around us?”

Logan shook his head, muttering something under his breath before retreating to his usual corner of the room, beer in hand, grumbling the entire way. Bobby leaned in toward me, his voice low enough so only I could hear.

“I still think you’re his favorite.”

I laughed quietly, watching Logan brood from across the room. “Nah, he just hasn’t figured out how to handle all of this yet.” I gestured to myself with a playful smirk.

“Sure, that’s what it is.” Bobby chuckled, leaning back with a relaxed sigh.

Despite Logan’s gruff attitude and my constant teasing, there was a kind of unspoken respect between us. He was the first to step in when things got dangerous, always willing to put himself on the line for the team. And even though he’d never admit it, I knew he appreciated having someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge him, to call him out when he was being extra cranky. In a way, it kept things balanced.

Bobby and I exchanged another look, both of us knowing exactly how this dynamic worked. I teased Logan, Logan growled, and the world kept spinning. It was our version of normal - a delicate balance of sarcasm, snark, and the occasional grumpy Wolverine glare.

It was one of those rare moments when everything felt light, even if just for a little while. Days like these, with Bobby teasing me, and Logan grumbling from across the room, were the best. I’d give anything to hold onto them.

But life as an X-Men had a way of reminding you that those moments could be fleeting.

And I didn’t know then just how fleeting they would be.

Todays mission was supposed to be a standard takedown. Another mutant extremist group, radicalized and bent on 'mutant supremacy'. Charles had briefed us thoroughly, and we had faced worse before. Or at least we thought we had.

It went south almost immediately. We were outnumbered, and it was clear that our enemies had intel we weren’t prepared for. They knew where we would be, how we would strike, and worse - they knew how to separate us. That was when things really started to fall apart.

The battlefield was a mess of chaos and screaming. Blasts of energy, ice, and fire lit up the sky, while the air howled with the sound of Storm’s winds tearing through enemy lines. I was a blur of fire and fury, every step a combustion of flame as I ripped through the chaos, throwing up walls of fire to keep enemies at bay. But no matter how hard we fought, there were too many. We were getting spread thin. Too thin.

I caught sight of Bobby ahead of me, just in time to see him raise an enormous ice wall to shield a group of our teammates. His back was to me, and before I could shout a warning, a blast from one of the enemy’s weapons slammed into him, sending him sprawling across the ground.

“Bobby!” I screamed, my heart lurching.

He struggled to get up, one knee bent, but the blast had been too much. His walls of ice began to crack and crumble around him. Panic rose in my throat like bile. He was surrounded, the enemies closing in.

I pushed forward, flames erupting from my palms as I blasted through the mob, trying to reach him. “Hang on, I’m coming!” I shouted, but my voice barely cut through the cacophony of combat.

But I wasn’t fast enough.

Before I could get to him, a second blast hit him. The impact was devastating. I saw his body jerk violently before he collapsed, crumpling like a rag doll on the cold, scorched ground. Time seemed to slow, my breath caught in my throat, and everything else faded away.

“No!” My scream tore from my chest, broken and raw, but there was nothing I could do.

He was still, too still.

I scrambled toward him, my flames fizzling out as I dropped to my knees beside his body. I reached out, hands trembling as I gently touched his face. His skin was cold, colder than it should have been. His chest didn’t rise. His eyes were closed. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I couldn't hear anything except the roaring silence in my own head.

He was gone.

“Bobby, please…” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Please don’t leave me.”

I don’t know how long I sat there, holding him, begging for him to come back. I couldn’t save him. I. Couldn’t. Save. Him.

Then, something broke inside me.

The grief, the rage, the helplessness - everything surged at once, overwhelming every rational thought. The fire inside me, the power I always tried to control, flared up in an instant. It wasn’t just fire anymore - it was fury, pure and uncontrollable.

Flames erupted from my body, hotter and fiercer than they ever had before. I screamed, the sound ripping through the air as fire exploded in all directions, a supernova of heat and light. The ground beneath me cracked, molten lava seeping from the earth as the intensity of my power burned through everything in its path.

I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to.

The flames raged out, consuming everything they touched. The enemy soldiers who had killed Bobby screamed as they were incinerated, their bodies turning to ash in mere seconds. The ground smoked, trees around us igniting in a blaze, and the air became thick with heat.

Jean’s voice echoed in my mind, faint, as if she was shouting at me from the end of a long tunnel. “Y/n, stop! You have to stop!” Her voice was desperate, but I couldn’t listen. Couldn’t hear her over the roaring firestorm inside me.

Storm tried to summon her winds, pulling clouds thick with rain to douse the flames, but it wasn’t enough. Even the sky couldn’t hold back the inferno that had taken over me. I felt her power strain against mine, but my emotions fueled the fire, making it burn hotter, stronger. I was losing control completely, my body heating up like the core of a star.

“Y/n! You’re going to kill everyone!” Scott shouted through the comm, his voice barely audible over the roaring flames. I could see them, all of them, struggling to get away from the heat, the fire spreading in every direction.

Charles reached out, trying to touch my mind, but I was beyond reach. His calming presence couldn’t get through the thick walls of grief and rage that had consumed me.

I was going to burn everything. Everyone.

Then, through the haze of heat and fire, I saw him.

Logan.

He was moving toward me, slow and steady, ignoring the screams of the others as they begged him to stop.

“Logan, no! You’ll die!” Jean’s voice, frantic, but he didn’t listen.

“Logan, don’t!” Storm shouted, the wind whipping around her, but he kept walking, one foot in front of the other, his eyes locked on mine.

I couldn’t stop the fire. I was too far gone, too lost in my own power. The heat radiated off me in waves, scorching everything in its path, and yet he kept coming.

His skin started to blister almost immediately. The heat was unbearable, even from where I stood. I could see his face contorting in pain, could smell the sickening scent of burning flesh as he got closer. His clothes were already charred, the leather of his jacket melting and fusing to his skin. But he didn’t stop.

I wanted to scream at him to get back, to stop, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was watch in horror as he walked into the flames, his healing factor struggling to keep up as his body was scorched by the heat I was putting off.

And then he was there, standing right in front of me, his skin bright red, his hands trembling as the fire licked at his skin. His face was a mask of pain, sweat and blood mixing with the charred burns that covered his arms and neck. But his eyes, his eyes were steady.

“Y/n.” he said, his voice low and raspy, strained from the pain. “You need to stop.”

“I can’t!” I gasped, my breath catching as the flames flared up again, fueled by the storm of emotions inside me. “I can’t control it. I-I’m going to kill you, Logan!”

“I don’t care!" he growled, taking another step closer, his boots melting into the molten ground. His body trembled, his skin bubbling and cracking under the heat, but he didn’t back down. “I’m not leaving you.”

Tears streamed down my face, evaporating the moment they hit the air.

His eyes locked onto mine, unwavering, even as the flames licked at his skin. His face contorted in pain, but he didn’t stop.

“Bub.” he rasped, his voice hoarse from the heat. “You need to let go. I know it hurts, but you gotta stop.”

I couldn’t hear him over the roar of the fire. I was too far gone. The heat, the flames, my emotions - it was all consuming me. I was a supernova, and there was no pulling back.

Logan took another step. His healing factor was working overtime, but even he couldn’t withstand this for long. Yet, he didn’t hesitate.

“Y/n!” Logan yelled, louder this time, and I felt his words cut through the haze. “I know what it’s like! To lose someone - hell, to lose everyone! You feel like you’re gonna burn up inside. You feel like it’ll never stop, like you’ll never breathe again. But this ain’t the way!”

I felt the fire flare around me, almost as if it were trying to drown out his words. I wanted to listen, but the grief, the rage - it was still so raw. Bobby was gone. How could I stop the fire when everything inside me was screaming to let it burn?

But Logan didn’t back off. He stepped into the heart of the inferno, his arms opening, and wrapped me in a hug. The flames surged as they met his body, and I could feel his skin burning under my touch. I could smell it. His face twisted in agony, but he didn’t pull away.

“Let it out, hotshot. Let it all out,” Logan whispered, his voice softer now, almost tender. “But don’t burn yourself with it. You ain’t alone. I’m here.”

I could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breaths ragged from the heat, but his arms around me were steady, grounding. In that moment, the fire faltered, flickering as my mind struggled to grasp what was happening.

Logan - the one person who could barely stand to be in the same room as me without a sarcastic remark - was holding me, burning alive in my fire, all because he wouldn’t leave me alone in my pain.

And then, I felt it.

The fire started to die down, the flames retreating into my skin as I began to sob against his chest. The heat that had consumed me so completely, so violently, began to ebb, leaving behind only the suffocating weight of grief. Logan’s chest was soaked with my tears as I clung to him, my body shaking with the force of my cries.

“I couldn’t save him, Logan." I choked out between sobs. “I couldn’t- ”

“I know." Logan murmured, his voice rough but soothing. “I know, bub. It’s not your fault.”

The last of the flames flickered out, and the air around us was suddenly cooler, still. Logan’s body, still blistered and burnt in places, didn’t move. He just held me tighter, letting me cry into his chest, never once letting go. I buried my face into the fabric of his ruined shirt, his heartbeat the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

After what felt like forever, I became aware of the world around me again. The sounds of the battlefield had quieted. Jean, Storm, and the others were slowly approaching, their faces a mix of worry and relief.

“We need to get back to the mansion,” Scott said, his voice soft but firm. “Y/n, Logan… let’s go.”

Logan didn’t move to let me go, and I didn’t want him to. The thought of being alone right now, without the steady warmth of his presence, was unbearable.

“Can you walk?” Hank asked me.

Logan shook his head, giving a low grunt of pain as he stood up, still cradling me in his arms. “I got her.”

I felt Logan’s arms adjust under me as he began to walk, carrying me like I weighed nothing. I should’ve been worried about him, should’ve told him to let me go, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I pressed my face into his chest, feeling the burn marks on his skin, the roughness of his wounds. He was hurting because of me, but he didn’t care.

The journey back to the mansion felt like a blur, the sounds of the battlefield fading into silence as Logan carried me, step after step, his breathing labored but determined. I clung to him, my body exhausted, but my mind still racing with grief and guilt.

When we finally reached the mansion, Logan carried me straight to my room. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and laid me gently on my bed. His face was tense with pain, but his movements were careful and protective.

I reached out, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave. “Don’t go... please.” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I-I don’t wanna be alone.”

Logan’s eyes softened, just for a moment. He gave a small nod and sat down on the edge of the bed, his weight making the mattress dip slightly. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer any more words of comfort, and for that, I was thankful. I didn’t need words. I just needed him to stay.

I curled into his side, my head resting against his chest once again. His heartbeat was slower now, more even, though his body was still warm from the burns. He didn’t flinch when I pressed closer, seeking the comfort of his presence. His arm wrapped around me, holding me close, and for the first time since Bobby died, I felt a small flicker of something like peace.

As I sobbed into Logan’s chest, my body exhausted from the emotional and physical strain, I felt his hand gently stroke my hair. He didn’t say anything, just let me cry. His presence as steady as the heartbeat beneath my cheek.

The tears slowly began to subside, my body relaxing into his as the exhaustion took over. I was grateful for the silence, grateful for the way Logan just was - strong, unyielding, and never pushing me for more than I could give.

Eventually, my eyes grew heavy, the grief and pain pulling me into a restless sleep. The last thing I remembered was the feel of Logan’s hand still in my hair, his quiet strength wrapping around me like a protective shield.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself drift into sleep, safe in his arms.

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ficsilike-reblogged · 1 year ago

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Hungry For Heaven

Summary: Beau knows he shouldn’t have feelings for his young, pretty secretary. But he can’t help it. Pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 4.6k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is my second entry for the 80’s Rocktober Challenge hosted by @roosterforme - I picked Dio’s song “Hungry For Heaven.” I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, Cain is a creep for plot reasons, my gratuitous use of italics and song lyrics, a coyote ugly reference, female receiving oral sex, power imbalance

His girl. Cyclone’s girl. Simpson’s girl. The Admiral’s girl. That’s how most people referred to you when speaking with Beau. And he had never admitted how much he liked it, instead telling people to at least acknowledge your rank. But in the dark of his rooms, in the recesses of his mind, Beau liked it. He liked that you were his.

Sort of.

Beau knew it was cliche. Falling for his young, pretty secretary was probably the most cliche thing that he could have ever done. But it hadn’t been a choice, really. You had appeared one day, three years ago, like a whirlwind and Beau had been left in your wake. You kept a tight ship, just as he did. You had been a perfect match for him, keeping him organized and on time for all his meetings and classes. You had made the mountains of paperwork he was always saddled with much easier to swallow and he had thought he was dreaming when you’d first handed over a thick stack of papers and told him he just needed to sign at the bottom of the last page. You’d basically done a week of reports for him and had left Beau with a pen in his hand and a tight stomach as you sauntered back out of his office. But that was what you did, he learned. You made his life easier. Gave him time to breathe. You were his girl.

It was more than a little embarrassing to realize his…affection for you was noticed by anyone. Thankfully, the only person he knew for a fact suspected anything was Admiral Bates, who had quietly told him that it was about time he was happy. Embarrassing. It was a kindness, true, but Beau would have preferred if he hadn’t said anything at all. These feelings were inappropriate and completely against Naval regulation and protocol and he couldn’t stop.

“You’re not staying much later, are you?”

Beau looked up from his computer, reading yet another request from Maverick about his insane dog fight simulations he wanted the newest Top Gun class to try, to see you in the doorway of his office. The usual, soft smile was on your face—the smile he liked to think you reserved just for him. His mouth curled up at the edges too; he couldn’t help it. “Just trying to rein in Maverick.”

You scoffed and shook your head but your smile remained. “You’re going to be here all night, then. Again.”

Beau had to hide his laugh behind his hand. You knew him too well. “I won’t.”

You hummed, obviously not believing him. “I’ll order you dinner. Do you want Chinese or Italian? You had barbecue two nights ago.”

His heart twisted, like it usually did whenever you so easily showed how well you knew him. “Italian, if you could, Lieutenant. With-”

“With extra breadsticks, I know. I’ll make sure they don’t forget again.”

You were gone from the doorway before he could thank you but you returned not thirty minutes later with his promised dinner and another smile. A cursory glance let him know that the extra breadsticks were indeed included this time and you set a silverware roll from the mess hall beside the bag.

“You’re too good to me, Lieutenant.” Beau winced as soon as the words left his mouth but you simply smiled. “And I thought you were on your way out for the weekend?”

Your smile widened. “I am. But I wasn’t about to leave you hungry.”

Beau’s entire chest ached and he tried to smile again but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Big plans?”

“My friend’s bachelorette party. We are going bar hopping after getting pole dance lessons.” You paused before a grimace crumpled your features. “You didn’t need to know that. I apologize. That was unprofessional.”

Beau felt his throat bob, mouth suddenly dry. Seeing you in your khakis or in any of the other Naval uniforms had been all Beau had been given, aside from when you needed to grab something from your office over the weekend a few months ago and he got to see you in a sinful pair of shorts and low cut top. But imagining you in one of those tight, tiny dresses he knew women your age wore and learning how to dance like that had his stomach in knots.

He was being unprofessional. He was supposed to be the one who approved or rejected paperwork for relationships like this. He wasn’t supposed to be wanting one. And he wasn’t even sure if you saw him as anything other than the old man who needed help keeping his meetings and paperwork in a row.

Sure, you joked with him, nursed a glass of expensive bourbon with him after the Uranium Mission, and Beau liked to think he caught you appreciating the view when he partook in the swim call during your last shared deployment and you handed him a towel to dry off…but that did not mean anything in the grand scheme of things.

He knew that.

But he couldn’t get you out of his head.

“I hope you have a good time. You’ve certainly earned it. I know I run you ragged here.”

The hard line of your shoulders lessened and your smile returned as you shook your head. Your hand settled over his and you gently squeezed his fingers, touch not retreating immediately and Beau tried not to revel in it too much. “I love working for you. You have to know that by now.” Beau watched your mouth open again before you bit your lip.

Beau could imagine a million different things you could have said after that. But you didn’t say any of them. You didn’t say anything at all aside from a soft, “anyway, have a good night, Admiral. Please don’t stay too late.”

And then you were gone, leaving Beau alone with the scent of your floral perfume, the echo of your warm hand on his, and an ache in his chest.

It was fine.

This was fine.

He ate his dinner as he tried to find the least insane simulation Maverick had requested and hoped that it would end well next week. Honestly, having the Captain as the permanent Top Gun instructor was bad for his heart.

“Are you coming?”

Beau looked up from his paperwork to see Admiral Cain in his doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Oh, that was right. Cain had been invited to see the current Top Gun class in action. The higher ups thought it would be a way to “soften” Cain’s animosity toward manned aircrafts. It was ridiculous because Beau outranked Cain and he still walked around like his shit didn’t stink.

Mostly what it did was raise Beau’s blood pressure and had you running circles around base trying to keep Cain out of Beau’s office. It was a valiant effort, Beau knew, but Cain hardly ever followed any recommendation from someone who he deemed ‘beneath him.’

He glanced down at the calendar on his desk and saw your neat handwriting over today’s date. Drinks with Cain? :(

Dammit.

“Yeah, let me just clean up and-”

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes.” And then he was gone, too.

Biting back every swear he’d ever learned, Beau stood and cleared his desk of his dinner’s trash and filed everything away to deal with on Monday. He pulled on a different shirt and slacks he kept in his office’s closet for times like this and tried not to seem too unenthusiastic when he met Cain out in the parking lot. The effort was completely negated when the other man started bragging about the bar he wanted to try, touting that it was apparently popular with younger women who preferred older men.

And while Beau did think of you for a moment, his stomach still rolled with the thought that Cain was on the prowl for someone younger when Beau knew that he had a wife and kids waiting at home for him. But still, he went, knowing the higher ups would frown at him not wanting to “play nice.”

(Beau pocketed the thought that he could have Cain dishonorably discharged if he actually did something.)

The drive to the bar was thankfully short and Beau had repeatedly told himself that it would be fine to leave after one overpriced drink before parking. He could hear the classic rock pouring from the stout brick building and he could still hear the waves crashing against the shore as he stepped up toward the front door. The bouncer at the front waved him in and Beau saw Cain already striding up toward the bar, turning his head to watch as a woman, carrying a tray of shots to a different table, walked by.

Cain settled at the bar and Beau begrudgingly stood near him and waited for one of the three bartenders to take their order. When they were noticed, Cain was more than a little shameless with staring down the bartender’s shirt when she came to their corner of the bar top so Beau made a mental note to give her an extra tip with his drink as a silent apology.

“What can I get started for you?” She asked, turning to Beau with a roll of her eyes. She’d apparently already had a long night.

“Cognac, please.”

The bartender quirked an eyebrow but almost smiled. “You seem like a top shelf kind of guy. Am I right?”

Beau nodded and watched her grab a bottle of cognac he also had in his personal bar back home (where he’d rather be, but that was beside the point) and poured a few fingers of it into a glass before setting it atop a monogrammed napkin and pushing it in front of him. He handed over his card without a fuss and she seemed grateful when he didn’t ask to open a tab.

Beau vacated his spot at the bar after leaving his promised tip and it was quickly taken by a woman who had to be about your age with a sash across her chest that read “Made of DisHonor” in bold, pink lettering. It was funny—there must be a bachelorette party here somewhere.

Again, he thought of you—you had said your friend’s bachelorette party was tonight.

As Beau settled into an overstuffed booth near one of the stained glass windows, he saw Cain still at the bar, now turned around to lean against it as he sipped on his martini. His gaze was bouncing from one woman to the next while completely ignoring the other men who would have probably preferred his spot at the bar to order. But it hardly mattered, really. Beau would have been content with finishing his drink by himself and not interacting with Cain at all. But Cain did eventually did spot him and Beau raised his glass in half hearted welcome but hoped that it would not be taken.

Cain didn’t pick up on the abject disinterest on Beau’s face and started to make his way over. Dammit. However, he made it only a half dozen steps before getting pulled to a stop by a woman in a tight dress and a bright smile.

Damn. All right. Apparently the reputation this bar had was not completely unfounded.

Beau was quick to drag his gaze away from the uncomfortable scene and spotted the girl with the sash walking away from the bar with a tray of what looked like Jell-O shots in her hands. Beau watched her go with a smile, remembering his days back in college when his tongue was blue from drinks like those. She quickly passed out the small plastic cups and the grip Beau had on his cognac nearly slipped when he recognized one of the women in her group.

You.

God. You had always been beautiful but right now you were truly something else. Sinful and ethereal all at once. Stunning. Short dress. High heels. Burgundy lips. You were dressed for the festivities. Your sash read “Miss Behaving.”

Of course it did.

The bride, a cute woman in a tiny white dress with a giant white bow on the back of her head, herded everyone a little bit out of the throughway so a small group of men could get to the bar without needing to walk around. And you ended up closer to him. He could hear your laugh over the music as your friend pushed one of the Jell-O shots into your hand.

“I’m driving tonight! I can only have one drink.”

The woman with the Made of Dishonor sash pouted but still made sure your fingers were curled around the tiny plastic cup. “You said that at the last two bars, too. That’s why I got you a non-alcoholic Jell-O shot. Congrats. That is pure sugar and water, babe.”

You laughed and Beau found himself smiling at the sound of it; he liked hearing you be happy. And he should have known that you would be the designated driver for your friends—you were always taking care of someone. (Usually it was him.)

He watched you and your friends take the caps off the shots and clink them together with a shout of cheers for the bride as he took another sip of his own drink. It nearly came right back out as he coughed, watching your tongue skirt around the plastic.

“There we go!” The bride cheered before patting your cheek with uncoordinated fingers but you laughed anyway. “I want you to have fun. Have fun with me.”

“I am having fun! I promise,” you said before catching her hand and kissing her fingers, earning a giggle of your own. “And tonight isn’t about me!”

“I picked this bar for you!” The maid of honor said with a laugh of her own. “I was hoping I would be able to get your mind off that man who shall not be named.” “No, you chose it because they let you dance on the bar.” “That’s besides the point,” she retorted, finger pointed in your direction. “Two birds, one stone or whatever.”

“What?” The bride asked, dragging out the single syllable.

The maid of honor shook her head. “Babe, it has been over a year and you’re still hung up on him. You either need to get under him or get over him.”

You swirled your finger around the empty, plastic container, pretending to care about the remnants of your Jell-O shot. “I can’t help it.”

“What’s so special about him?” Another woman asked, stealing a second shot. “A year’s a long time.”

“Oh no,” one of your friends groaned. “Don’t get her started.”

The bride pouted again. “But I wanna hear it. I don’t hear anything anymore! I don’t even know who we’re talking about!”

“I’ve told you about him twice but that just…doesn’t matter,” you said, probably noting how intoxicated she was at the moment. “You’re busy with wedding planning, sweetheart. We don’t want to bother you.”

She waved it away, pout persisting. “Tell me. Tell me right now! I’m your best…” she hiccuped. “Best friend. Tell me.”

You licked your lips before sighing. “He’s…my boss.”

There was an answering squeal from the bride and a few others in your group before you waved it away with a halfhearted scowl, like you were trying to keep the smile from your face.

The grip on his drink was near painful now.

You were talking about him. You had been hung up on him for over a year.

“He’s just handsome and kind and funny. He’s nice when he wants to be and he’s always nice to me.”

“But not to everyone else, right?” The maid of honor said, sounding like she’d heard this before.

Beau adjusted his posture to try to hear your group better over the blaring guitars and thumping drums. He wanted to know what you had been saying—apparently repeatedly.

“Yeah. I mean, he runs a tight ship-”

“That is a terrible pun.”

“-but he tries to keep everyone safe and he just expects everyone else to do the same. So-”

“You’re burying the lede here. He’s smoking hot. A complete silver fox who’s got a banging bod.”

You gaped at the Maid of Honor’s outburst and Beau watched your mouth open and close a few more times without a single word coming out. Is that what you had told your friends?

“And he’s sweet to you?” The bride repeated, hazy eyes sparkling. “You hafta marry him.”

“They’re a sight for sore eyes. Good choice.”

Beau felt something in his neck pop when he quickly turned his head to see Cain settling opposite him in the booth. The other man’s eyes were dragging all over your group without a care in the world. Dragging all over you. “Did you strike out?” The words were out of his mouth before he could even begin to think of a different response. “I saw you talking to someone else.” It was a pitiful recovery but Beau hid his distaste for the entire situation behind another gulp of his liquor.

Cain’s mouth curled into a scowl for a moment. “You’ve been sitting here alone all night. You’re not doing any better.” A familiar sneer pushed at his features before he once again looked at your group. “Are you one of those that just likes to look?”

Thankfully or not, Cain didn’t wait for an answer and stood again, making his way over to your group. Just for a moment, Beau thought about just leaving. Just getting up and leaving and pretending this entire night never happened.

“A-Admiral Cain.”

Your voice cut through Beau’s thoughts with ease.

“I…I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Cain squinted at you, probably trying to place your face and Beau saw the exact moment Cain recognized you, a smirk pushing at his mouth. A few of your friends started whispering into each other’s ears, probably wondering if this was the Admiral you were hung up on. “Ah, Lieutenant, I should have known it was you.”

“Oh?”

Cain’s smirk grew. “Yes ma’am. I think I’d recognize that-”

Beau had heard quite enough and stood abruptly, cognac still in his hand. “I think we’ve had enough tonight, Admiral. Time to head out.”

The shock on your face only grew more apparent as you looked at him. “Admiral Simpson. Um…h-hi.”

“That’s him,” the maid of honor hissed into the bride’s ear.

Cain’s eyes were hard as they bored into the side of Beau’s face. He could feel them. But he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were even more beautiful up close. Dammit. Again.

“Why don’t we let the ladies decide if I’ve had enough?”

Your eyes went wide and you took a step in front of your friends, hands fanning out to keep them behind you. “I apologize, sir, but I don’t think that is entirely appropriate.”

“It could be our little secret and shouldn’t I be the one who says whether or not something is inappropriate? I’m sure we can all keep a secret.”

Something Beau had spent years trying to suppress started to bite at the back of his mind. Cold rage. He moved to step in front of Cain, blocking you from the other man’s gaze. “We’re done here, Cain.”

The tense line of his shoulders relaxed when he felt your warm hand press against his back. A quiet thank you. And the simple touch had warmth bleeding over him.

“We are just about to leave-”

“Bride and babes!” The bartender who had served Beau hollered. “You’re up!”

The maid of honor let out a curse and muttered something about never planning anything ever again before pushing everyone toward the bar again. And then Cain was saying something, Beau could hear the rumble of his voice at the back of his mind like a buzzing fly, but Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you.

You as you tugged down your skirt after it had ridden up when you climbed.

You as you helped the bride step onto one of the barstools.

You as you followed suit until you and the rest of your friends were lined up on the bar.

“Ladies and gents,” the bartender’s voice cut through the din of the bar just before the last song ended. “We have a special group here tonight. And they want to put on a little show for you all.”

The crowd gave a raucous cheer and then the opening chords of a song he knew well swelled over the bar’s speakers. And then you (and your friends) started to dance. It was filled with spins and giggles followed by twists and turns that had your legs nearly glowing in the low light of the bar as Dio continued to sing.

You're in danger, the last of a line

But the vision lasts forever…

The watching crowd hollered when you and the maid of honor showed off the moves you must have learned at your pole dancing lessons on either side of the bride. Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you. Wouldn’t.

“I see it now.” Cain’s voice pulled his attention for just a moment. “You want her all to yourself.”

He didn’t deign it worthy of a response. And honestly, what could he say? Denying it would be fruitless and accepting it would be handing over power to Cain. So, Beau said nothing.

The young just getting older

We are sunlight

We can sparkle and shine

And our dreams are what we're made of… He just watched you.

He dragged his eyes up your form and saw you looking straight at him.

Just hold on You can make it happen for you Reach for the stars and you will fly You're hungry for heaven Hungry for heaven Hungry for heaven But you need a little hell, oh, hungry…

And, just for a moment, Beau felt like you were doing this all for him. This entire show was for him. That little dress and the way you inched it up your thighs as you moved was for him. The burgundy-tinged smile was just for him. The way your half-lidded gaze never strayed far from him in the crowd was for him. And maybe it was. Maybe it was all for him because as soon as the song ended and you helped your giggling friends off the bar—taking extra care to help the bride down as she poked at the tip of your nose—you turned to him. While your friends were swarmed by other patrons of the bar who had appreciated the show, you only looked at him. And then you were moving, pushing your way through the accumulated crowd and toward him. You licked your lips just before you slowed to a stop in front of him and Beau tracked the movement with his heart hammering in his throat. “Did you enjoy the show?” And what was he supposed to say to that? He had the wherewithal to notice Cain had retreated to a darkened corner with another drink and a different woman, his attention completely diverted. Beau paused for a moment before nodding. What good would lying do now? Something had shifted, irreparably changed. For better or worse.

He could smell your perfume again as you moved closer, closer, closer. God, you were beautiful. And a voice that sounded almost like himself was screaming at the back of his mind that this was wrong, this was against all sorts of Naval regulations, that this would only end poorly- But it quieted as soon as your fingers pressed against his chest. He could feel each of your breaths against his mouth. He could smell your floral perfume with each of his own inhales and wanted to bury his nose in it. In you. But what Beau happily noticed was the lack of alcohol that hit his nose. You were sober.

He knew adrenaline could make people do things that were out of character. Plenty of pilots, himself included, had landed their jet and jumped out, heart hammering and nerves buzzing. Maybe it was that for you, high off the little performance. Confident enough to approach your direct superior in a crowd. You sought him out. There was a silent conversation between you; were you going to do this? Could either of you stop? And Beau surged forward with his inevitable answer, closing the gap.

You tasted like heaven. Sticky sweet with a bite of something else and your hand gently curled over his chest as you sighed against his mouth. Your fingers inched up to press at the side of his neck as he licked between your lips.

Every sigh, every little noise, every brush of your mouth against his had his heart racing. This was what he needed, what every part of him had wanted since you had first spent the night at his side, helping him do monotonous paperwork. Just you, in his arms, and your taste on his tongue.

He didn’t even recall pulling you toward the small hallway that led to the bathrooms but he felt your smile against his mouth when he backed you against the wall. Your next breath puffed against his wet lips and your eyes still sparkled in the hallway’s shitty light. “We might have fifteen minutes before someone comes looking.” “I can do a lot in fifteen minutes.”

The bathroom door creaked when he pulled you through it and the lock gave an answering click when he engaged it. You were soft everywhere and Beau groaned against your mouth as his hands skirted up your thighs, dragging the minuscule skirt of your dress with it. And you were sweet everywhere, too, as he tugged the tiny scrap of lace between your thighs to the side and drank you down. Your hands curled into his hair as he pulled one of your legs up and over his shoulder. He kept you upright as each flick of his tongue had you shaking and whimpering and filling his mouth.

He could do this forever, even if his knees ached and his trousers were unbearably tight.

Just as you shook in his grip and he felt you sliding down his chin, there was a sharp knock at the door.

“We’re leaving! I’m giving you exactly thirty seconds to meet us outside.”

Beau recognized the maid of honor’s voice on the other side. It was quickly followed by a chorus of giggles. But he hardly heard any of it as you sighed and curled your hands beneath Beau’s chin and pulled him up with a gentle tug. You kissed him, undoubtedly tasting yourself on his tongue, as your thumb swept gentle circles against his cheek.

Your eyes were hazy and half-lidded again and you stole another kiss against his mouth when he pulled your dress back down.

“You can definitely do a lot in fifteen minutes, Admiral.” Your finger swept beneath his lip, gathering the evidence of your secret and you licked it away. “I’ll return the favor. I promise.”

Before you slipped away from him again, Beau kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough of it, of you. Nor the soft laugh you let out as you whispered you’d see him on Monday.

Monday was going to be interesting. He didn’t know what it would bring, how any of this would turn out, but he had hope. And he liked to think you did, too.

Beau couldn’t wait.

A/N: please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

#top gun rocktober #Beau Simpson x reader #beau cyclone Simpson x reader #cyclone x reader #tgm fic #tgm #female reader

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I really like your Twisted Wonderland work!

I was hoping if you can do House Wardens/Vice Wardens/First Years (pick which one is easier for you) react to a Fem! MC that's like Nanami Kento from Jujutsu Kaisen?

It's ok if you don't feel like doing this! I hope you have a lovely day 💕

Nanami Kento Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’re well dressed, unemotional, and fairly powerful. Facts are everything to you as well as convenience. You’ve been told you don’t act your age but you don’t care, being as strict as you are surely you're better off than most. Your future lovers friends don’t think the same and they can’t help but try to stoke the flames of your heart with their own:

Epel Felmier

“C’mon (Y/n), please don’t tell! I want to stay with you!”

“I don’t want to entertain your antics at my expense. Vil will be informed, shortly.”

“Noooo!”

That’s the greatest challenge when he’s pursuing you

Even with Rook and Vil policing his time and behavior

you are the apple of his eye

Always out of reach, it gets tiring really quick

Eventually he can’t help but use his training with Vil to bulldoze over his obstacles

All so he can focus on you

And solely you

By the time he’s done he’s only focused on conquering you

Granted you’ll surely fight him but facts are your jam, right?

So its a given you two will be eternally bound together

Ace Trappola

“Whoa whoa why are you getting all bent out of shape?!”

“I doubt that’s all I should be doing. Considering I’ve found you stealing from my laundry.”

“But (Y/n)--Ahh! Now the butcher’s knife!” You both clash far too often

But man, does he love it

The small side-eye when he’s annoyed you enough

The way you so cooly take down any body who dares bother you in NRC

The way you perfectly attack whatever you slice at

It all leaves him swooning

You have a tough shell but he’s going to break it

But in the mean time he’ll break the greedy nuisances in your favor

It bothers to emote to them all

So consider their deaths it a gift

Sebek Zigvolt

“HOW DARE YOU–”

“Quiet. Lower your voice–”

“WHY SHOULD I–”

“Or I will make it so you cannot raise it again.”

He’s floored by your audacity

But you look beautiful doing that

Always dressed to the ‘T’

He only wishes to be graced by your praise

You don’t do that often

Which is why when he’s assured his Malleus -Sama is well protected

He darts to follow your every move

Waiting for that acknowledgement silent vow to an eternity together

Steam-rolling puny humans is of second nature to him

Especially if they’re also on the path to you

Deuce Spade

“P-please don’t talk to him anymore, he’s dangerous!”

“Is he? So now you are the expert?”

“N-n-no! I’m just looking out for you!”

“Than don’t.”

He wishes to reach your level one day

So beautiful, so strong, so irresistible

He’s not bad if he goes to defend your honor

Even if those offenders want to idolize you too

Jack Howl

“How is your training?”

“It is…fair.”

“As expected it’d be foolish to learn the power of cursed energy in such a short time.”

“Give me time, (Y/n)! I’ll take you on oneday!”

With a mate as desirable as you he knew he’d have to fight

Just not you

And on top of that the same is for his rivals

But he’s determined to have you

So dispel your stubborn rationality and let him protect you

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere jack howl #yandere jack twst #yandere epel #yandere epel felmier x reader #yandere epel felmier #yandere deuce spade #yandere deuce x reader #yandere deuce spade x reader #yandere sebek x reader #yandere sebek zigvolt #yandere sebek twst #yandere ace trappola #yandere ace x reader

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jolalibrary · 1 year ago

Text

stockings and stars

javier peña x f!reader

summary: Still need the star putting on the top of the tree. ive got other plans for you Because I’m the star? yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

from the late night texts world - but can still be enjoyed on its own. chapter warnings: allusion to/mentions of smut. no actual smut. javi undresses you, though. flirting. fluff. reader wears red lingerie and a dressing gown. javi flirting. sexy talk, romcom vibes ofc ✨ wordcount: 3k

an: to @goodwithcheese merry christmas from me, to you. thank you for everything, for the tuesday fun we have - i wanted nothing more than to have this out sooner, but life, you know? but, i adore you. and I'm so glad we found one another. ahuge thanks to @thetriumphantpanda who cheerleaded for me throughout.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Will I be seeing Santa Javi today? I want to decorate my tree.

one time I come to yours in a red shirt

You also had the tree under your arm and a bag of baubles, I’d class those as gifts.

keep talking baby and you can decorate your tree alone

Think I’m gonna wear that shirt you left here while I do it. Make sure I have to get up on my tip toes. Hope it doesn't rise up...

you don’t play fair

I think I’ll be in stockings too…

youre killing me

Maybe they’re white and red, and…

baby if i wasn’t putting this thing up for Pop, i’d be driving over right now

Hope you hurry up, I need someone tall to put the star on top of the tree.

how am I gonna eat you out when youre perched on the tree baby

The last thing on his to-do list from his Pop is to hang the front porch garland.

He had learnt there had been a huge difference in the front and the back porch garlands. A fifteen-minute-long difference when he'd timed the response given to his sarcastic answer.

Javi learnt there was not only one for the back porch and the front, but one which sat across the fireplace and one on the staircase.

He learnt that after he'd made a joke about mixing them up—earning himself a very pointed glare, and the task of the front porch.

Now, it’s a battle he’s losing.

Tremendously so.

While he’d never want his Pop to do the more challenging tasks, he did rather hate he hadn’t thought to trade this one in for the back porch at the very least—because that had looked fucking easy.

Holding the garland in hand, he’s suddenly hit with a second wave of nostalgia, the first having arrived when he'd pulled down the box and peered into it.

It did the same thing as it had done then, all but rushed over him, layering itself on his shoulders, sitting, nothing short of a comfortable weight on him. Letting his gaze fall out over it, he smiles at the tuffs of fabric, all the bows tied by hand, all in an array of sizes and shades.

Over time, he can see how they've become sun-dyed, remembering the first year they'd been sewn into the faux greenery by his mamá, memories of her all hunched over, humming carols.

Smiling, he rolls his lips, letting out a heavier sigh than he intended as he drags it to the post he’d begin at.

But, all he wonders is whether in the years he wasn’t here, whether it was occasionally hung—or if this year is just that special.

The mere hint that he was going to ask if you wished to spend Christmas at the ranch had sent his Pop into overdrive. Practically yanked him out of his chair like he’d been electrified, a bunch of orders being flung from under his white, wiry moustache that they needed to get ready.

He wasn't sure he'd get the image of his Pop suddenly scrambling around like a man half his age, to drag the decorations out from the cupboard, would ever be erased from his mind. Least of all the sound you'd made aww'ing down the phone when he'd given you a condensed version of the story.

Because he hasn't asked you yet, not properly.

Even though he's spent the last two days at the back of barns and spending a ridiculous amount of time at the hardware store—because we need to make sure the lights stay up, Jav.

He just hasn't found the right time to ask you. A promise each time he goes to see you left in the air. Not that his Pop remembers that, instead he's just busy thinking up ways to make it special: one of which includes decorating the trees at the entrance to the ranch.

An idea having sprouted with the newest ranch hand—one which, if Javi overheard correctly, involves rope acting like tinsel and a cowboy hat being the star on the top of the trees.

Feeling his phone vibrate, he temporarily ignores it as he begins to weave the beginning of the garland around the wood—already knowing, before he tries to move it around the spindles, that it isn’t going to be easy.

Because nothing ever fucking is.

Least of all when you’re waiting for him.

His mind begins to concoct images of you in bows and sheer material, lips painted, sat waiting, smelling nothing short of heavenly as you call out for—

“Fuck,” he shouts, dropping the garland to the ground.

It had pricked him, stabbed him right in the skin—hand shaking the pain out, face likely all scrunched. And, if it didn't have sentimental value, he's sure he'd have kicked its protesting ass with everything he had. Instead, he just narrows his eyes more than he had done moments ago as he begins again.

He feels his nostrils flare when it begins to undo itself. The sound of faux bristles on wood grates him before it will even attempt to do what he needs it to.

And it makes him want to quit, to throw it back into the box and tell his Pop it isn’t worth it. But he knows it is. Knows that his mama didn’t spend hours bent over under flickering light for it not to be seen.

Javi also strongly suspects you’d love it. Likely run your fingers over several bows asking who made it. He can even imagine the look of joy on your face when he tells you.

It’s why, if he didn’t already suspect it anyway, he’s pretty sure his Pop loves you more than him. Because even the first Christmas he was back, there weren’t this many decorations; not nearly as much need to have them all out, either.

Not that Javi really minds—or blames him.

There’s a notable shift in energy when you stay over. Even more so in him. He can see there’s a cheer and a glow to the place—one Javi hates watching vanish when he takes you back to your place.

It's why, when—and where—he can, he fights for you to be here. Practically finds convincing ways to do so, including, crossword puzzles, dinner, and two-person showers. But, at some stage, your clothing dwindles, underwear runs low, and he has to make the painful drive into town to return you to your place.

Your fingers in his hair, practically clambered into his lap as you whisper that you’ll be back before he knows it. His fingers on your chin, thumb stroking out the words he says right back—that he’ll miss you all the same.

Javier Peña. Texan softie—what will the world think?

He only thinks one thing when he drives back—a response which had been there on his lips. Guess they’ll see just how much I love you. A thing you know, comment on, say back to him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. An array of promises there, sometimes spoken at a normal level and sometimes whispered.

You always keep them, just like the one that you are always back before he knows it.

He likes it when you are. Enjoys it when you’re nestled beside him, arm across his chest, hand close to his ribs—strumming them, tracing lines and words he tries to understand before sleep takes him.

He still always sleeps better when you’re beside him. When his breathing can mirror yours, when he can feel for you in the night when he’s awoken with nightmares and things he knows won’t ever come true.

Now, he’s fighting a different battle. One to get to you.

Halted in his path to freedom by the garland which refused to be hung, and could be labelled as giving him more grief than the horses which had banded together. A phrase he never thought he’d admit out loud, never mind think.

You still fighting with the garland?

baby its torturing me on purpose

Do you want me to come and help?

will you come in the stockings

No!! Your dad is there.

then stay there actually lie down, but do not begin without me

Still need the star putting on the top of the tree.

ive got other plans for you

Because I’m the star?

yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

Hurry then.

i’m hurrying

He does hurry—practically scratched up by the time he’s parking his truck outside your place.

As he takes the step up to your door, Javi realises how much he misses it here when he doesn’t visit. A place less frequent and often spent time in, even under your insistence of renting it.

It is always usually a stopping point, him parking up, letting you go in and grab what you need before you're back in his truck, heading back to his.

He does like your place though, likes how small it is, how cosy. Plus, it has all the things which make you, you. A thing his place is currently missing.

Although, as he steps through the door, and calls your name, he does have to admit it currently looks fucking ridiculous.

On a good day, he’d describe your place as crowded, but right now, it’s claustrophobic.

The tree you’d forced him to get is shoved into a corner, branches fluffed out, surrounded by the piles of unpacked boxes you’ve tried to discreetly hide. Your remaining floorspace is overtaken by a bit of rug, several piles of books (you have no room for, but continue to buy) and odd bits of furniture you find and attempt to restore.

For the most part, you’ve decorated. A thing you did inform him of.

You’ll be pleased to know when you get here your only job is the star. managed it all yourself, did you I’m a very competent woman, Javi. oh i know baby ive seen you with a crossword Does that do it for you? Me finishing a crossword. does something to me Get over here. im leaving now

There’s a warm, comforting glow spread out across the place from the fairy lights you’ve hung and the array of mismatched decorations—both bought and handmade—hanging from branches.

He breathes in the scent of orange which hangs in the air, his eyes finding the culprit on your fireplace, a garland—one not dissimilar to the one he’d been battled with—places there, mocking him due to the ease of which had been laid, with oranges and little beads all entwined within it.

Snorting, he glances back at your tree, spotting the things he's been with you when you've bought. And, as promised—and informed him through text—there’s nothing at the top of your tree.

“You finally made it!”

Spinning on his heel, he comes face to face with you, and fuck if the sight of you doesn’t make it all worth it.

Dressed in a red, silky dressing gown, all tied in the middle, you're a vision. Then, there's the fact your lips are painted a shade he’d now famously dub Christmas red, a colour he wants nothing more than to be stained with. A path of it from his mouth down to the space where his jeans meet his hips. A thought which seems to only make how tight his jeans are even more uncomfortable.

“Cariño, you’re…”

You sway a little, letting the fabric move—allowing his gaze to land on the stockings. The ones he’s been thinking about all afternoon. The ones he can’t wait to feel under his palm and know whether they’ll create friction when wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck me.”

“I’m kinda banking on it,” you say, biting your red-painted lip. “But first…”

His hand crawls around your waist, feeling the smooth, soft texture under his hand—swallowing, dragging his eyes up and down you, unsure how he could ever be so lucky—how something so good could ever be here for him to unwrap.

“I need you to hang the star,” you continue.

“Right now?”

Nodding, you ghost your lips over his. “I’ve been so good waiting for you.”

“You're never good. You, baby, are a menace.”

“I’m your menace.”

Snorting, he presses a kiss to your lips. “Damn right, you are.”

Moving from you, reluctantly, only to pick up the gold star he assumes you want to hang, getting a nod from you that he’s right.

“Need to ask you something too.”

And even though he’s only taken a mere short step from you, he’s floored all over again about what a picture you look like when he glances back. That you’re standing all for him, dressed in nothing but cheer and ribbons all for him.

“Go on.”

Turning to your tree, he flattens his hand to the wall for stability. “I wanted…”

His concentration slides in—suddenly aware he doesn’t want to knock anything from the branches. Doesn’t want to force things to be misplaced from where they were expertly hung.

He’s also sure he’s wanting to swallow the question. A part of him, all the way deep inside of him, having been bracing—and waiting—to hear you’d be apart for the holidays. A thing the two of you have rarely been since you moved here, not a day going by he hasn’t seen you for at least an hour.

“Wanted to know if you—shit—” the star almost sitting atop, before at the last minute protesting. “I wanted to know if you wanted to spend Christmas with me—with us, me and Pop. At the ranch.”

The star slides into place, sitting more comfortably with another shove, more branch supporting it.

But he doesn’t turn, not immediately. Not as the question hums around him, swirls in the silence of you not immediately saying yes. So much so, that it takes him a second to move on his heels, to face you—to read the answer before it’s delivered.

What he sees is something his heart couldn’t have ever prepared for.

You, grinning—a silly, almost goofy, smile spreading out as you bite down on your lip, forehead slightly crinkled.

“You… you want me to spend the holidays with you?”

“Of course—cariño, I want nothing more than for you to be with me.”

It all quick to leave his mouth, mirroring the movement to be back in front of you, fingers under your chin, lifting your eyes—those beautiful, fucking eyes—to his.

“Do… do you—wanna spend it with me?”

You pull a different face before you’re nodding. One more excited, one which begins to expel out over a smile and a bunch of escaping phrases such as I can’t believe you want me with you and of course.

“Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

Shrugging, you scrunch your nose—an act he finds just as cute as the first time he saw it. “Guess it’s a big deal. It’s… a thing people do with families.”

Pulling you close by your hips, your hand lands flat on his chest. “You are my family.”

“Javi,” you whisper, making each letter feel so individual the way you say it, that it makes his heart double.

“It’s true. You’re it for me, cariño. All I’ve wished for.”

Eyes widening, your eyes shimmer under the lights—more so than normal. Taking a deep breath, you lift your chin before pressing a kiss to his mouth. One which turns hungry, desperate—your mouth searing, a thing he’s craved since he woke up before the sun even rose.

“Baby,” you whisper.

And he hums.

It vibrates out, able to feel it from the way his fingers cup your cheek.

“Undo me.”

Releasing your lips with a pop, he opens his eyes, studying your eyes, moving from one to the other.

“Go on,” you urge in a whisper, more breathless, more tinged with something that makes his skin hot.

Sliding his fingers over the knot, he barely has to tug before it comes undone—unveiling you, like a curtain which wishes to part. If he’d thought you’d looked good before, he’s sure every bit of you is a sin now—a Christmas sin.

Red and lace. It’s all he sees. It sitting there, against you, hugging your breasts—sitting on your hips. His mouth is suddenly dry at the thought of running his tongue over the place it meets your skin before pulling it down.

Your fingers follow his eyes, sliding between the valley to land on the bow in the centre, twisting the edge of the tie around your index finger—palm skating over your stomach, allowing him more chance to take in how you’re stood before him in see-through fabric and promises.

“How’d I get so lucky?” he asks, more to no one, than to you.

His fingers teasing the fabric sat on your hip—marvelling, unsure how to think straight until you clear your throat, forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Hey,” you whisper, tightening your hold on his hands, bringing his arms more around your waist, pressing your front to him, feeling the heat from your skin through your clothes. “You’re all I wished for too.”

Smiling, he looks at your tree, before landing back on you. “You look so good.”

“I know. Could look better though?” His brow arches as you slowly begin to smile, the tip of your tongue sliding over your upper lip. “Everything is held in place by bows.”

Groaning, he closes his eyes, letting his hand slide down your lower back, over sheer material before his fingers find the ribbon on your hip.

“All for you.”

“Mine,” he answers, slotting his mouth over yours—staining the four letters to your lips.

His fingers slide around, brushing over soft skin, until he finds the first bow. Undoing it with ease, licking into your mouth, only to grunt against you when you whimper as the fabric falls to your feet.

“Yours,” you say back, your own hands beginning to undo him.

an: merry christmas, love you

#javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction

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igotlovestruck · 9 months ago

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not me! [ lando norris ]

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — dad!lando norris x mom!reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °. *

[ 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 ] — 782 words . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 📲 °. *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — fluff, comedy . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °. *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ another one from baby reveal 📸 and first written fic for 2024! 😆

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2024. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

“alright, milk’s in the fridge. burp him after giving him that, make sure to do it gently or he’ll vomit on you. i made food for you as well, so just reheat that in the microwave.” you instructed your boyfriend of 4 years as you fix your bag last minute. “i know you don’t need it, but this is the number of any emergency services. you have mum, max and dad’s number, right? call them if you can’t reach me.”

“yes, babe.”

“okay, good. now let’s talk diapers–”

lando stands up from his seat and walks behind you, planting a kiss on your shoulder before hugging you from behind. “i got this, baby. don’t worry.” he says, “me and luke will have fun today, nothing to worry about. i’m his dad and i know for sure i can handle taking care of our baby.”

you sighed, finally zipping your bag and titled your head so you could look at lando. “i know you can, but it’s just… it’ll be the first time i’m spending almost the whole day without luke. it feels weird.”

“only without luke?”

“lando, i have spent many days without you by my side. most of them because you travel around the world while i finished university back then, not to mention we were in a long distance last 2020.” you reminded him, it was crazy to think that 2020 was four years ago and back then, your relationship with lando was just starting. it was a challenge for the both of you, but having known each other since kids (all thanks to your brother), you managed to get through it. but today, lily offered to take you out on a little date while oscar was with his family. “okay, the baby wipes are in the room, there are also unopened ones in the luggage–”

“babe, i’ve got this. don’t worry about me and luke, just focus on your day with the lily.” lando reassured, picking up luke from his crib and started bouncing him. “right, lukey? mummy should enjoy her day with aunt lily, tell her that we’ll be fine. we’ll be fine, mummy! daddy will do a great job!”

you let out a laugh when lando tried to voice luke, you grab your stuff before walking towards your boys. you plant a kiss on luke’s forehead and on lando’s lips, “okay, i’ll go now. lily’s waiting for me at the lobby, you sure you can do this?”

“duh, easy peasy.” lando smiled confidently, “now go, have fun with lily. don’t forget to send me pictures of your adventure in melbourne!”

within seconds, you were out of the door and it was only lando and luke left behind. luke looked at his dad, sucking on his pacifier as if waiting for lando to say something. “okay, little man… mummy’s gonna kill me if i don’t give you your milk on time so let’s just put you on your little jolly jumper here while daddy prepares your milk.”

luke stares at his dad while he puts him on his jolly jumper. when he was settled in he started bouncing and making little happy noises while lando walked to the fridge. lando smiles at his son, luke was almost 7 months old and his dad still couldn’t believe it. a little baby that’s half his, half yours, made with love and born in a loving household.

lando settled luke on his back, making sure that he was protected enough not to roll and fall from the bed. he fed luke, smiling as his baby kicks his little feet and his little hand hold the baby bottle. luke had almost half of the bottle when he lets go of it, meaning that he was done with it. lando held him up and burped him, smiling when he heard the little man’s noise. lando held luke for a while, showing him the view of their hotel and pointing out things that luke would find amazing.

“okay little man, it’s time for tummy time!” lando cheered, gently putting luke on his stomach while letting him play with the teething toy you brought. lando was grabbing the tv remote om the other side of the room, when he came back, he saw luke’s tiny middle finger standing and the others folded. “lukey! oh i gotta take a photo of this.”

lando was laughing as he took the photo, immediately uploading it on instagram for a good laugh. a few minutes later, he sees your name appearing on his phone screen. “hey baby! how’s melbourne with lily?”

“LANDO, IT’S ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE I LEFT AND YOU ALREADY TAUGHT HIM BAD STUFF!”

“NOT ME!”

ynfewtrell and landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and others

ynfewtrell well, guess i know where luke learned it from 🙃

view more comments

landonorris not me! i didn’t teach him that

ynfewtrell not me my ass

maxfewtrell 😆

landonorris we really are banning you for life max

maxfewtrell you can’t ban me for life yk

oscarpiastri which one is lando

ynfewtrell tbh, i don’t know which one... 🤔

user both are little lando norrises

user not y/n using the 🙃 emoji 😭 yk she’s pissed

user someone’s sleeping on the couch tonight landonorris

landonorris as if i’m sleeping on the couch, i just got a podium in ‘straya 😎

ynfewtrell yeah? you’re not sleeping on the couch tonight

ynfewtrell because i’m locking you out of the hotel room

landonorris not funny 😔

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris oneshot #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris insta au #f1 imagine #f1 fan fic #f1 one shot #f1 instagram edit #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader

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caustinen · 6 months ago

Note

Omg I’m actually so in love with your Hollywood au 😭😭 do you have any headcanons for them? Like how they started dating, or what they do on a daily basis, general domestic things!!

Hi!! Sorry I took so long to reply but your ask sent me SPIRALLING — this whole au was such a random quick thing and I never expected it to go anywhere, but thinking of a response to this I got so into it I might actually manage to write something!

Just the first meeting hc got so ridiculously long that I’ll respond to the domestic hc’s (I HAVE SO MANY) on a separate post and tag you! Thank you for the inspiration luv 💘

HOLLYWOOD AU! First meeting:

Their first impressions are not very good… John hasn’t made it big yet but he’s definitely getting some attention so he decides to relocate to Hollywood and find a good PR-team around himself despite having always thought that the marketing/branding side of his profession is capitalistic nonsense — and while he has changed his attitude to the exctent of ”if you can’t beat them join them”, he’d still expect all the suits to be cold business men who don’t care about the art of it all.

Gale on the other hand expects all actor clients to be self-obsessed nepo pricks; he’s been climbing in the industry steadily for years and enjoys the challenge of bringing the best versions of people out and finding them their best options (he takes pride in being very good at what he does) but since initially he ended up in the industry through his love for film, he’s also often annoyed by the up-and-coming stars who only care for the fame.

Loud, relaxed and seemingly no-care-in-the-world John fits this prejudice perfectly, as does John’s expectation for an uptight, borderline rude PR-executive in a suit — at the end of the meeting he chooses a much more laid-back seeming guy called Brady to represent him, and Gale is relieved he’s not stuck with him, he really is, despite the teasing, annoying smile of that bastard refusing to leave his mind for the rest of the day.

Their second meeting is somehow WORSE, in a week or so a meeting runs long so Brady invites John to after-work drinks. Gale looks so different out of his suit (now in a white t-shirt and black pants that hug his waist tightly, hair mussled and curlier after a long day of running his hands through it) that Bucky is absolutely blinded for a second and goes to introduce himself flirtily. Gale stares at him for a bit before informing him they met last week and while John is able to laugh it off with the others, this doesn’t exactly help with Gale’s image of him (why can’t i get that smirk off my mind when he couldn’t even bother to note me??)

It doesn’t help that Bucky gets very drunk and keeps seeking his company, not caring he’s only receiving grunts as reply to his stories told draped over the blonde’s shoulders as Gale sips on his non-alcoholic beer (he also shares the Buck story and starts calling him Buck like in the show), and whatever progress John might’ve done to make him almost smile a couple of times is undone immediately as he flirts with everyone else just as much when he leaves Gale’s side, cementing him in Gale’s mind as a playboy who’s gotten a bit too into his own head with his modest success lately and decides to forget all about him.

After that they run each other a couple of times at the office and social gatherings, and things are civil enough, they chat briefly each time but there’s some strange tension between them that makes Gale uneasy and John confused and a bit frustrated because he usually gets along with everyone but this man just seems to be immune to his usual charm; he can’t understand why the man is seems so cold and barely ever speaks up, that sweet smile he rarely sees him show others is completely wasted on him in his opinion.

They only properly meet again at a premier of John’s new movie a couple of months down the road, the first one under Gale’s firm, and end up in the backroom between the red carpet and John walking into the theater post-film (Brady is busy with organizing everything) and it’s TENSE, they’ve never been in a room by just the two of them and John is obviously nervous wreck which makes him antsy and Gale isn’t making any effort to make small-talk to ease his nerves (he’s not a natural at that okay, and esp with John he doesn’t know what to say)

Only when John is basically doubled over on the couch groaning into his hands as the film approaches its end Gale is forced to interfere. ”Why are you so upset?” ”They’re gonna hate it.” Gale is thrown off, never expecting to see this vulerable side underneath all that loud confidence. ”They’re not gonna hate it.” John scoffs. ”And how would you know?” Gale frowns, annoyed. ”Listen, it’s not Casablanca but you had to know that walking into the project, and you give it enough life to keep the tension up ’till the end. This is your best work since Thorpe Abbotts so just sit back and relax.”

John stares at him, mouth open, despair forgotten for a while. ”You know my work?” he asks, blindsighted, and Gale blushes and turns away. ”Maybe. I go to most films they show in my local theatre so don’t make too much of it.” John doesn’t have time to digest the words properly before he’s ushered to take the applause of the crowd, but it stays with him.

Things shift after that. John starts to pay attention to what Gale says, and realizes while he might speak rarely, when he does it’s always meaningful and thought-out. When Brady wants to make him do some new audition tapes he asks him to bring some of his collegues for second opinions, and he’s satisfied to see Gale roll up to the little studio they’ve rented one afternoon.

Wanting to impress Gale apparently works wonders because he feels like he reaches a new level with scene they’re working with, and the feedback reflects this. Even Gale gives him an approving nod, which somehow sends butterflies down his insides.

He turns his show-off when they go for drinks as a group next time to actually have a conversation with the blonde, and it turns out Gale is OBSESSED with old hollywood — whenever things were bad in his childhood home (often) he’d hide himself into the world of fiction of all kinds, and he’s seen an obscene number of films and loves learning trivia about it too, film star biographies are his favorite genre of books. He used to go to his little local movie theatre so much he was eventually offered a job there and could help with picking the movies, but his brief dreams of being an actor were never realized as he knew he needed a less pecarious job to give himself the stability his childhood home didn’t offer.

Learning these pieces of information draws John even more facinated with him, and Gale seems to be laughing at more and more of his jokes too. Once Gale lets his guard down he has also started to see John underneath the bravado, and makes mental notes to check out the books he recommends and he might even lightly flirt back these days, secretly enjoying the those dark, observant eyes fixed on him and squeezing into a surprised smile.

All in all, it’s been going better for a while until a faithful day, when they’re doing another auditiong tape. Bucky’s been rejected from a film he really wanted earlier that day, and his previous film has gotten some lukrwarm reviews upon getting into streaming services, so he’s in a shitty mood, and the unimpressed faces Gale keeps making annoy him to no end.

They call it a day and they agree to meet at a bar closeby to start the weekend and get everyone’s spirits up. The beer only serves to make Bucky more upset tho, espescially when he sees Gale hitting it up with someone who walks up to him, laughing at his stuff and looking relaxed in a way he never quite does with him. A bit drunk and a lot angry he follows him to the bathroom, Gale noticing him as he walks in with the same swing of the door. He turns around and greets him, the smile from talking to that whatever dude still lingering on his lips being John’s final straw.

”Oh, so you can be happy? Thought it was fucking impossible to achieve.” Gale’s smile immediately drops and his posture shifts, arms crossing over his chest. ”What are you talking about?” ”You’re always making those faces no matter what I do. You’ll ruin your pretty face with all that frowning.” ”What on earth are you-” ”When I try to talk with you. Or when I do a scene and you’re supposed to help but you just keep looking at me like I’m an idiot. I don’r get it.”

Gale starts to get upset too now, something John has never seen before, his calmness finally breaking. ”What do you want me to say?!” ”I don’t know, be fucking supportive for once?!” ”I am being supportive by being honest! Do you think that was the best you can do?” It surprises John, but he’s already too worked up to back down. ”Well what if it is?” They’ve gotten closer to each other in the empty men’s room, and Gale’s hands are no longer crossed, he’s pointing at John’s chest and staring him down. ”You have so much goddman potential, John Egan, and it’s killing me to see you waste it like that. Reach for something bigger. Get more complex charachters, more nunaced scripts. If it takes you hating me to hear that then so be it.” John scoffs despite the blush trying to creep to his cheeks. ”Well since you know fucking everything maybe you should help me find those roles.” ”I’m not your agent, or your publicist, or your mom, or your boyfriend, I don’t see how it’s any of my-” They’re practically yelling at each other, and without thinking John takes the wrist of Gale’s hand poking his chest to his and pushes it down so they’re chest to chest, noses almost touching, so close they’ve gotten. ”Maybe you could just help me out if you didn’t hate me so much.” John isn’t yelling anymore, and all of Gale’s nerves are on fire, he can feel John’s breath on his cheeks, his own pulse pounding in his chest. ”I don’t hate-” And that’s as far as he gets before John crashes their lips together, the small movement inevidable as the sun coming up each morning.

Gale makes a muffled sound into the kiss and goes to grab his shirt, pulling him closer as John reaches to cup the back of his head. The kiss is just as messy and teethy and perfect as the months of growing tension between them has promised. Gale wants to climb him and bite him and drag him down the floor, his own desire punching air out of him as John stumbles until his back hits the wall, his big hand protecting his head from the hard impact. They are lost in it until their lips are swollen and bruised and they’re both more than half-hard after being pressed so tightly together, and Gale bites his abused lips to silence a moan trying to escape him as John dips down to suck and lick on his sweaty neck, his own hand tangling in his curls and pulling and feeling victorious as John makes a choked sound. He pulls until their eyes meet again, and he’s sure his own pupils are as big as John’s as they stare at each other for a moment, both of them trying to catch their breath like they just ran a marathon. ”You drive me fucking insane,” Gale grits at him, and John laughs a short sound. ”I drive you insane?! You’re the one prancing around… Being all, you know, intelligent and sexy with your James Dean features and Paul Newman eyes.” Gale stares at him for a little bit, mouth open, before pulling him into another kiss.

They go back to Gale’s eventually (Gale comes back to himself enough to realize he does not want to be caught with all his collegues on the other side of the bathroom wall) and they make out for a while more, little less heated but just as passionate, but when it’s getting more intense again John has a moment of clarity and pulls away. He’s drunk and tired and overwhelmed and he doesn’t want this to be just a hook-up. Gale understands but asks John to stay the night anyway and he ends up sleeping on his coach that night. It’s a bit awkward in the morning because neither of them really knows what to say and John’s just about to leave, thinking this was a mistake after all, when Gale suggest they’d watch a movie, and the nervous hope in his face grips John’s heart enough to realize there’s no walking away from what he’s started to feel for this man. They watch a film, and another, and by the third the funny commentary both of them make has shifted into the movie playing in the background as they make out, Gale in John’s lap, and it feels right.

John ends up staying the whole weekend, they just watch films and make dinner together and get to know each other. John is scared he’ll overstay his welcome but Gale makes it feel natural, and the exciting newness of it all is addicting, and perhaps exactly because they’ve had to overcome so many of their own prejudices about the other everything feels more vibrant and exciting. Seeing Gale relaxed and smiely and silly and nervous as he rolls his eyes at him when he sings along to the radio as they cook makes his heart miss a beat. He’s completely prepared to not go further than kissing for now but after a delicious, footsie heavy dinner on Sunday evening at Gale’s kitchen they finally end up in bed, and it feels just right that their first time together is slow and searching and absolutely perfect, and they get the final confirmation that their chemistry seems to be working out pretty fucking well.

After that weekend, John never accepts a role without running it by Gale first (they often read them together naked in bed on the weekends, making each other giggle while dramatically imaging the scenes while leaning into each other amongst the fluffy pillows), and within a year he’s a rising star and his name is on everyone’s lips, but he’s only got one pair of lips in mind.

It isn’t just smooth sailing after that either, navigating a relationship and his career and the publicy, but as slow as their love might have started it’s all the more steady for it, and it never stops growing.

SORRY THIS GOT SO INTENSE!!! Literally all of this came to me as I thought how to respond to your ask so thank you for being a major motivation 🖤

#buck x bucky #clegan #mota #masters of the air #gale cleven #john egan #writing #buck #bucky #hollywood au

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tkaulitzlvr · 1 year ago

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THE WRONG WAY - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom hasn’t been paying you enough attention lately, and, when you finally snap, he can’t understand where you are coming from, until you reach your breaking point. can the issues between you and him be resolved?

content: angst

a/n: pulled this out of my ass lol, i had to rush it because i’m in the middle of another req but it’s nowhere near done after like three hours of writing so i’ll have to finish and post it tomorrow. sorry if there are mistakes, i only proofread veryyy briefly cause i’m so tired rn😭 hope this is okay tho!!

"you don't love me."

i voice the harsh words to the silent room, clearly and with every sense of belief behind my statement. to my discomfort, saying it out loud does not make me feel any more at ease, in fact seeing the way tom’s entire body breaks for a second, processing what i had just said, before trying to cover the hurt on his face up, only suffocates me even more. the lump in my throat only gets bigger, the tension in the air thickening by the second.

"wow." he begins, shaking his head, trying to wrap his head around how i could even come to that conclusion. "that’s an awful accusation." he glances at me, his eyes already glossy, giving me enough of an idea on how much i have hurt him by uttering those four words. however i stick to it, figuring that it is too late to back out now. within me, behind all the anger, all the upset, i feel that it is true. i sense that he no longer feels the same way he did when he met me, all those years ago, the love within his eyes slowly diminishing until it is now long gone.

"and also." he speaks, leaning forward and looking directly into my eyes, staying in his position spread on the end of the other couch. "it's not true. you know it isn't."

the pressure of his gaze leaves me unable to hold eye contact with him, looking away sheepishly into my lap, hoping that somehow the ground could swallow me up. i grit my teeth, locking my jaw in anger, feeling no reassurance from his quick denial of my statement. so i decide to challenge him, standing my ground despite the nausea only growing within me. though his voice seems somewhat certain, i refuse to believe that i am making it up, that it is all in my head. "do i though tom?"

my eyes meet his, except the ones looking into me are foreign. they are angry, a glint of hostility present within them that i had not yet witnessed, this change taking me aback, yet i refuse to look away. he is sad. those eyes, past the resentment in them, i see pain. i see sorrow. i have upset him, far beyond what he intends to let out. he is usually strong, and perhaps right now he thinks that he is keeping this up, yet i can read him like a book, the way his left brow furrows, creating a crease along his forehead, the way his eyes cannot focus on one thing, darting around the room, i can see that he is struggling. and whilst part of me hurts with him, hating to put him through any sort of distress, i need it right now. because i am tired of feeling unloved and unappreciated - regardless of whether tom intends to make me feel this way or not.

he shakes his head, scoffing slightly in disbelief, letting out a shaky sigh, before speaking up, his voice loud, in contrast to the silent room. "what, so i've been lying every single time i’ve told you that i love you, over the past six years that we've been together? mind you, i say that every day, without fail."

i stay silent, my eyes becoming glossy as they quickly tear away from his. he takes my silence as a cue to continue, my sudden belief that he does not love me angering him as he desperately seeks to remind me of every reason why i am in the wrong. "don't i do everything for you? make sure that you're always safe, give you my everything-"

"give me your money, you mean." i reply, cutting him off. i don’t want to seem ungrateful - i appreciate the way tom would spend any amount of money on me if it made me happy. i am thankful for the house he has given me, the vacations he takes me on, the things he buys me, but those things are not the reasons why i fell in love with him. i fell for tom kaulitz. not his money, not his fame, not his profession. i fell for who he is, for him as a person, whether he is rich or poor, yet it feels that day by day i lose a small part of that. i have always understood that his job means that he will be away a lot, but it is hard to be in a relationship with someone that can't always be there, only their fortunes can.

"i’m grateful for what you do for me, really i am, but i'd much rather have time with you than the latest gucci bag, or the newest chanel perfume. if it meant that i would have to live with nothing for the rest of my life, i would do it. don't you understand? i want you - not your money tom! i don't need you to apologise with gifts when i don’t see you all day, i just...i need you." i am desperate, craving for him to hear me out, to understand that it is him that i need, but the way he looks at me in confusion shows me that i am not going to achieve that.

"i thought you liked the things i buy for you. have you been lying?" he completely ignores the point that i have been trying to make, this only fuelling the frustration within me as i exhale shakily, quickly grasping onto the opportunity to argue my point once again.

"i do but that's not the point tom! i like them because i feel like it's all i get from you!" my voice is raising, something which i did not want to happen. shouting never solves the problem, however right now i am far too angry to care. "i just want some of your time, to feel like you actually care! when you're with me, you're here physically, but your mind is always elsewhere. i just miss you. i need to you be mine again, i-"

"look, i’m sorry okay?" he begins, harshly cutting me off and matching the volume in my voice. "i'm sorry that my job is more demanding than others, i’m sorry that it needs a lot of my attention, but i told you this from the beginning. my career is a big part of who i am and things aren't always easy. they get hard, they get tough, but-"

"that's my problem! when things get hard for you, i don't fucking know about it! because you shut me out, every. single. time. i'm your girlfriend, tom. i want to know about your life, i want to help you, but you always run away from me! you spoil me with gifts and money to compensate for every fucking time you leave me in the dark! i don't want it anymore. i just want you to communicate!" i move from the couch, walking to the middle of the room and standing a few feet away from him. his eyes are glued to me, watching my every step, and he is listening to me this time. "am i such a headache to be around, that you can't talk to me? that you can't deal with spending time with me, so instead you spend your money to try and shut me up, because you have so much that no matter what you buy, it doesn't affect you?"

"don't." he voices shakily as i stare into his eyes, his expression more wounded than ever. my words stab into him, hitting him harder than i had anticipated. his fists clench against his thighs, holding every ounce of frustration. though we have argued in the past, i have never seen him this upset, regardless of whether he intends to show it visibly or not. "you know that i don't think of you that way, even for a second. so stop."

"you can't blame me for thinking it tom." i shrug. "you leave me out of everything, i have no idea what's going on in your life anymore-"

“because i'm trying to fucking protect you!" he interrupts, raising his voice once again. his hand slams against the arm of the couch, the sudden contact causing me to wince slightly. "i'm sorry if you feel like i'm hiding things from you. but i know parts of my life would just stress you out and hurt you. don't you get that? i'm trying to save you from the pain-"

"i want the fucking pain!" i fire back. "we are supposed to be in a relationship. do you know what that means? i want to suffer with you. i would choose that, a million times over, if it meant that i could be with you for another day. i want every part of you, the sad, the happy, the angry, i want it all. can't you see that i need you? i hate being left in the dark. i absolutely fucking hate it.”

my voice pierces through his ears, diminishing the tense silence as tom gulps, clenching his jaw and leaning forwards, pinching his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. the rash and quick responses don’t allow me time to calm down, my eyes becoming glossy with tears, the salty liquid staining my cheeks before i can try to hold them back, my weakness just as evident as tom’s. the pain, the upset, the lack of affection that have been feeling all spills out, reeling outwards from within me as i let it out, no longer attempting to hold back.

he looks up, his face softening as he takes in my hurt expression. he has never seen me like this, so broken, and the fact that he is the cause of this pains him even more, his mind coming to the slow realisation that it is up to him to fix this. although he doesn’t fully understand how i could possibly believe that he does not love me, he wants to try, to try and see from my eyes. he lets out a shaky sigh, swallowing nervously before looking into my eyes.

"i would rather feel the sadness, suffer with you." i begin, my voice small as the tears quickly take away my physical strength. "i would do absolutely anything if it means that you will love me, that you will do it with me, tom."

"i don't live a normal life, and i just want to keep you away from the crazy things." he speaks slowly, trying to reason with me, refusing to turn his gaze away from mine. "some people want to hurt me, and i would never forgive myself if someone ever did anything to harm you."

i try to wipe my tears and calm my breathing, wrapping my arms around my small frame in an attempt to comfort myself, quickly becoming overwhelmed with the situation. but my mind acknowledges tom’s change in tone. not only is he more gentle and calm, he also seems sorry, like he now recognises where he went wrong.

"what do you want me to do?" he whispers, defeated as his tired eyes meet mine. he is no longer angry. he is desperate, longing to resolve this. "i'll do anything. i- i can't lose you. you're my world, schatz, and i'm sorry if i haven't shown it, but you are everything to me."

though there are millions of things i could say, i stay silent, standing still across the room. my heart clenches painfully, hurting at the sight of him so distraught, as his mind considers the dreaded idea of what losing me would be like. his world is crumbling before him, the one thing he seeks to protect seeming to slip through his fingers. i have never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so desperate, and whilst it comforts me to know that he is slowly letting down the walls that have prevented me from truly being with him, it saddens me to see him in such a distraught state.

"all i've ever wanted is to keep you safe. to keep you happy, liebe, because if you're happy then so am i. but you deserve more than this." he points to himself angrily, letting out a shaky sigh. "more than this fucking idiot, who doesn't even know how to love. i’m so sorry if i've done it the wrong way and made you feel like i don't care. because you shouldn't for a second think that i don't love you."

everything that i have been craving to see is happening in front of me. i have longed to see him open up, to break down the barriers that separate us both physically and mentally. i don’t want him to be strong all the time, and it hurts that he feels he has to be. the tears fall from my bloodshot eyes once again - this time out of sadness for him. i hurt with him, hating to see him so upset, but i understand his pain, his anger, and i feel every emotion along with him. for the first time in forever, i feel connected with him.

after a few moments of silence, he stands up, slowly walking towards me. i refuse to meet his gaze, fearing that i will break down once again i realise how hurt he truly is, and looking into his eyes will certainly display every emotion amongst his beautiful features. his hand brushes tenderly against my cheek, wiping a fresh tear that had fallen. he reaches towards my chin, using his pointer finger to angle my face upwards so it meets with his eyes. he towers over me, taking in the sorrow etched upon my face, before tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ears, gently caressing my cheek with his lips slightly parted, shaky breaths escaping from them.

"please, look at me." he whispers, gazing longingly into my eyes. i comply, shifting my own eyes to the deep brown ones in front of me. they are full of adoration, and i feel the man that i fell in love with slowly coming back to me. "i love you, so so much, please believe me schatz. you are the most important person in my life, and i am so sorry that i've made you feel the opposite way." he chokes up, his voice shaky as i can tell he is on the verge of tears.

i listen to him, allowing every word to sink in, as it is now no longer hard to trust what he says. i feel what i have been desperate to - love. i feel truly appreciated, like i am able to confide in him like i once could. though frustrated it took the both of us to get to this state to make him speak his mind, i appreciate him opening up, his apology making up for the lost time. there is no shame in being fragile, and through his entire conversation, we have both learned this, a new found appreciation for each other gained as i feel safe again.

"don't feel like you have to keep things to yourself. i’m your girlfriend, i'm supposed to be here for you, and i'll gladly do it, but you have to talk to me." i respond, lacing my hand with his. a soft smile spreads across his face, contrasting with his bloodshot eyes whilst he slowly nods.

"i hear you. i’m so sorry baby. i love you." he whispers, pulling me into a tight hug as his hands lace together around my waist. he lets out a sob onto my shoulder, my heart breaking at the sound. he clutches onto me tighter as if i may slip away, my own eyes tearing up once again. it has been a while since i felt like this. i feel loved, and it is all that i have ever wanted from the start.

he slowly pulls away, resting his forehead against mine and looking into my eyes through his eyelashes. after a few seconds, he leans inwards, until his lips touch mine. the kiss is gentle, carrying every promise to love and cherish me like he has failed to do, and i gladly accept it, kissing back quickly and wrapping my arms around his neck. he pulls away, planting a few pecks on my lips once again, his breath shaky as the remnants of tears stick to his cheeks. i slowly wipe them away, not breaking eye contact as i do so, gently caressing the soft skin until any trace of sadness is lost within our newfound love for each other.

a soft smile graces his lips, failing to wither as he kisses me once again, the same amount of passion as the last, making up for the lost affection as i feel more treasured than ever. this is all I have ever wanted, to feel like he cares, and now that i am feeling his affection, my mind is oozing with contentment, the feeling almost foreign it has been so long.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #kaulitz twins #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz angst #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz

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messier-47 · 6 months ago

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My Unkept Man

As a birthday gift to both myself and you guys, I took on the challenge of writing a little bit of a brand new WIP that's been in my head for months.

Synopsis? Uchiha Izuna is dead, Konoha is/has been buit up and Madara is still in the deep throws of depression. Hashirama, who'd lost all of his brothers years ago decides to gift Madara with something to help take his mind off his grief, a cat. This story was gonna be one of those "Super depressed MC gets a pet and has to make a new resolve to get better for his cat."

Then my brain went, "What if this story was in the POV of the cat?"

When next I see the Silly Man I shall kill him.

Yes, that is what I’ll do, for he has locked me in here without a way to get out and it is too small a place for me. Let me out!

“Shuuu-shuuu-shuuush,” the Silly Man says out of his stupid mouth, “Please don’t be so loud, I’ll let you out soon.”

He is stupid. Has forgotten that he had stuffed me into this crate but I have not forgotten, so I shall remind him often. Let me out this insufferable box!

The Silly Man continues to gibber, but is easily distracted by something else - a doorway has opened!

“What is it, Hashirama?” ‘tis another Man.

“Madara!” exclaims the Silly Man, “I have a gift for you, my friend!”

“Gift?” is questioned, “For what?”

Ignored. “Do you remember when you told me that you wanted a cat?”

“I didn’t say that. I distinctly remember saying that I didn’t want a dog or cat.”

“But that Uchiha have cats.”

“Yeah, as summons. What have you done, Hashirama?”

“I got you a cat!” The box was opened and a great light blinded me! In the seconds of weakness, the Silly Man took ahold of my ribs and lifted my into the air! “Look! Ain’t he cute?”

Let go of me! I used my back paws to kick and claw at the Man paws around my chest but the Silly Man catches and clutches me closer to his chest and face. I have little room to move and be free, and I let him know my ire.

“He looks feral,” the Men say among themselves, too stupid to understand any sophisticated speech. “And is that…a domesticated house cat? Not even a neko nin!”

“And he’s yours,” said the Silly Man, “I thought he’d be good for you.”

I bat at the Silly Man’s face, my sharp claws extended; release me!

He dodges my powerful strikes but I catch some of his overlong fur within my grasp. Ugh! Now it’s stuck to me!

“Ah, yes,” gibbered the other Man, “He seems so nice.”

“He’s not always like this,” said the Silly Man. He’s talking about me. I always know when Man talks about me in my presence. Let me down! “He’s just upset that I put him in a crate for so long. Back in you go.”

No! Unhand me you fool!

“Ah!” the Silly Man cries out in defeat as I successfully escape his grasp. There is a long curtain by the window, I climb it to freedom! A tall shelf becomes my respite, Man may be bigger than I but not as tall as I now. They’ll never get me from here!

“Dang it!” says the Silly Man, “You never behave!”

“I don’t know, Hashirama,” says the other Man, twisting his arms over his chest, “Seems to me he’s got the right idea.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” the Silly Man whimpered, “I think you’ll grow to like him if given the chance. And he could help you!”

“Help me?”

The two blathered whilst I sat well above their heads, out of reach and in a superior position for any counter attack. Should the Silly Man reach for me with his soft, fleshy paws and naked arms, I shall shred him to pieces.

“It’s been little over half a year, my friend,” said the Silly Man, voice having lost its vigor, “I worry about you.”

“Didn’t know you were keeping track,” said the other Man, “and it’s been eight months, if you even cared enough to know.”

“Madara!”

The Silly Man sometimes wasn’t so silly.

The Silly Man is strong. He was dangerous. Foolish, to be sure, especially when in comparison to my greatness, but the Silly Man wasn’t someone to forget he had his own set of sheathed claws.

“I care,” he said.

It was an ambush! Vines of great strength caught and tangled me up as a spider does prey. I protest this loudly, for I am no prey!

“It’s been eight months and you’re still grieving,” said the Stupid Man as he would not release me! The vines carried me down from my vantage point. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself and…I thought that having a pet might cheer your spirits up.”

I am brought into the arms of the Stupid Man. I intend to eat his liver.

“You brought a feral cat to cheer me up?” the other Man questioned.

“He’s not feral,” said the Stupid Man with an absent wave of his hand, “He’s been in the family for years now, King of the Senju Compound. He’s just…spicy!”

“And you think I’ll grow to like him?”

“You’re both surprisingly similar,” said the Silly Man before dumping my entrapped body into the hands of the other Man. “I thought you’d either get along like a house on fire or the house would definitely be on fire.”

I looked at the other Man and disapproved of him. He was just so…unkept! The fur on his head was too long to manage with a tongue, puffed up fluffy but his face was the typical Man face kept naked.

I bat at his face.

He does not dodge my sharp claws, his instincts dull and weak. My claws do not scratch him as I am too close for a proper graze, but my paw pushes him away by the fatness of his cheek.

He grumbles, “Does this thing have a name or can I call him Little Bastard or Shiro-Oni?”

“Don’t be mean,” the Silly Man scolds. I do not listen to him because I refuse. “His name is Tobirama.”

“Tobi-? What a pretentious first name!”

“Better than calling him ‘Little Bastard’. Come on, at least try. I know you’ll come to like him!”

The Unkept Man looks me in the eye and I look back.

He is so very ugly and I tell him so.

“Yeah?” says the Unkept man, “Well I don’t like you either.”

His blood shall wet my claws.

“Ah! You little-!”

“No Madara! Not the desk again!”

The indignity that one such as I must endure! With fang and claw, I shall reap all their suffering henceforth!

#my content #naruto #tobirama #madara #madatobi #fanfic i only hope to write one day

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago

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DRABBLE: HE GETS HORNY FROM YOUR COSTUME 🎃 (18+) (ONE PIECE) (For Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: Happy almost Halloween, y'all! I wanted to post some drabbles for spooky season this year just cuz I'm working & it's been hard to write my fics. BUT I'm gonna try to post at least one oneshot for Halloween & I'll be posting a JJK drabble too. Enjoy! -Jazz ❤️❤️

**********

LUFFY (YOU COSPLAY AS HIM)

“Y/N, come oooooon!” he whined from his bed. “If we’re late, we’re gonna miss out on all of the candy the villagers are givin’ out!”

You rolled your eyes standing in your shared washroom connected to your shared bed chambers. You had your own bedroom located in the girls’ cabins, but Luffy insisted on moving you into his bedroom so he could be closer to you. “Alright, alright, hang on,” you sighed, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. “Lemme just add this and…done!”

You smiled at your costume for tonight before turning to the bathroom door where you could hear Luffy whining and groaning about Zero beating him for the candy. “Alright, you big baby,” you giggled. “You ready to see my costume for tonight?”

“Oooh, wait, wait!” Luffy excitedly protested, seeming to forget about the candy already. “Lemme guess first. Hmm…you’re a ghost!”

“No,” you giggled.

“A vampire?”

“No.”

“Ooh, ooh, I know! You’re one of those bunnies I see around this time of year with the ears and those fishnet stocking things!”

“Not even close, babe,” you laughed. “I’ll give you a hint: it has to do with water.” You could practically hear the gears in Luffy’s head turning. You stayed away from the door, hidden behind it. “You’re a mermaid,” he guessed. “No…a fish? No, no, a pirate!”

“Close!” you replied, and opened the door to the bathroom where you jumped out into the bedroom where Luffy said. “I’m the best pirate and captain in the world!” you giddily said. “Ta-da! I’m you!”

Luffy’s wide grin fell when he got a look at you and your cosplay of him. You had on the cut-off shorts, slides, and even an exact replica of his straw hat. You adorned an open, red vest that made your skin pop and applied a bandeau bra that matched your skin tone and kept your breasts secure. You even got the X scar on his chest down to the T, applying enough purple and red makeup to make it appear as real as possible. You wanted to really gag him with this costume.

And you did, though his awestruck expression made you nervous. “Do you…like it?” you carefully asked.

Luffy ticked his eyes up to yours and instantly, his mouth split into a humongous grin that brightened the room. “Like it?!” he practically screamed. “Y/N, I love it! I mean, look at you! You’re me!” He began to laugh his hysterical, contagious laugh, a hand on his belly. “You look so, so good! You’ve even got the hat!”

You melted at his reaction, glad he loved it and glad to have gotten the reaction you were fishing for. “I figured I could do something different,” you said. You smirked playfully at him, placing your hands on your hips. “Guess that means I’m the captain now.”

Luffy’s laughter immediately stopped, a fire flashing behind his eyes that excited you. “What’s wrong?” you giggled. “Don’t like that idea?” Slowly, he shook his head, not even speaking. The excitement inside of you continued to grow, making your stomach flip. “So what are you gonna do about it?” you challenged. “You wanna fight about it?”

Yes, Luffy did want to fight about it, but not at all in the way you were thinking. His way of “fighting” meant having you on your knees with your ass hiked in the air and your straw hat nearly falling off of your head as your boyfriend snapped his hips behind you again and again, plunging his cock deeper inside of your sobbing, wet pussy with every single second that passed.

“What’s my name?” he asked. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

His hand looped around to grab your chin, folding it firmly. You could hardly form a coherent sentence with how hard his hips were thrusting into you, giving you blinding pleasure over and over again. “God, Luffy!” you shouted.

Luffy wasn’t pleased with that. “Uh-uh, baby,” he grunted. “Wrong answer.”

He shifted his hips to hit your G-spot, emitting sounds from you that came from the deepest parts of your chest as you were plunged into otherworldly pleasure.

“Captain!” you whined, finally catching onto his game. “Fuck, captain, you make this pussy feel so good!”

Luffy grinned and let you dig your face into the mattress again as he pounded your pussy from behind. “That’s right,” he chuckled. “I’m the captain. I’m your captain, the one and only.”

ZORO (MORTAL KOMBAT COSPLAY)

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked, looking absolutely befuddled.

He sat in his private training room on a bench while you stood in front of him, your hands on your hips and an excited smile on your face. You stood in your Mortal Kombat cosplay which consisted of a very skin-tight outfit with little to be hidden––a stretchy bodysuit that you paired with fishnet stockings and high-knee boots that you felt like you could kick someone with.

“It’s my Halloween costume,” you giggled. “You like it? I thought the bodysuit was a little see-through, but…”

You turned around, picking with your bodysuit which kept bunching up in your ass. Though the wedgies pissed you off, your ass did look amazing in the costume. You felt like the sexiest ninja alive. When you turned back to Zoro, you noticed how red his face was and the weird look in his eyes. “What?” you asked. “You don’t like it?”

He shook his head and turned away, busying himself with cleaning his weights. “I didn’t say that,” he grumbled.

You smirked at him and leaned against the bench he sat on. “So you do like it?” you chuckled. “You like seein’ me in this, hm?” You took a seat next to him, crossing your fishnet-clad legs over one another. Zoro barely took one glance at you, though it was more for his sake than yours. If he were to take another look at you, there would be nothing stopping him from bending you over this bench and fucking you right out of this costume.

“I didn’t say that either,” he grunted. “I’m just thinkin’ about how cold you’ll be. That outfit is only coverin’ so much of you.” He got up from his spot, holding a dumbbell in his hand that he went to place on the rack with the others.

“Uh-uh,” you replied, not buying his nonchalant attitude one bit. “So should I change?” He didn’t respond or look at you, which made you smile from ear to smile. You knew you were getting to him. Zoro was never a man to voice his arousal or flustered feelings too often, but his body language spoke volumes. “Here, maybe this will change your mind about it,” you giggled.

Out of your belt, you pulled out a fake sword that glinted in the light. “Look-it! And no, it’s not real.” Zoro turned to you and his eyes widened an inch at the sight of the sword in your hand. He walked towards it with heavy footfalls from his boots and examined the sword. “It damn well looks it,” he commented, in awe at how real the fake sword looked. “Just don’t pull this out at the party. You might make the wrong impression.”

“Guess I’ll have to leave it here then,” you sighed, placing it on your lap. You looked up at Zoro who was still staring down at the sword. You could almost feel the temptation radiating off of him. “You can touch it, you know,” you purred. “But only if I can touch yours.” His emerald eyes met yours, noticing your change in tone and the shift in the air.

You took his hand in yours and placed it on the sword, causing him to glide a finger over hilt. You then stood up and pressed your lips against the thick column of his neck, smiling at his hitched breath. You then pressed your tits against his big arm, giving him a feel of what he’d be missing if he didn’t admit how much he loved this outfit. “Pull it out for me,” you whispered against his ear. “We can have a sword fight.”

He practically shoved you aside as he walked away from you as fast he could while you hysterically laughed at your goofiness. “You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” he sighed. And ridiculous you were…but so was he. He wanted to kick himself when he realized how hard he was for you. “Goddammit,” he muttered, picking up at his sweats.

You noticed immediately. “Wait…are you hard?”

Zoro was still turned away from you and went to clean his other exercise equipment, but you stopped him by jumping in front of him. He glared at you, wondering what else you were planning. He didn’t at all expect you to grab a handful of his hardened cock, emitting a groan from him. “You are!” you laughed. “So you do like the costume!”

Face beat red and clammy, he batted your hand away. “Shut up,” he growled. “What the hell were you expecting walkin’ around in that? It’s like you planned this from the jump.” Silence swelled around you and he raised an eyebrow at your wordless response. “Didn’t you?” he demanded.

Now he was getting it. Once again, you pressed yourself up against him and this time, he didn’t shy away. “You know, if we’re going to a party, I’m gonna have to move around in this.” You placed a hand on his broad chest, admiring the taught skin and tatted ink across his big pecs. “Think you can help me test that out in twenty minutes till the party starts?”

A fire flashed behind Zoo’s eyes as he gripped your ass in one hand, both cheeks fitting in his palm. You whimpered at the rough contact while his fingers on his other hand toyed with the zipper at the back of your costume. “I can do that and more, mama,” he growled. “Now how the fuck do you take this shit off?”

Thirty minutes later, you found yourself on your back, still in your costume, with Zoro on top of you and fucking you into the mattress below in your shared bedroom. The bed was rocking like a damn ship on a stormy sea with how much hard he was fucking you, your legs up and on his shoulders while his thick cock plunged in and out of you. “Z-Zoro!” you whined through pants and moans of pleasure. “We’re gonna be late!”

Your man shook is head above you, his face red and beads of sweet cascading down his handsome face. “I don’t give a fuck,” he grunted. “Should’ve known better than to have teased me like that. Now you’re gonna take all of this cum, mama.”

And you did. You weren’t too happy when he got nut on your costume and laughed about it.

SANJI (SLUTTY ANGEL)

He didn’t say anything for at least ten minutes. You thought the man was dead.

Ten minutes before, he was fine. You had pulled him away from his duties in the kitchen whipping up dinner before the big Halloween bash that the island you and the crew were currently relaxing on was throwing. Dinner that night consisted of clam and salmon fettuccini with buttered rolls, salad, and pumpkin and ghost-shaped cookies for dessert. Your man really knew had to throw down in the kitchen, which is why he is the chef of the crew.

Sanji was quickly to abandon his cooking to attend to you––his love; his beauty; his one and only. You stood in the middle of the kitchen with him, giggling as he ran his hands over your sides in your fluffy robe. “You sure dinner won’t burn?” you curiously asked.

He shook his head, practical hearts in his eyes. "The sauce is simmering and I just put the rolls on,” he replied, his hands still roaming. “The food is fine, my love. Now, what it is you wished to show me?”

He took your hands and pressed a heated kiss to them, always the one for physical touch as his love language. Lucky for him, it was yours too. You stood up on your tip toes and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, causing him to shiver. “I have a surprise for you,” you whispered. “It’s right under here.” You toyed with the tie of your robe, smirking up at him.

Sanji’s mind began to run wild with all of the naughty possibilities of what could be under your robe. Were you naked? Or in a cute little set of lingerie that adorned your skin and made it look soft and supple? When you finally yanked on the tie and let the robe fall, he was floored. None of his fantasies could’ve prepared him or had matched up to what was actually under your robe though.

When he saw you in your angel costume, he just about died a thousand times standing there. “Ta-da!” you sang. “It’s my Halloween costume for tonight’s bar crawl after dinner. Nami picked it out for me. You like?” You twirled for him, causing the fake, fluffy white wings taped to your back to flutter behind you.

Sanji didn’t know where to look first. You filled out the white corset bodysuit you wore quite nicely, your luscious breasts pushed up against the bodice where fake white feathers traced along the top as well as around the hem of your stockings that looked so damn good on your legs. You paired glittery, silver heels and a fluffy fake halo with your outfit along with a white collar where a silver heart dangled cutely around your neck, nearly smothered by your gorgeous titties the way Sanji wanted to be.

You looked absolutely ravishing.

Sanji didn’t even realize he was standing there, mouth agape and completely frozen. Noticing that your man’s brain had begun short-circuiting, you stepped up to him and snapped your fingers in front of his face. “Sanji, baby?” you asked. “Sanji, can you hear me?”

That’s when he finally blinked and a trickle of blood ran down his nose. A nosebleed. You barely reacted, having become used to your boyfriend popping nosebleeds when it came to you and your sexiness. He covered his nose immediately, luckily stopping the blood from spurting out all over you. “Hang on one moment,” he said, his voice muffled by his hand clapped over his mouth.

When he ran out of the room to assess the damage, you held your stomach in hysterical laughter. That was one of the reactions you were expecting. Minutes later, he came back, nose clean and free of blood “Damn, baby, you popped a nosebleed for me?” you laughed. You went up to him and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body into his.

He held onto your hips and pressed himself farther into you, making you gasp. Mostly because of the very real, very hard bulge he was now packing in his pants. That was another reaction you were hoping for.

“That ain’t all I’m popping right now,” he playfully whispered against your ear. He pressed a soft kiss there before moving down to your neck, littering your skin in kisses as he did compliments. “You look absolutely amazing, my love. Ravishing, even. No–angelic! Beyond heavenly!”

Now he was yelling. “Okay, Sanji,” you giggled, stopping him from alerting the crew. "I get it.” He pulled away to look down at you, his gaze full of adoration and love that made you melt into your heels. “You are the prettiest angel I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he sighed. “I must be in heaven right now.”

Your hand trailed down to grab his hip, your fingers sneaking under his shirt to press against warm, bare skin and toned muscle. “Not yet,” you purred, “but later.” Sanji shuddered at your touch, pressing his bulge into you fully. “Why later?” he questioned before pressing the slightest kiss on your neck. “Why not now?”

His lips worked your neck as he began to slowly grind into you, emitting a soft whimper from your lips. His big hands toyed with your hips, running over the fake feathers there. “S-Sanji,” you stuttered, “the dinner–“

“Is fine,” he growled against your neck. “I know my cooking, love, and I know it won’t be finished for another twenty-five to thirty minutes. We have plenty of time for that.”

He then pulled away and took your hand, a love-drunk grin on his handsome face that you couldn’t ignore or deny. “Now, my pretty little angel, off to your bedroom so you can take me to heaven.”

And when Sanji took you to his bedroom and slid into your pussy for the first time that night, he could practically see the pearly gates opening for him. Your fake halo and wings shook the harder he fucked you, one hand groping your naked breast while the other gripped your calve.

“Fuck, Sanji!” you shout to the ceiling, seeing stars behind your eyelids as his cock head glides against your G-spot.

Sanji grinned down at you, his gorgeous body coated in a light sheen of sweat and his smile love drunk. “That’s right, angel,” he moaned as he kissed your foot hiked up near his ear. “Take my cock. Let me take you to heaven too.”

Girl, you practically saw Jesus when he was done with you.

LAW (SCHOOLGIRL)

“What’s under the robe?” he asked, squinting confusedly at you. “You’re showering now? I thought you wanted to go to this stupid ass party.”

He sat on the side of his bed in a white tank top that hung loosely on his body, exposing his tatted skin and hard pecs that you love to suck on. You stand in front of him in your fluffy bath rope despite the white stockings underneath. The smile you wore faded at his sour attitude and your hands fell from the flap of your robe.

“Look, if you’re gonna have that attitude, you can stay home,” you scoffed. “I’d have no problem picking up a guy to dance with me in this little get-up.”

You twirled around to stalk toward the bathroom, missing Law’s glare directed at the back of your head.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, fire in his eyes. You scoffed once more, annoyed. You knew he was never a party person, but he also knew Halloween was your favorite holiday. The least he could do was act excited for Luffy’s Halloween party.

Supposedly, it was taking place on the Jolly Roger ship in the middle of the ocean and every single one of his friends (which were a lot) were invited, including you and Law. You wanted to look extra cute and sexy tonight, mostly for your man. But so far, he was coming off like he didn’t deserve any of that.

You turned to him, sniffing rudely at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” you muttered.

In a poof of nothing, he was gone from his spot on the bed and suddenly standing in front of you and the bathroom door. When you turned around, you nearly slammed into him. “Hey!” you shouted, glaring up at him. But Law could glare like it was his profession, making your stomach flip.

“Don’t play with me like that,” he demanded, not even having to raise his voice. “Now what did you mean by that? And what’s under there?” He cocked a pierced eyebrow at your robe, giving you the impression that he would take it off if you didn’t.

You rolled your eyes, but disrobed yourself anyway. There, you revealed your costume to him––a sexy, slutty schoolgirl outfit with a white top tied at your midsection to show a sliver of tummy and low enough to show off your cherry red bra underneath and a blue plaid mini skirt that stopped at mid-thigh and hiked up slightly in the back, barely covering your asscheeks where matching red lace panties were.

You glared up at Law. “There,” you scoffed. “Happy now?”

Law didn’t answer. He was too busy running his eyes over your tits which practically spilled out of your bra and how you filled out the little school skirt. “It was gonna be a surprise, but then you decided to be a grump and ruin it,” you blandly continued.

You watched his face for a reaction, but it was completely blank. Then again, Law had a poker face that he could’ve been born with. “Where…are your pants?” he carefully asked.

You almost laughed at the randomness of his question. Was he dumb? “In my drawer,” you replied. “Pants would’ve ruined the outfit. That’s why I’ve got stockings.” You pointed down at your skintight, white stockings that Law thought were absolutely adorable and wanted by his ears while he fucked you stupid in your school skirt.

He was still quiet, giving you the impression that he was criticizing your costume. It made you nervous. “So do you like it or…?” Still, he said nothing. But when you went to close your robe again and forget about this whole party, he put a hand on yours, stopping you. “You sure you have to go to this stupid ass party?” he asked.

“Law,” you criticized him, “it’s not–“

“Because I think it’d be may more fun for you to stay here and let me fuck you in this,” he continued without missing a single beat. You paused, blinking at him. “W-What?” you dumbly stuttered.

You now noticed how hooded and dark his gaze had become. He stepped toward you and you instinctively stepped back. “You heard me,” he softly growled. “You talkin’ ‘bout meeting some stranger to spend time with at this party just to spite me, when in reality, they’d have no idea what to do with this.”

He took another step your way and you stepped back, ending up falling into the bed back first. You gasped as you tripped backwards and Law immediately found his perch above you where he stooped down to run his lips over your breasts. “Stop,” you softly whined. “C’mon, Law, I have to–“

Your words died in your throat, replaced with a broken moan as one of Law’s skillful hands traveled down between your thighs to rub your pussy through your panties. He did it slowly; deliberately; taking his sweet time getting you wet as his lips kissed your neck.

“Could he do this?” he asked, still referring to that imaginary guy at the party you probably wouldn’t have met tonight. “Could he make my naughty girl feel like this?”

He nibbled at your earlobe, causing you to gasp. “Answer me,” he demanded.

“No,” you whimpered. “Law, please.” He knew exactly what you were begging for, but he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily.

“No, he couldn’t,” he agreed. “And other than a punishment, I think you need some reeducation.” He then rolled off of you, standing before you in all of his big, muscled glory, his cock hard beneath his sweats. “If you wanna be a naughty girl and dress like this, it’s only fair.”

So when he sat down on the bed and patted his lap, you absolutely knew what time it was. You ended up missing the party. Your ass stung too much from Law’s big hand spanking it to walk, your body ached from his rough fucking session to move, and your school skirt was stained with his cum as he pumped his cock all over your ass as he fucked you out of three orgasms.

And you loved every second of it.

SHANKS (SAILOR GIRL)

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

Seriously. He’d been playing poker with his crew for an hour and lost three rounds because he kept staring at your fine ass from across the bar.

He just couldn’t get over your little Halloween costume. It looked as if you were a sailor judging by the blue mini skirt that barely covered your plump asscheeks, striped low-cut top where he could just make out the red lace of your bra underneath, suspenders, and sailor hat tipped low over your head. You were standing by the bar laughing with Nami in her mermaid costume, and Robin in her skin-tight cheetah costume that Sanji was all over earlier.

Shanks felt like a old pervert watching you, especially with how his body reacted to the sight of you. His heart thumped and his cock surged in his pants, desperate to feel you. Why the fuck did you have to come here dressed like this of all places? Sure, it was a Halloween party, but it still wasn’t fair! Did you realize what you were doing to him?

“Damn, Shanks!” Yasopp laughed along with Shanks’ crew. “You’re losin’ everything!” Shanks came back to reality, realizing that one of his mates won and took his share of coin, emitting laughter from everyone surrounding him. “That’s the fourth round in a row,” Yasopp pointed out. “You losin’ the magic touch, Captain?”

Shanks didn’t have the energy to defend himself or even give a shit. Not when he could hear your gorgeous laughter from across the bar. At this point, his cock was ready to rip a hole through his pants with how much he was chubbing against the fabric. He stood abruptly, causing Yasopp to look at him like he was crazy. “Just hold my spot,” he said, barely even sparing his crew member a glance. “I’ll be right back.”

Yasopp noticed his captain’s hyper-fixation on a particular point across the bar and turned to see who exactly Shanks had his sights set on. As soon as he saw you in your sailor fit, it hit him. “Ohhh,” he said in realization. He smirked up at Shanks knowingly. “Alright then. Just try not to scare her off.”

Shanks didn’t even give him an answer. He just downed a shot to give him some liquid courage and put on the charm that he knew was there beneath the butterflies you gave him. They, however, only gave him a harder time, fluttering about in a frenzy the closer he got to you. He could smell your perfume now, giving him some very horrible, dirty, nasty visions that he couldn’t wipe away the harder he tried. All he could do was act like you weren’t getting him hard when he finally approached you and the girls.

“Hey, you,” he smoothly said, already putting on as much of the charm as he could while tipsy.

You turned around to face him, holding your rum punch. The glass was stained with your red lipstick that he desperately wanted to see around the head of his cock. “Shanks!” you happily said. “You finally took a break from poker to be with us freaks?”

“More like with one freak in particular,” Nami giggled, giving Shanks a knowing smirk. She knew exactly what he was here for, as did Robin. “We’ll just leave you two alone,” the black-haired beauty said with a sly smile. “We’ll be playing pool if you need us, Y/N.” She gave you a wink before walking off with Nami, leaving you two alone.

You gave Shanks an apologetic smile. “Sorry about them,” you sighed. “They’re very protective.” Your eyes darted to the left while you sipped on your drink. You appeared shy and almost nervous around him. Unbeknownst to you, it made him feel a lot more confident despite his horniness.

“As they should be,” he replied. “Especially in that little get-up.” He nodded at your costume, emitting a cute little giggle from your lips. “So you’re a sailor? I didn’t realize they made skirts that short for ‘em.”

“Yeah,” you said, almost shyly. “Figured I stick to a sea-based aesthetic for my Halloween fit this time around. The skirt was a little too short for my liking, but Nami insisted I wear it.” You picked at the skirt, trying to tug it down over your luscious thighs that Shanks pictured licking on. “Is it too much?” you asked, second guessing.

Shanks wanted to do everything in his power to make sure you didn’t second guess shit about yourself. Didn’t you realize how fucking sexy you were? “Not at all,” he replied. “You look perfect in it.” You smiled lightly at his compliment, making him feel like he won the fucking lottery. “I’m sure all of these other drunk, horny bastards would agree with me,” he chuckled.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “What, you’re seriously tellin’ me you ain’t notice all the eyes on you since you walked in here?” he asked. Even he noticed it, especially from Sanji’s perving ass. He made Shanks’ horniness look tame.

“Well, they’re irrelevant anyways,” you said, your pretty, brown eyes trailing down to stare at the floor. Shanks raised an eyebrow at your response. “And why is that?” He asked, his interest piqued.

“Because they’re not you,” you murmured.

Shanks heard you. It was impossible not to with how close he was to you, even over the music and loud chatter in the bar. He was initially shocked by how bold of a statement that was, especially from you, but then he grew even more insatiable for you. Now that he knew that the feeling he felt for you was mutual, he was more than ready to stop the flirty shit and get right to having his tongue down your throat; his hands on your ass; his lips on yours.

But he wanted to hear it again, louder this time. No more of that shy shit. So he stepped closer to you until his chest was right in your line of sight, blocking out everything behind him so you couldn’t escape him. “Sorry, what was that?” he whispered. “You’re gonna have to speak up for me, darlin’. It’s too loud for these old ears to pick up your pretty voice if you’re talkin’ low.”

He could how your body reacted to his words––your breath hitched; your teeth sunk into your bottom lip; your eyes grew hooded as they peered up at him through your lashes. “I said because they’re not you, Captain,” you softly replied, your voice taking on a more seductive tone that Shanks noticed immediately.

Yeah. He was definitely fucking you. He’d take you out for the finest lobster dinner and a nice walk on the town later, but right now? He needed to feel you squeezing around him and your soft, pretty voice letting out those moans he knew were inside of you.

“So you wore this for me, hm?” he questioned. His fingers toyed with your skirt, making your breath hitch again. “Interesting. Maybe we can discuss more about this over a walk?” You looked up at him, your lips still caught between your lips. You didn’t nod or even say yes. You just took his hand when he offered it and let him lead you out of the bar into the night.

Moments later, under the starry sky and in the quietest part of town, miles down away from the bar, you and Shanks find yourselves together with his cock buried deep inside of you and one hand pinning your thigh up against his hip while his other hand had your wrists pinned against a brick wall. Soft moans and gasps left your lips every time his cock slid inside of you, stretching out your wet walls, while he groaned at the feeling of you wrapped around him.

Your soft hands gripped his shoulders as his hips nailed into yours, your nails digging into his broad shoulders. You were doing your best to keep quiet, but it felt so good that you just couldn’t. That made him want to cum faster than he planned. “Sorry we couldn’t do this in a nicer place, sugar,” he groaned. “You just look too damn good to pass on.”

His hand slid down under your teeny, tiny skirt to grip and toy with your ass, your panties at your ankles. A shuddering moan escaped your lips as his pelvis rubbed against your clit, sending shivers throughout your body. “Fuck, I don’t care,” you whined into his ear. “Just don’t stop! Please, Shanks!”

Shanks pulled away to look down at you, his body pinning you harder again the wall. “That’s not my name, darlin’,” he sternly said. “Correct yourself or you’ll be missin’ out on an orgasm tonight.” He slowed down his thrusts and he swore that your soul nearly left your body.

“Captain!” you shouted to the starry skies. “Please make me cum, Captain!” He smirked happily at your reaction and his cock surged in response. “That’s much better,” he chuckled. “Now cum on this cock, sugar.”

And you did, right at the same time he burst inside of you, leaving cum dripping down your thighs only covered by the skirt he pulled down for you. The panties though? He kept those.

BUGGY (HARLEY QUINN COSPLAY)

“Is this you coming out as a slut?” he curiously asked. “‘Cause you didn’t have to go through all this trouble, doll face. I already knew.”

He stood in the bathroom brushing his teeth while you stood behind him in the Halloween costume that you were very proud of. You made the outfit and did your makeup yourself. But his reaction sucked all the joy and excitement out of you instantly.

You smacked him upside the head, earning a glare through the bathroom mirror. “Dickhead!” you shouted, irked at him trying hard to peck at your nerves. “It’s my Halloween costume! I’m Harley Quinn!”

You decided to go for the Harley Quinn outfit from the Batman animated series, with the red and black checkered jester one-piece and hat with the cute little pom-poms that dangled from either side of your hat. You paired it with some heeled leather boots and Harley’s mallet which you painted during your downtime. You also did your makeup, painting your lips red and wearing a mask over your eyes that Harley often wore in the show.

You felt cute and sexy. Sexy enough to seduce your clown boyfriend after a night of trick-or-treating…but of course, he had to be a dick and ruin your plans for role-play sex. He turned to you now, standing big and tall so he practically blocked out the sink behind him.

“I don’t know who that is,” he deadpanned. “And were you in my makeup again? ‘Cause that red lipstick looks awfully familiar.” He squinted at your lipstick, running a hand over his blue facial hair.

“No,” you sighed, rolling your eyes behind your mask. “And she’s from Batman. You know the DC comics?” Buggy still stared at you like he had no idea what you were saying. Then a light flickered behind his eyes. “Ohhh, nerdy shit,” he snickered. “Figures as much.”

He turned back around to the bathroom mirror, nearly dripping toothpaste on his wife beater than he filled out completely. Seriously: Buggy is huge. Anytime you stood near him, he made you feel like an ant (which also turned you on). “Says the guy who walks around in clown makeup,” you retorted. “The only nerd here is you, Buggy.”

He smirked in the mirror as he spat in the sink bowl and then dabbed at his mouth with a towel. “And yet people still tremble at the sight of me,” he cockily chuckled. He turned back around to face you, his eyes trailing over how your body filled out the jester suit. “So now what? Am I supposed to fuck you or something?”

You scoffed at his brazen words, planting your hands on your hips. “Oh, my God, you’re horrible,” you groaned, frustrated. “You’re supposed to take me out trick-or-treating!”

Buggy’s eyes widened at you and your plan. ”In that?” he asked, surprised that you even came up with such an idea. You nodded, not at all piecing together how much the suit stuck to your form. It left nothing for imagination, your titties and ass pushing against the fabric. “In that suit, you’d be getting more than just candy, sweetheart,” he chuckled, turning back around to fix his ponytail. He took the aqua-blue locks out of his hairband, letting it fall down his back.

You glared at him, wondering why you even tried in the first place…until an idea came to mind. You smirked at him as he continued to ignore you and prep himself. “Oh, I bet I would,” you purred. “All the fathers out there, especially, will probably be very happy to see me and give me every single bit of their candy.”

Buggy stopped moving entirely, leaving his hair out of its ponytail. “Maybe Shanks would appreciate my costume a little more, you think?” you asked. “Maybe I should see for myself.”

You turned to walk out of the bathroom, a giddy smile on your face as you laughed to yourself. That smile fell from your face the moment Buggy’s disembodied hand zoomed across the room to wrap around your throat. It squeezed, hard, emitting a gasp from you as you struggled to breathe. Buggy’s heavy footfalls thudded behind you as he came up to you.

“Say that again, slut,” he growled. “You know damn well that redheaded bitch couldn’t do shit with you. You’re way too much of a deviant little cockslut for him.”

His hand squeezed your throat tighter, making you squeak out a noise between a gasp and a whimper. His other hand slid down between your thighs, feeling the heat radiating there. “Admit it,” he demanded.

His grip loosened, giving you a chance to breathe. And be a fucking brat. “Not until you admit how much you love this costume,” you weakly shot back.

Buggy pressed himself against you, giving you a feel of his hard-on that slid against your lower back.

“Maybe,” he sighed. “After I’m done fucking that mouth until this makeup runs.” He turned your face to his and ran a thumb over your lips, smudging your lipstick. “Maybe then I’ll love this stupid costume even more.”

A devious glint appeared in his eyes, giving you a taste of what was to come next for you.

#smutty smut #my works #my one shots #one piece smut #one piece one shots #fem!reader #spooky season

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