#use this gif against your friends or something

[myfictionaldreams]

Edge of Glory // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Defiance is something you are not accustomed to, but when the love of your life is in danger, there is no stopping you. Now, the repercussions of your actions have you contemplating the decisions that you've made.

Requested by: My bestie, thank you for giving me the spark and motivation to continue writing!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, fluff, threesome (F/M/M), BDSM, punishment, sensory deprivation, crying, overstimulation, begging, edging (!), subspace, restraints, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, praise kink, degradation, aftercare

Words: 6.5k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Masochist: someone who enjoys pain. That word echoed in the forefront of your mind as your muscles strained and ached from the exertion. Deep breath in and out, shoulder joints rolling to ease the stiffness in your neck as your arms are raised in defence once more.

It’s not that you were averse to pain; in the right circumstance, pain could be mixed with pleasure or have a reward such as a tattoo or piercing. However, the pain that came with working out, forcing your muscles to move to their limits, and lungs burning with the movements were things you were not used to or could say you were enjoying at the present moment. Hence why, the woman in front of you, with stunning red hair and a bright, taunting grin, was being labelled a masochist because there was no way you could fathom that she was enjoying any moment of this, but the sharp laugh she released had you shaking your head in concern.

“Again,” she ordered breathily, her arms remaining at her side as she carefully stepped around the thin mat positioned in the centre of the office. The chairs and table are pushed against the wall, giving you more space.

Taking an exaggerated deep breath, ignoring that fire that coated the inside of your lungs, you lunged towards Natasha, looking as if you were going to grab her by the shoulders, but in the last second, you dropped to your knees. With surety and remembering the instructions of your mentor, who watched from the sidelines, you tackled your friend to the floor.

With the rush of air that escaped her lungs, you knew you’d taken her by surprise and couldn’t help the shit-eating grin across your face as you stared triumphantly down at Natasha.

Within a single blink, an unnatural grunt was forced from your no longer smiling lips as Nat was quick to swap the positions, causing your body to roll and her now hovering over you with both of your arms pinned on either side of your head.

“What now, Sugar? Try and get out of this one”, she taunted as her flaming hair framed her beautiful face. With a surge of adrenaline, you were able to swing your hips up, pushing her body away enough to kick your knee up. Natasha, the ever-professional bodyguard and part-time assassin, knew your next move and could twist both of your legs together until you were thoroughly held down with no hopes of escape. “Come on, you know how to get out of this hold, just think”, Natasha continued to tease, holding onto your limbs tightly.

The panic of being held down with the pain pulsing through your muscles, you couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even think of another way out, let alone the right way. Turning your head to the side to look towards your mentor, you were suddenly turned as Natasha forced your body onto its side as she tuts, “No cheating, don’t look for Wilson for the answers, use your head!”

“I can’t; I give up,” you grumbled as your face smushed into the cool mat, finding some relief in the lower temperature. Relief instantly eased into your limbs as Natasha released her hold on you, and you flopped face-first on the floor. “Thank you.”

“You did well today. You finally got me onto my back, which most can’t say. Good job!” Natasha praised you as she moved to grab a drink. You’d intended to raise a thumbs-up in her general direction, but all you could manage was flop an open palm onto the mat and continue to lay there.

The next voice that praised was Sam, your mentor and personal bodyguard, as he reprimanded Nat, “You didn’t have to play dirty; the hold was for next month's teaching, Romanoff”.

“Whoever said I played fair”, she teased, her voice sultry and low as she gently pushed against Sam’s shoulder. 

Not that you were particularly listening as you breathed deeply in the middle of the floor, becoming so relaxed that you contemplated having a nap. Except someone had other ideas as large, firm hands scooped beneath your body, causing you to groan dramatically as you’re lifted until sitting sideways in his lap, your face resting carefully against his shoulder as warm arms wrapped around you.

Steve held you closely, gently kissing the top of your head as you breathed him in, finding comfort in his cologne and warmth. For a moment, you admired the parts you were touching, from the firmness of her muscular body to the coarse, dark blond facial hair that rested against your temple. Lifting your heavy head, your lips pressed against the thick column of his neck, you asked, “Did I do good today, or is she just saying that because she has to?”

The brief grunt of a laugh that Steve released had your insides warming, especially as the vast chest you were resting on vibrated, nothing to you was more attractive than being the reason for your partner laughing. Once again, Steve kissed the top of your head gently before answering, “You did do good today, baby. Even though I don’t see the point in you having to learn all of these moves. There’s a reason why I hire all of my friends and colleagues to be your bodyguards you know”. 

You sigh into his neck, reaching up to play with the curling blonde wisps of hair at the nape of his neck, “I know but it still can’t hurt to know some self-defence, especially when, oh I don’t know, two of the most wanted and dangerous men in all of Brooklyn are my boyfriends”.

Steve hums against your forehead but you can feel him smiling. It’s not that you wanted to become as highly trained as either of your boyfriends or your bodyguards but with the way the company and job roles that everyone was playing, it was probably for the best that you had some skillset for defending yourself.

“Anyway,” you continue, leaning back slightly in his hold so you can look up into his bright sky-blue eyes. Maybe I’ll be good enough to get you or Bucky onto your backs one day. “The brightness in Steve’s eyes seemed to darken as his eyelids lowered. His gaze sharpened down to your lips, and you knew the hunger in his eyes wasn’t for food.

“Baby girl, if you wanted me on my back, all you had to do was ask”, as he spoke, he dragged you down as he led, your body now covering over his chest, legs shifting until you’re straddling over his waist. Pushing up against his firm chest, you grinned down at him, already feeling the warmth radiating from between your legs as you clenched in arousal.

“Hey! No fornicating on the gym mat!” Natasha shouts, interrupting the heated exchange for a second.

Not that this at all differed, Steve as his hands skimmed over your legging-covered thighs, massaging the muscles as he then settled over your hips, pushing your lower body down so that you could feel all of him, hard and pulsing between your legs.

As a moan of need slipped past your lips, a multitude of events happened. Every phone in the room, except yours, pinged with a single notification and all warmth, happiness and lust ceased to exist as this was never a positive text. Steve reached beneath your thigh to retrieve his phone from his trouser pocket. Reading it briefly before beginning to sit up.

Staring around the room, you could feel the energy was anything but positive from the frown now marring Natasha’s face.

Bucky, the tightness in the centre of your chest became unbearable as your eyes darted back to Stee, who was now carefully trying to stand between you. No words were spoken, but they weren’t needed. Just from Steve’s exterior, you knew it was something regarding Bucky. He was supposed to confirm a deal—no action, just papers and signing.

“Please,” your voice was barely heard over a whisper as you took a shaky step toward Steve, who began clipping his guns back into the leather holster hidden behind his suit jacket. You weren’t entirely sure what you were begging for—some reassurance? To come with them? But Steve hardly even paused to look at you as he rushed past, his hand cupping your cheek before moving towards the door with Natasha in tow.

On instinct, you followed his steps as the thumping of your pulse in your chest tempted you drastically with the spike of adrenaline.

“Hold up, Boss Lady. We’re staying here,” Sam calmly reminded you as he carefully stepped into your line of sight. For a moment, you relaxed under his gentle gaze as you examined him, from his buzzed short hair to his black polo top and jeans.

“There’s no way I’m staying here, I know it’s Bucky. I’m going”, you spoke with all the authority you could muster whilst stepping around him. However now, it was Steve blocking your exit as he stood to his full height, staring down at you with pity in his eyes.

“You’re going to stay here where it’s safe with Sam. I’m not risking you”.

Shaking your head, you try to push past his towering body, but he doesn’t budge a single step. Grunting in frustration, your eyes ablaze, you stare up at him again. “Please, Steve, don’t leave me behind when Bucky’s hurt! I know it’s him; I can feel it.” You press your hand over your heart for emphasis. “Don’t leave me here. I’ll sit in the car. Please let me come with you!”

Steve opens his mouth but a shout from lower down the corridor interrupts him as Natasha informs him that the car is ready. Rough fingers cup your cheeks, tilting your face towards him further as he leans down to kiss the tip of your nose and then your forehead, “I will call as soon as I can, but you need to stay here”.

Steve leaves without any time for argument. It takes a total of ten seconds before you rush back into the office, collect a hoodie, phone, and car keys, and plan to ignore Steve completely and rush after them, following the GPS on his phone.

One small, or rather tall interruption came in the shape of one frowning bodyguard as he held onto the front of your shoulders. “No”. Simple, authoritative, and mostly effective. But not today.

Pushing past him, you made it another step before he grasped your inner elbow and pulled you back. “No, you aren’t following them. If Boss’s orders are to stay here, we are staying here. I’m sorry I know that’s not what you want-”.

“What did the message say?” Sam’s jaw muscles tighten as he closes his mouth, saying nothing and everything simultaneously. “Exactly. Bucky is in trouble, and I’m not staying here waiting for a phone call to say whether he's okay or not. At least if I follow and stay in the car, I can have immediate answers. So it’s up to you. You can stay here or do your job and protect me in the car.” 

You were never firm like this with Sam, who was not only your bodyguard but also your best friend. However, right now, with adrenaline pulsing through your veins, there was no way you were going to act rationally. Sam took a moment to battle himself internally before cursing lowly under his breath.

“Fuck. They are so going to fire me but fine but you listen to everything I say. You must stay near the car; if there’s any sign of danger and we need to leave, you go without question. Understand?”

“Yes, I promise. Now let’s go!”

On the way to wherever Sam was driving you, your nerves seemed uncontrollable. Your legs bounced, and your fingers wrung together in an attempt to calm down. “They won’t fire you, you know, " you said to try to distract yourself as the scenery became one of vast landscapes, greenery, and nothingness.

“Oh yeah? And how do you work that one out then?” 

“Because you’re still protecting me, no matter where we go. I have full trust in you, Sam, and I know they do, too. They’d be as lost without you as I would be.”

His face seemed to ease slightly as he reached across the centre console and gripped your fingers tightly, stopping your movements and reassuring you.

Entering into a derelict area, Sam reminds you again of your promise to stay close to the car as he parks, where you recognise Steve and a couple of other SUVs who have haphazardly parked outside of a warehouse. Stepping out of the vehicle, you remained close as promised, but Sam stood directly before you, his gun raised and prepared to be used.

It was silent. Entirely and utterly silent. There weren’t even birds singing in the trees nearby; only the wind rushing over your face as the hood flapping in the breeze kept you company. You wanted to talk, to replace the silence, but knew that would earn you a one-way ticket to being placed back into the car and removed from the area because what’s one way of announcing yourself to the enemies? Talking, that's for damn sure.

Your knuckles ached as you clenched your fist tightly, waiting and waiting. At one point, you had to lean onto Sam's back, rest your forehead against his back and take a few steady breaths to prevent hyperventilation as the worst thoughts came to mind.

A loud bang, you at first mistaken for a gunshot and therefore had Sam pushing you to the ground, but soon realised that it was the metal door slamming open. Voices then echoed into the open area. You searched over Sam’s shoulder, and men and women dressed in black began to exit the building. 

You recognise them as part of your team, and the muscles in your and Sam’s bodies relax as you shoot to stand up. However, once again, your bodyguard forces you back: “Easy, Boss Lady, give them a second.”

You knew what he was referring to, as neither of your boyfriends had yet to follow the team out of the building. Just as you were about to push past the protection in front of you and storm the warehouse, the loud door slammed again to allow Natasha, Bucky and Steve to exit.

The brunette man was being supported by the blonde and red-haired, limping on a foot that barely scraped along the floor. The relief that rushed through you was overwhelming as you slumped against the side of the car, sucking in easy breaths as all tension and tightness in your chest eased.

“Hang on, let me call her,” came Steve's distant voice. Before you could react, your phone began to ring loudly, filling the quiet within the area. The two of you had previously been concealed by the multiple vehicles, but there was no hiding that you’d gone directly against Steve’s orders now. The ringing instantly stopped, and you were suddenly face to face with your fuming boyfriend.

Before he could react or speak, you were darting around him and racing towards Bucky, who Natasha was holding up. A whoosh of air burst from his lips as he wrapped his metal arm around your shoulders, holding your body close to his as you breathed him in, gripping the back of his crisp, button-up shirt. He mostly looked the same as when he’d left you hours ago: a black suit, buzzed hair, and clean-shaven hair.

“You let her come?” Bucky asked with indifference and concern, directing the question to Steve, now a step away. You would have been sheepish and embarrassed, but the relief that Bucky was alive was overwhelming as you held him tighter.

“Do you really think I would let her come when you send a text like that?” Steve retorts back with frustration, lacing his words.

Bucky’s hold seemed to loosen slightly as he tried to defend himself: “I asked for SOME backup; I didn’t expect all of this to come! Especially not you.” At first, you assume he’s referring to Steve, but as Bucky gently pushes back against your shoulders, you realise he’s talking to you. Now, the full extent of your embarrassment flushes your cheeks with warmth as you refuse to meet his eye.

Staring down, Bucky is now resting some weight on his foot, which had previously appeared injured. “What happened to your foot? Are you okay? Where else are you injured? I need to see!”

As you spoke, your fingers ran over different body parts, ignoring the burning stare from Steve as you did so. Not happy with being ignored, he stepped forward, standing between Bucky and yourself as Steve cupped your cheeks as he did before leaving, forcing you to look and meet his stare.

Even though you could tell he was angry and frustrated, he was only ever soft and gentle with his touches as he demanded, “What are you doing here? I explicitly told you to stay behind and not to follow!”

Licking your dry lips, you emphasised, “I couldn’t stay at the office knowing Bucky was hurt! Sam was with me the entire time; I was completely safe!”

This was an entirely wrong thing to say to him. His glare turned to your bodyguard, who had remained by the car, leaning against it casually and holding his hands up in defence. “I couldn’t say no to her, alright? She was going to follow whether I liked it or not.”

“The command was to keep her at the office, where it’s safer than standing directly outside the conflict, Wilson.” You flinched at using his surname, something Steve tended not to do when it came to his longtime friend. “It should be fairly simple to read behind the lines and keep her there by any means necessary.”

Now it was your turn to have the fiery rage of anger in your glare as you snapped, “Excuse me? Stop talking about me like I’m not here. What would you have had him do? Tie me to a chair? I don’t think so-”

“That’s exactly what I would have expected him to do”, Steve cuts you off as he leans down so the tips of your noses rub together. “You know what? We aren’t discussing this out here, so get in the car. Please”, he added for good measure. Following his instructions, you climbed into the back of the SUV that you’d arrived with, Bucky following closely behind, sliding in beside you, Steve in the front with Sam driving.

The drive was tense and silent as you thoroughly checked Bucky. He had only slipped on blood and twisted his ankle, which was already nearly back to normal thanks to his healing abilities. You could see Steve’s jaw clenching from the front of the car as he shook his head in disappointment. “Why didn’t you listen to me?” he asked, turning in his seat to look at you directly.

Leaning into Bucky’s side, you didn’t back down from your reasoning, “I’ve already told you why.”

“I never give you orders, not in our personal lives or on the job, but this was important, and I needed you to listen to me.”

“What, so you expect me to just sit pretty at home and wait around all day for you both to come home? What’s the point in me training with Natasha if you don’t even give me the chance to help?”

Bucky's hand squeezed your thigh as he reprimanded, “That’s not what he meant, and you know it”.

 “I don’t think you understand how important your safety is to me. You never come to where the danger is, not out by the warehouse where something could have happened to you, too. You made a stupid decision by not listening to me.

 I can’t lose you, Bucky. I want a life where I know you are safe at home and can protect you or trust the people I pay to look after you. Anything I do now is to ensure I can provide for my family and keep them safe, which means keeping you safe. So, next time I ask you to please remain where there is no danger, I expect you to do so. Do I make myself clear?

“So I’m supposed to stay behind knowing you AND Bucky are in danger? Just like that?”

“Yes, just like that,” Steve answers like it's the simplest thing in the world. It wasn’t; it never was, and you struggled more and more with it every time either of them left to do anything related to the mafia.

There were a thousand things you wanted to say, to argue back to him, but through the fogginess of red, you couldn’t see and feel the urgency with which he spoke. He was scared. As scared as you were for Bucky and Steve, he liked to bottle this emotion up more than anyone you knew. As much as he craved the control of being the leader, you knew he was close to breaking.

Reaching forward, you cupped his face, not wanting to argue anymore. You knew he was saying these things and being firm because he was scared. “I will try, Steve. I’m sorry I scared you, and I’m sorry for not doing as you asked.” Thankfully, he nodded, the tension easing tenfold as he kissed the inside of your palm before turning around in his seat.

Returning to your home, you quickly had Bucky undressed and checked for any further injuries, knowing he liked to downplay them. His ankle, now only a slight yellow hue to the skin, could be moved without any flinching or pain voiced by him, but you sat with his ankle in your lap so that you could hold some ice to the area as he sat in his boxers. 

Steve had gone to shower but had yet to speak to you since being in the car. Guilt lay heavy in your stomach. It wasn’t an argument, but there was still a bitter taste in your mouth as you continued to think about him. Following Steve to the location was more an instinct than a logical thought. These two men meant the world to you.

A cool finger curling around the top of your ear had you pulling out of your thoughts, “What’s going through that pretty little head of yours, Doll?”

“I think I upset Steve”, you say, stating the obvious and leaning heavily into the back of the couch.

“You’ve upset us both”, Bucky reminds you, causing your head to snap in his direction, the unease making you feel queasy. “Woah, I didn’t mean it like that, Sweetheart. We aren’t angry with you; we just never want you to be in danger, you know that”. You nod your head in understanding. 

“I’m worried I’ve broken his trust in me. I should have just stayed back like he said”, you admit sadly. Bucky sits up hearing this, his muscles flexing, working as a quick distraction from your happiness as he moves closer, his metal arm working between your back and the couch so you’re being pulled into his side.

“I can understand why you wanted to come along and check on me, but we know what’s best in these situations. We’ve been doing this a long time, Doll. Everything will be fine. I’ll go and speak to him, and I know he still trusts you; he just needed to clear his head a little bit.” 

Bucky stands, testing his weight on the foot that looks practically healed, before leaning down, kissing your temple, and jogging up the stairs. A few minutes pass before he returns with a grin on his handsome face. 

“He’s fine, exactly like I’d told you. Come on, it’s getting late; let’s go to bed.” Taking his warm hand in your own, you followed willingly. Not realising how exhausted you were from the high emotions of the day and the previous workout at lunchtime, you now thoroughly looked forward to falling into your soft bed with both your partners wrapped around you. 

Bucky stepped into your bedroom first, followed closely by you as you automatically moved towards the en-suite to prepare for bed. In your haste, you did not notice the tall, muscular man waiting for you until his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling your body back against his hard. Squeaking in shock, you soon melted into the hold, especially as Steve’s other hand cradled the front of your throat.

“I’m sorry-“ you’re forced to stop talking as his hand covers your mouth. It was only then that you realised that he was utterly naked, as evidenced by the hardness stabbing into your lower back as you leaned into his hold.

“No talking now, baby girl. Bucky told me what you said downstairs, and let me start this by saying there’s no one I trust more than you, so I never want you to think negatively about that ever again. Next, as much as I’m over the day, I think some repercussions need to happen, don’t you agree, Bucky?”

Stepping so he was standing in front, you watched as Bucky began to slowly remove his boxers until the thick length of his hardened cock sprang up and pointed in your direction. Thankfully, Steve continued to hold you up as your knees began to feel weak with the need to drop to them and please your boyfriend as he licked his lips, nodding his head. “Yeah, I’d say someone has earned a punishment after not listening to orders today”.

Punishment. That one word has you snapping out of the lustful gaze as you try to pull away from Steve. “Shh, easy, Sweetheart. It’s not going to be a painful punishment. I need you to trust me; you trust me, right?”

The fingers covering your lips move enough for you to agree, “Yes, I trust you both quickly”.

“Good,” Steve proudly responds before forcing your legs to move with him. You’re facing the bed now and see that the quilt and pillows have been removed and restraints attached to each corner. “Arms up,” your boyfriend asks, and you comply.

Carefully, the two men begin to strip your clothes until you’re as nude as they are. A shiver runs up your spine as you’re led down to the centre of the bed. Steve begins to remind you of the rules as Bucky tightens the straps around your wrists and ankles until you’re completely tied down.

“We won’t cover your mouth, so you can tell us to stop at any time or red and amber as usual. You can also shake your head, and we will stop, do you understand?”

“Yes”.

“Yes, what?” he says with his eyebrow raised expectantly.

Swallowing audibly, you wished at that moment that you could reach out to touch him as you all fall into the role perfectly. “Yes, sir”.

“Good. Do you have the blindfold, Bucky?”

A black satin eye mask is carefully placed over your eyes until all you can see is darkness. This is followed quickly by headphones that begin to play classical music.

Sensory punishment was their plan, and you couldn’t help but feel trepidation build in your core. You couldn’t touch either man, only the softness of the bed sheet beneath. You couldn’t hear them talk, moan, or specifically praise, which you always worshipped when with the two of them. Without sight, there was no way you’d know when or where they would touch you.

It was a vulnerability that you’d learned to have complete trust in Steve and Bucky.

There was one more twist as leather began to stroke down the centre of your chest in a gentle caress—gloves. Whoever was touching you had put on leather gloves, which meant there was no determining who was touching you. Usually, Bucky’s metal hand would then indicate who was who.

With a heavy breath, you tried to calm your nerves as you focused on the touch as whoever it was explored your chest. Delicate strokes of the gloved palm ran over your breasts, pressing into the softness of your chest and then pinching your already hardened nipple. 

The anticipation and thrill of the situation meant that your upper thighs were already sticky with your arousal. Moreover, there was no covering this with how your legs were spread, and you knew that Steve and Bucky were probably staring right at it.

The mattress dipped between your spread legs as someone crawled between them. The deep breath you were drawing in stilted as firm hands cupped each of your ankles, exploring the skin as they ever so steadily moved to your inner thighs. Trembling was an understatement with how much the anticipation was pulsing through you. The image of a naked Steve and Bucky flicked in your imagination, feeling utterly vulnerable under both of their eye.

Your clit pulsed with desire, awaiting a touch, flick, lick, anything; you were desperate for any sort of touch to ease the ache that was burning through your cunt.

It wasn’t any of these touches, though, that greeted you. It was a raw, penetrating cock stretching you to your limits as it inched in. Your back arched with the intrusion, arms and legs pulling on the restraints with the movement as you tried to adjust to the intrusion.

The words ‘Bucky’ and ‘Steve’ continuously begged from your lips as inch after inch pushed further inside. It hurt to be stretched, but it was a burn that you needed and craved, the blinding pleasure that came with it almost acting as a drug to cover the pain. Maybe you did like pain after all.

Heaving in a breath as the weight of the mysterious hips fitted perfectly in with yours, spreading your thighs further apart. The sensation of the cock being completely inside felt almost like it was too much, and you were sure you had spoken those words out loud, but the noise was muffled with the music continuing to play in your ears.

A sharp sting across your breast had you almost biting the tip of your tongue as you clenched tighter around the hardness inside your walls. Teeth. Sharp teeth nipping at the soft tissue surrounding your nipple came as a welcome distraction.

The first thrust was driven with power, deep and blinding with pleasure, as whoever it was did not hold back, and it was just what you needed. Fast and hard seemed to be the theme of the night as your body moved with the fucking, your hips attempting to roll with the movements, but heavy hands pushed down on your waist, keeping you thoroughly pinned in the centre of the bed.

You were at their mercy. The punishment aspect seemed to be more a reward than anything negative as you accepted every ounce of pleasure both men were willing to give you. The pulsing of your walls increased with the thrusts until that beautiful sensation built, tightened and ready to explode into a sympathy of bliss.

Except, just as your orgasm was about to peak, all hands and cock disappeared from your body, leaving your body cold and empty. Whining and pulling against the restraint, you could do nothing but feel the squeezing of your cunt in the attempts to chase the orgasm fades to nothing.

It truly dawned on you now. The sensory restraints weren’t the punishment. The lack of an orgasm was. Regret already was writhed with the begging coming from your mouth, but it was ignored as the hands resumed their wondering of your breasts and a cock fucked back into you.

With the overwhelming sensations, you were unsure if it was a different cock or the same. You were so thoroughly turned on that the wetness that was coating your cunt and upper thighs aided with them fucking inside of you.

On and on, the pleasure continued, fucking and pausing until finally, whoever it was that was inside of you had reached its limit and quickly pulled out, and a warm, wetness began to coat your stomach.

Steve or Bucky had just come over you instead of inside as you’d preferred. It felt dirty. Degrading and once more added to the punishment as you continued to try and wiggle your hips to continue chasing your pleasure that never peaked. However, there wasn’t even a moment to contemplate this as you’re being fucked once more, presumably by the other boyfriend.

It was an endless cycle. Edged to the point of orgasm before it all comes to a stop, just to have cum sprayed over your abdomen. Usually, Steve and Bucky’s heightened libido was a blessing, but tonight, as they fucked on and on, cumming again and again, you were quickly losing your mind.

The caressing over your nipples thankfully lessened as you could feel the blindfold over your eyes dampen with tears of overstimulation and frustration. Yes, you could scream yellow or red, you could stop this all, but somewhere at the forefront of your mind, you wanted to take this punishment, and there was no one you trusted more than Steve and Bucky; once you had hit your limit, they always stopped. 

The layers of cum coating your stomach began to dry, causing your skin to feel irritated and tight. All the sensations going over your body became disorientating, leaving you feeling spaced and like you were lying on a cloud, suspended in the air, floating with no chance of returning to earth. Your hands were numb from the restraints, your lungs aching from crying and pleading to please orgasm.

Each breath only heightened that sensation until you were close to hyperventilating. A firm gloved hand rested in the centre of your chest, and the pressure helped to remind your spinning mind to slow your breathing as you sucked in a wet, heavy breath.

The fucking continued. It felt like hours had passed. Your cunt was swollen, drenched and sore. From the edging, fucking and touching of the leather-covered fingers. You were sure if this went on for much longer, you’d pass out, so you attempted to hide your face in your shoulder, but the large headphones stopped the movement.

More cum coated your middle, and as your body tensed with the anticipation of being fucked again, you couldn’t help but sob further when it never came. Instead, the headphones are removed from your ears, and the momentary silence causes you to shake your head with disorientation. 

“Easy, Doll. Slow your breathing for us; you did so fucking good; you did so well for us”, Bucky gently praised as he removed the damp blindfold. However, your eyes remained clamped shut as you stayed in that subspace.

Warm hands massaged your arms and legs, working the muscles until they tingled as the sensation returned to them as you were released from the restraints. “Careful, Baby, move slowly. That’s it, good girl”. Steve’s voice was calming and yet distant as your sobs echoed in your ears.

“Can you open your eyes for us? Let’s see those pretty eyes come on,” Bucky coaxed as his cool metal fingers stroked against your wet cheek. The touch was soothing and grounding, like the praising words and comfort. However, you couldn’t muster the energy to open your eyes, so instead, you nuzzled into his palm and concentrated on slowing your breath enough that the tears finally stopped.

What followed was utter exhaustion, physically and mentally. Thankfully, this is where your boyfriends shine as you’re quickly scooped into Steve’s arms, your head feeling heavy against his muscular shoulder, leaning further into his natural body heat as he carried you into the bathroom.

You were half asleep as he waited for Bucky to fill the bath with warm water, but as he carefully eased the two of you into the tub, did you wake enough to hiss through your teeth as the heat of the water surrounded your aching body. Even as the warmth soothed your cunt, as you naturally clenched, the soreness throbbing caused a pathetic whine to come from you.

Steve’s arms held you more firmly as he settled back in the tub, Bucky joining behind with his chest pressing against your side. After a couple of breaths, the water's warmth helped you relax until you were blissed out, the punishment long forgotten as you nearly fell into a deep sleep in their arms.

Aftercare was always something they did very well. Both men were so attentive and caring that you would have shed a tear with love and affection if you weren't already mentally numb. Bucky carefully washed your hair and then your body with his body wash, pine and citrus scent that gave you further comfort in these moments. Also, you secretly thought that Bucky used it as a possessive touch, loving it when you smelled like him and no one else.

Steve continued to whisper words of affirmation, helping to bring you out of the submissive headspace and back to reality whilst also trying to check in on your well-being. “Shake or nod your head for answers. Are you in any pain?”

Shaking your head no, you could feel the tenseness in Steves's posture relax as he kisses your temple reassuringly. “You took your punishment so well tonight. I’m so proud of you”. This particular praise had you smiling and leaning further into their touches. “I think that’s the longest you’ve been edged for as well. Do you want to cum? You aren’t being punished anymore, and I think you’ve more than earned a reward”.

You could hear the smile in his tone as you contemplated his offer. You were sore and aching, that was for sure, and you’d been begging for so long to have an orgasm all night, so with some uncertainty, you nodded against his chest.

With gentle touches, Steve turns your body so you’re now facing Bucky, your back pressed against the blonde’s sturdy chest. Carefully, Steve eases your thighs apart, and just as you anticipate the pain that is sure to come with being fucked by fingers or a cock, you’re crying out in pleasure as Bucky lowers his face and dives right in. 

Your eyes open in shock as your body jolts with the sensation of his warm, soft tongue circling your clit as you look down at Bucky, the lower part of his face beneath the water. You were so sensitive and so desperate to orgasm that he didn’t even need to come up for air before you were tightening and throbbing with bliss.

You’re left feeling sated, and your body turns to mush as you collapse back against Steve. You’re only half aware when lifted out of the water and carefully dried. An oversized, soft t-shirt is pulled over your head before you return to the bed.

With your face pressed to Bucky’s chest as Steve spooned you from behind, legs completely tangled with your own, your last thoughts lingered on the day's events. It seemed so did both of your boyfriends as they held you tighter, and an echoing of “I love you” was shared before darkness finally consumed you all. 

[greengoblinswifey]

Game of Deception—Lee Myung-Gi/Player 333 x Fem!Reader

summary— You and Myung-gi, share a growing attraction despite the chaos around you. But when his past surfaces, including a pregnant ex-girlfriend, your trust in him is shattered.

warnings—angst, manipulation, face fucking, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, slight degradation, betrayal.

Most of the players were asleep, but Lee Myung-gi wasn’t. You noticed him sitting up, his shoulders tense, staring off into the distance.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked softly, pulling the thin blanket around your shoulders as you sat up.

He turned to you, startled for a moment before his expression softened. “No, too much on my mind.”

“Do you want to lie down with me? It might help.” You hesitated before patting the small space beside you.

He gave you a small, shy smile and nodded. “Sure.”

As he lay beside you, the warmth of his body was comforting despite the cold reality of where you were. You felt his arm hesitantly drape over your waist, and you didn’t stop him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured after a moment, his voice barely audible over the soft snores of other players in the room.

You smiled, your heart fluttering at his words. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he replied, as his eyes roamed your face.

This wasn’t the first time Myung-gi had looked at you like that. From the moment the games began, you noticed his quiet, reserved nature, how he tried to stay out of trouble but always had a sharp eye for the dangers lurking around. It had been during one of those dangerous moments that you first stepped in for him.

Thanos and his bird brained friend had cornered him during the chaos of the first night. “What’s the matter, pretty boy? Too scared to fight back?” Thanos taunted, shoving him roughly.

Before Myung-gi could respond, you stepped forward. “Why don’t you pick on someone else asshole?” you snapped.

Thanos turned to you, laughing until he realized you weren’t backing down. “What’s it to you baby?”

“It’s that I don’t like bullies,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You think intimidating him makes you tough? All I see is a desperate for attention piece of shit.”

For a moment, it seemed like Thanos would retaliate, but your unwavering glare and the growing attention of other players made him back off. “Whatever,” he muttered, walking away with his friend.

Myung-gi had looked at you with something akin to awe. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly.

You shrugged. “I wasn’t about to let them mess with you.”

From that moment, the two of you stuck together. You shared meals, sitting side by side as the reality of the games sunk in. He always made sure you had enough to eat, even offering you a portion of his food at times.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said one night as he pushed his bowl toward you.

“It’s fine,” he replied, a small smile on his lips. “You need your strength.”

His quiet protectiveness was something you weren’t used to, but you found yourself growing more attached to him with each passing day.

A few minutes after his whispered compliment about your beauty, you leaned closer, your voice low. “Come with me to the bathroom.”

He blinked in surprise but nodded, curiosity evident in how he stared at you. The two of you slipped past the sleeping players and surprisingly indifferent guards. Once inside the bathroom, you led him into a stall and locked the door behind you.

“Myung-gi,” you breathed, leaning back against the wall, your eyes locking with his. His dark gaze flickered between your lips and your eyes, and before you could say another word, he closed the space between you, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was both soft and urgent.

His hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. The cold stall melted away, replaced by the heat radiating between you.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, his forehead pressing to yours.

“You think I’m not just as crazy about you?” you whispered back.

His lips curved into a small smile before he kissed you again, slower this time, as if savoring every second.

The attraction between you was impeccable, impossible to ignore despite the circumstances. His hands traced your sides, then down to your ass, and his lips pressed kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered.

As the moment intensified, you pulled back slightly, catching your breath. His hands remained gentle on your waist, his gaze searching your face for any hesitation.

“You’re incredible, Myung-gi,” you said softly.

He smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. “And you’re all I think about, even in this hell hole.”

You were deeply attracted to him. You weren’t sure if you were just being codependent due to the harsh reality of the games and you needed something—someone to take your mind off it, or you just really liked him. Whatever it was, you didn’t care. All you cared about was him and possibly making it out alive. All you cared about was pleasing him, having him see you the way you saw him. So, you fell to your knees.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty,” he moaned as you pulled down his pants and boxers in one swift motion.

As you freed him, your lip caught in between your teeth. He was hard and thick, already leaking pre cum from his pink tip. With your gaze locked on his, you slowly took him into your mouth, lips and tongue gliding across the shaft. Myung-gi hissed as you took him further, your hands stroking what you couldn’t take down your throat.

“Fuck baby, just like that,” he rasped, his hand tangling in your curls.

His praises willed you on and you began bobbing your head steadily, saliva beginning to drip down your chin.

“You look so fucking good like this, on your knees for me,” he praised.

His grip tightened in your hair and you dug your nails into his thigh as he began to thrust into your mouth. Each time he did, the bulbous head would hit the back of your throat making you gag.

“I love hearing you gag on my dick,” he breathed, looking down at you, jaw agape.

Your tongue glided across the shaft as his thrusts grew more frantic and without warning, you felt something warm and salty shoot down your throat. He held your head down on his cock, your nose buried in his neatly trimmed pubic hair as you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. When he finally let go you swallowed and gasped for breath.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he said, pulling you up to your feet and placing a kiss on your lips.

While you were happy he felt that way and you were able to please him, something felt—off. But you couldn’t place your finger on it.

You felt Myung-gi’s warm breath on the nape of your neck as he whispered, “Turn around.” His voice was soft but carried a weight of authority that made your heart race but you turned to face the wall of the stall.

There was a sense of urgency in his touch as he rested his hands on your hips, pulling down your pants and your underwear, steadying you. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Trust me.” The closeness sent a shiver through you, and you let out a shaky breath, nodding.

You gasped loudly as you felt his hard cock tease your entrance, slowly slipping inside you, the stretch burning. He stared down at his cock that was covered in your cream as he pulled out of you, leaving only the tip inside. He slammed back in, your ass recoiling against him as you cried out.

“Quiet,” he whispered, his tone gentle but commanding. “You’re doing so well.” The words sent warmth rushing through you, and you felt his hand snake around to rest lightly at your throat. His other hand reached down, thumb stroking your clit in rough circles, and his lips pressed soft kisses to your shoulder.

His thrusts sped up, growing sloppier by the minute. Each time his cock disappeared inside you, it would hit your g spot making you shudder and bite back a moan. You pushed your ass back against him but it made him tighten his grip around your throat. He called the shots and you absolutely loved it.

“Cum with me,” he murmured against your skin, “squeezing my dick so fucking tight.”

He rolled his hips to meet yours and as you felt his cum spurt inside you, your own climax took ahold of you. You moaned his name like it was the only word you knew, the orgasm the best thing you had ever felt these past few days.

When the moment passed, Myung-gi’s forehead rested against your shoulder, his breathing uneven as he muttered a quiet, “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t mean to cum inside you.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head to ease the awkwardness. “It’s fine,” you said with a smile. “Not like we need more problems right now.” He let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing through his hair as he looked at you with an apologetic smile.

With care, he helped you straighten up and quietly cleaned you off. You both slipped out of the bathroom and returned to the dormitory in silence, careful not to draw attention.

Back in your corner of the room, you lay down on the small bed, noticing how Myung-gi didn’t pull you into his arms as he had the nights before. He stayed near, but the space between you felt heavier than it should. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, his expression unreadable as he stared at the ceiling.

“Goodnight,” you whispered softly, hoping to ease the tension.

He nodded, but his response was delayed. “Goodnight,” he finally replied, his tone distant.

You turned over, staring at the other players and willing sleep to come. You didn’t want to overthink it—there was too much at stake in the morning—but a small part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. Still, you pushed the thoughts aside. You needed to rest. The next game wouldn’t wait for anyone.

The nerves in the dormitory felt heavier the next morning, though you couldn’t tell if it was because of the lingering tension from the previous night or the looming threat of the next game. Myung-gi sat across the room, his head bent slightly as he talked quietly with another player, a woman you hadn’t really noticed before. She clutched her stomach occasionally, her face pale and tired.

You tried to ignore it, focusing on your own nerves, but the way they spoke, close and hushed, stirred something bitter in your chest. When their conversation ended, you approached him, your tone light but curious.

“Who was that?” you asked, nodding in the woman’s direction.

He glanced at you briefly and shrugged. “Nobody.”

Nobody. The word lingered in your mind, sour and unconvincing, but you didn’t have time to push the matter.

The game that day was brutal, each second teetering on the edge of survival. You nearly lost your life more than once, the screams of other players ringing in your ears as you clawed your way through. Myung-gi, however, didn’t stay near you like he usually did. He stuck close to the woman—Player 222 and it wasn’t subtle. Every glance he threw her way, every time he stepped in to help her, made your blood boil.

By the time you both staggered back into the dormitory alive, you were too drained to confront him. But you couldn’t let it go. After seeing him ignore you all day, you decided to approach the woman instead.

She sat quietly in a corner, her hands protectively over her stomach. Forcing a small smile, you made your way over, trying to keep your tone friendly.

“Hey,” you began softly. “You did well out there. I know it wasn’t easy.”

She glanced up, offering a weak smile. “Thanks, you too.”

You hesitated, unsure how to broach the topic. “I, uh, noticed you and Myung-gi talking earlier. Do you know him well?”

Her expression faltered. She let out a heavy sigh, her hand instinctively going to her stomach again. “We used to,” she admitted. “A long time ago.”

You frowned, a pit forming in your stomach. “Used to?”

She nodded, her eyes dropping to the floor. “We were together. I got pregnant, and he, well, he wanted me to get rid of it.” She paused. “When I didn’t, he walked away. Scammed me too. I shouldn’t even be here,” she said, shaking her head.

You stared at her, stunned into silence as her words settled over you like a heavy weight. She noticed your expression and sighed again.

“Look,” she said, “I’m not telling you what to do. Make your own decisions. But don’t trust him. He told me he wanted to get out of this together.”

Your chest tightened, your thoughts racing. You swallowed hard, offering her a weak smile. “Thank you for telling me,” you said quietly. “Take care of yourself. And your baby.”

She nodded, giving you a small, grateful smile.

You found Myung-gi sitting alone, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. You marched over, your heart pounding in anger and disbelief.

“When were you going to tell me?” you demanded.

His eyes opened slowly, confusion flashing across his face. “Tell you what?”

“That your pregnant ex-girlfriend is here,” you snapped.

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “You talked to Jun-hee, didn’t you?”

“She told me everything,” you hissed. “How you wanted her to get rid of her baby, how you took her money. And now, what? You’re telling her you want to get out of this together? The same thing you told me?”

“Hey, calm down,” he said, his tone defensive. “It’s not like that.”

“Don’t,” you said sharply, your voice trembling. “Don’t act like I’m overreacting. You’ve been ignoring me all day, sticking by her side, and now I find out you’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

“I didn’t lie to you,” he snapped back. “And don’t fucking say I used you.”

“Didn’t you?” you shot back, your voice rising. “You knew exactly what you were doing. And now you’re trying to downplay it like it’s nothing.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, okay? Things are complicated.”

“Complicated?” You let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t even care, do you? About me, about her. You’re just looking out for yourself.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. That silence was all the confirmation you needed.

“I’m done,” you said firmly, stepping back. “Don’t talk to me again.”

You turned and walked away, your chest aching as his voice called out faintly behind you. You didn’t stop. There wasn’t time for this, not here, not now. You had to focus on surviving, even if that meant doing it alone.

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: My Enemy I Love

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: TORTURE (BURNS), ANXIETY ATTACKS/RESPONSE, trauma from abusive mother, description of child neglect/abuse, GROSS MEN ALERT!

—————

Pourquoi ton prénom me blesse. Quand il se cache juste là dans l'espace? C'est quelle émotion, la haine ou la douceur, quand j'entends ton prénom?

It’s a bit harder braiding Lila’s hair with the cut healing on your palm but you made do. You sat on the couch while she sat on the floor between your legs playing with some toys given to her by members of the community.

“Then we took turns counting. I got to sixty-two!” She says and you smile tying the end of the one long braid with a band.

“Woah that’s pretty high,” You say smoothing out any stray hairs and she giggles at the tickling sensation.

“How high can you count?” She asks turning to face you and you smile swiping away the leftover crumbs on her puffy cheeks.

“Definitely not that high,” You say before helping her stand, “Alright all done!” You say and she runs over to the mirror in the hallway and you hear a squeal of excitement.

“I love it!” She runs back into the living room where you’re cleaning up and she crashes into you with a hug, “I love you Y/n,” It’s so innocent and you grow quiet as you hold her. You feel something churning in your stomach it was different when your mother said it with an emptiness to it that you’re used to but with Lila, it’s so genuine it feels wrong. Her small face scrunches as she reaches her hand up.

“You got an ouchie,” Her finger points at her mouth and your hand covers the partial split lip you have.

“It’s alright just an accident I was clumsy,” You say giving a smile that causes pain stretching your lips. “Come on let’s get you to meet up with your friends. Can’t keep them waiting,” Lila accepting the reason bounds to the door bouncing on her feet as you grab your pack slinging it over your shoulder. The second the door opens she’s bounding down the steps to the street excited to meet the kids she’s become friends with.

“Don’t run!” You say as she stops looking back at you following her before continuing her quick speed-walk skipping through the street. A soft smile creeps on your face, despite everything going on in this fucked up world few still saw the good, and truly the innocent still live like the world never ended. The small playground was built for the children beside the Tipsy Bison comes into view along with the sound of kids and Lila squeals rushing ahead and you let her. Reaching the fence that separates the playground from the street leaning against it watching the kids play. You catch flashes of Lila running amongst the kids playing games, a wide grin and laughter spilling freely from her. For a moment she trips landing on the mulch and you almost hop the fences but she takes the fall with stride quickly getting up and laughing it off running off to join the group. You settle back though still keeping an eye on her.

“Woah girl!” A familiar voice calls out and you see people move quickly out of the way of the quickly approaching horse to the playground. You smile seeing Red ignore her rider stopping before you letting a huff of air frustrated by your absence.

“Hi Red,” You hold out the back of your palm and she sniffs it before letting you pet her.

“She’s been extra grumpy since you’ve left the stables,” Joel calls out from atop her he also takes note of the split lip that is crusted over. You nod retrieving an apple from your pack that was meant to be your lunch and feeding it to Red who happily accepts. The sound of two other horses appear and you see it’s Tommy and Ellie on their mounts.

“Joel what the! Oh, that’s where she was heading,” Tommy trails off noticing you are there. It’s a bit awkward while you spoke to Joel since the big blowout you haven’t conversated with Tommy and especially Maria. The moment is broken by Lila’s little feet pattering over to the fence practically climbing up it.

“Horsies! Y/n it’s horsies!” She jumps on the fence and you reach over the railing pulling her up to sit on top of it.

“Lila this is Red,” You introduce your sister to the large creature, and Lila shrinks away a bit especially being this close. “It’s okay she’s not going to hurt you. She’s a big sweetheart,” You hold out Lila’s hand palm out and Red slowly leans forward sniffing her hand before pushing her snout further into it.

“See she likes you.” You smile down at Lila who shakes in excitement softly stroking her nose. Joel has a soft smile at the moment you share with your sister. He isn’t sure he’s ever seen you this soft-spoken and gentle with anyone before. While you still looked drained being around Lila brought a hint of life back into you. Joel glances at his brother and surrogate daughter seeing the similar looks that he too shared.

“I’m sure if you came back to working at the stables Lila would love to meet all the horses,” Tommy mentions and you look over at him surprised by the offer. Part of you wants to say yes, to have a reason to be out of that horse, a moment of peace of quiet.

“Please Y/n! I wanna meet all the horsies!” Lila begs shaking your arm and you steady her so she doesn’t fall off the railing.

“I don’t know…” You say rubbing the back of your neck. You would have time for yourself self but if you were gone then who would watch after Lila when your parents were home? There was never a moment when Lila was alone with your parents always being in the house. Too many fears of what could happen if you left them be, you saw how she was before they came to Jackson scruffy and dirty but here she was being taken care of…she was protected.

“Y/n!” The sharp shout sends you on alert and even the horses sense the change in atmosphere as Red gets a bit antsy until Joel calms her down pulling away. They're coming down the street is your parents. “We come back from our job and you leave the house in complete disarray?” Your mother says and you know she’s trying to embarrass you but it hurts even more that she’s lying straight through her teeth. Her sharp gaze moves to her other daughter who is held on the railing.

“Why is Lila dressed like that are you trying to get her sick, it’s way too cold to be out like this!” She scolds you practically ripping Lila from your arms.

“It’s not even cold she’s be running around—” “I don’t wanna hear it!” She spats and you can smell the liquor off her breath. She’s drunk and that only meant one thing. You were fucked when you got home.

“Let’s go.” Your father grabs you and Red makes an agitated noise. You try shrugging his tight grip on your shoulder but he only pushes you forward to move and you almost trip. It’s sudden and out of nowhere Joel coming and shoving your father away from you.

“Don’t touch her like that.” Joel growls and Tommy is immediately off his horse holding his brother back.

“Don’t tell me how to handle my kid.” Your father spits back the two men getting face to face and you know sooner or later punches will be thrown.

“Joel stop it! Let’s just take a step back!” Tommy tries defusing the situation and you shove yourself between the two men pushing Joel away and he stumbles a bit back. He has a shocked expression on his face and is almost a bit hurt.

“Joel stop,” You say shakily, “Please just don’t.” He can see what reads on your face, ‘You’ll only make it worse’. It seemed like it was pretty out in the air the relationship with your parents. There was no point trying to hide what goes on behind closed doors but they couldn’t do much if you didn’t want their help. Joel feels his anger rise again seeing the snarky look your father sends him.

“Learn to mind your business Joel,” He says before forcing you to walk away leaving Joel, Tommy, and Ellie to watch the dysfunctional and highly harmful environment you and Lila were in take you away.

“We can’t just let them leave.” Joel hisses and Tommy has to keep a hand on his shoulder as they watch you disappear down the street.

“Joel we can’t just take them,” Tommy says weakly and his brother whips around to face him.

“You know what they do to her!” Joel shoves a finger into his chest, “And you just want me to sit aside and act blind?!”

“I’m not saying that Joel!” Tommy retorts, “I care about her as much as you do…just give me time to figure something out.”

“We don’t have time,” Joel responds and his brother knows they are right. The longer they wait the possibility of the more harm you’ll end up in increases. Tommy sighs rubbing his face.

“Just give me tonight okay,” He offers and Joel bristles even having to wait that long, “Then you can go all rescue.” Joel huffs in agreement crossing his arms.

“You have until sundown.”

The door to the house slams open as your mother carrying Lila heads to her bedroom, your father shoves you into the spotless living room and you send a glare over your shoulder. He moves lean against the doorway as you hear the sound of your mother coming down the stairs. She stalks in silently an unclear look on her face.

“Mom why would you li—” Your head snaps to the right, a loud crack when her palm makes contact with your cheek. Your skin burns from it, tears well up from the contact and you can feel your split lip reopen.

“Don’t you ever backtalk to me you understand me you little shit?!” She spats flecks of spit landing on your face and you recoil back, “Who the fuck do you think you are embarrassing me in front of them. Do you know how to raise my child better?” She shoves you back and you stumble your back digs into the fireplace mantle cringing at the pressure. That’ll bruise. The rational part of you curls your hands into fists to defend yourself, but the part of your mind still wrapped around your mother’s finger tells you just to take your punishment. She notices your balled-up hands and the flash of irritation.

“You wanna hit me huh?” She goads you holding her arms out, “You wanna hit your mother come it do it. Hit me!” You shake your hands your fist still curled your nails digging into your palm, the cut on your palm screaming in pain.

“I’m not going to hit you.” You say and she scoffs.

“Oh so I’m a horrible mother who hits their children is that it!” She asks and you shake your head feeling the tears of frustration.

“I’m not saying that,” “Shut up!” She explodes and it’s silent between you two. You briefly glance at your father who stands there his arms cross not interfering. Is this what you wanted from your father, to just stand aside and let your mother harass you? Why couldn’t he be more like Joel, standing in to defend you?

“You are a fucking disappointment you know that.” She says and your throat tightens up and you shake your head making her laugh, “You don’t think that? You think you are the best there is. I should’ve let you fucking starve as a child.” You shrink into yourself at her jabs.

“Why do you think I had Lila? To replace what a horrible daughter I was burdened with.” She spats and you don’t know why that hit much worse than any insult she’s thrown at you. “Really tears you think I'll pity you?” You are shaking like a leaf, tears pour down your face and you desperately wipe it away.

“You know what...I think you haven’t learned,” She says and you can sense the malice in her tone. A shiver of fear of what she is capable of. She moves out of the living room and you see her open a drawer pulling out something, “I know something that’ll make you understand.”

You see the small box with a faded label, though it’s not something you recognize when she opens it a cold rush of water runs through you when you spot the tiny sticks. You sprint trying to get to the door when a hand snatches at your hair ripping you back. A scream rips from your throat but you are slammed against the corner of the wall and your vision goes dark.

Instant pain rushes through you and a scream tears through your throat though muffled by a rag stuffed in your mouth. The sound of the stick being pressed against your flesh and the sizzling sound and smell of burnt flesh as you thrash in what you notice as restraints. Another scream rips through you trying to arch away from the stick being pressed and held for a few seconds onto your stomach. Tears blur your vision and you're hyperventilating unable to catch your breath.

“Stop squirming!” Your mother hisses. Above you see your father sending you a sickening smile and you almost hurl seeing him palms his crotch over his jeans.

“Do you think when you’re done I can get a moment with her,” Your father says and you cry when he strokes your hair, “Call it father/daughter bonding time.”

“I don’t give a fuck she isn’t yours.” Your mother hisses and your eyes widen at the confession. She notices your reaction and smiles, “What you really thought he’s your father? God, you really are an idiot for believing that.” You thrash in your restraints another scream rips from you as the stick is pressed down against this time for up to ten seconds and you’re sure your vision went white. Your vision returns and you are gasping for air between sobs. A harsh knocks come from the door and your mother pauses and goes open the door, you use the chance to take in your surroundings. It looks like a basement with one window high on the wall that looks like the outside but low on the ground.

“The others are ready when you are.” Someone says before they speak again, “What are you going to do with her?”

“Just prepping her for tonight,” Your mother says and you’re confused about what she means by that. She reenters your field of vision, “You know I was surprised when they described the ‘wild woman from the cabin’ I had to know who they were.” Your eyes widen dramatically at that name. Only the Raiders knew of that title but—

“Understanding it now? You know when they got the jump on you that winter storm until Joel and Tommy showed up. I mean you did kill Derek’s brother and I was going to finish you off but then I realized who you were and decided on an even better idea.” She says with a wicked grin and you look at the now dangerous look of the man you thought was your father or Derek gives you, “Let you get comfortable then find a reason to allow us inside Jackson and learn everything we need to know about it. I didn’t think Tommy would let a group of strangers in but you just so happen to have Lila and all it took was one word from you and we were in.”

You thrash in your restraints snarling and she presses another stick to your flesh releasing another scream, “So now we’re going to kill everyone and then kill you.” She says before stepping back.

“I wanna thank you. The only time you’ve done some good for me daughter,” She says reaching under the table and producing a pistol cocking it back, and also grabbing a shotgun and tossing it over at Derek. “I’ll be sure to send Joel your regards before he dies. I’m sure he’d like to know his daughter in his final moments.” You freeze at the bomb just dropped. Joel…Joel Miller the man who you’ve been at odds with since the beginning was your father. It was an overload of information as every interaction, every conversation, everything was with your father… Why didn’t you notice the similarity? Did the others notice it?

‘You know she kinda reminds me of you. Not sure if that’s a good thing, you are a pain in my ass.’ You remember Tommy saying that to Joel but none of you took it seriously.

“Get comfortable Y/n,” Your mother says as they head to the door, “Get your final thoughts in order before we come back.” The room is bathed in darkness as the door slams closed. You had to get out here and warn everyone. You need to save Maria, Tommy, and Liam, protect Ellie, you had to keep Lila alive from your horrible mother, you need to warn Joel…your father.

Where the Wild Things Are Tags

@afictionaladventure16 @amy172 @amyispxnk @ashisabitgay @batgurl42 @bobbypickl3 @christinamadsen @clovergray @cozyphine @daemontargaryenwhore @darthrue @daughterofthequeen @ellistyle @enamoredofbella @endo-bunny @enfppixie @enfppuff @feenoire @feralkidz @fictional-character-whore @frootloops1213 @gods-menace @gundham11037 @ilovehotdadsandshit @ioonatv @jmillersgirl @kaiwai @kitdjarin1 @lainekyuu @legoemma @lemonlaides @lorenaloveslewis @love-giselle @lovelyygirl8 @lunawants @maelartasch @marvelandhamilton @melonmochi @minaridior @mmkkzz @n7cje @oscarissac2099 @pandorascosmic @phoenixgurl030 @poetoflawed @queenofthekill @randomhoex @rannifer @rhaenyramistress @scoliobean @screechingsandwichtriumph @severussimp @sevikasleftarm @shotgun-shelby @stargurl99 @stickthegremlin @strangesthirdeye @supernerdycookietrashblrr @theclassicvinyldragon @theredvelvetbitch @todoroki-simp @tracysnook @viviio3o @wife-to-pedro-pascal @your-shifting-gurl

If your name is crossed out tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason. Sorry :(

[withahappyrefrain]

First off, this was beautiful. The relationship between Bradley and Smart Aleck is so amazing but also so realistic. Like their conversations are similar to ones I've had with my own husband. The chemistry is off the charts and I simply cannot get enough of them.

Also them being domestic?!?! Getting ready for a vacation?!?! My heart my heart!!

And now for my ramblings below:

But honestly it's so realistic that he fell asleep I don't blame him

Home - where he could finally wake up next to you and have you be right here - not an ocean apart. Bradley already dreaded the next time he’d have to leave you. 

IM ALREADY CRYING 😭

But later? He’d slap your pussy so hard you’d be begging for his cock in no time - in fact, maybe he should time you? See how long it took you to break, to babble, to beg. 

SIRRRRRR THE SWITCH??? from needing to cuddle her to THIS? Deceased.

“But I woke up beside you, so I can’t be too angry.” You leaned in to kiss him. “It’d be impossible to be angry now, actually.” 

I love them so much they're too cute your honor 😭😭😭

That tattoo gets me Everytime my heart breaks every time

He groaned. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend who said stuff like that. It was like something out of a wet dream. “You seriously only took your fingers the entire time I was gone?” You nodded. “Good girl.”

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Him making her an audiobook I'm dead. Not just because that's hot as hell, but also the fact he wants to do research into the dynamic and make it right/good for her????? Like???! Bradley Bradshaw, the man that you are!!!

God, he would love missionary for how close it lets him be. A romantic at heart! I love him. Also love how he's obsessed with her tits like yes girl, get it!

This fic is making me feel much better about gaining some weight, thank you for your service

She's dimming the light?! Baby girl he loves you, he loves your body!!! 😭😭 I feel for her, I feel her so hard. Also I really love that you gave her a struggle that so many of us have gone through. Like your insecurities don't just magically vanish when you're in a loving relationship, it takes time and work and I know Smart Aleck will get there!

Stop shaking the thought away Bradley! God, he's so close, so freaking close to figuring it out!!! And in a way I like that it takes him time because that's realistic but I still want to shake them both

Her not knowing what to wear 😭😭 God this is hitting me so hard. And Bradley is just trying to be supportive!! Honestly surprised I haven't cried yet because I feel her so much

You've also convinced me that yes, Maverick is Bradley's dad. I love that smart Aleck has a relationship with him as well!

Bradley's right, if I met a 30 year old man who went by Teddy, it would be an immediate red flag. Also the way he's so protective of her and Amelia?! My heart can't take much more Jordan 😭😭

THE PHONE SEX?!?!?! JORDAN ELIZABETH (idk your middle name, I'm just inserting one bc holy shit that was hot and entirely too short God, do they need a third??? Asking for a friend).

“Yeah?” Granted, if you kept rutting against each other like this, he’d probably cum in his shorts - there really wasn’t a lot of substance to the running shorts he was wearing - but god. He needed to sink inside you. 

THE WAY HE IS SO DESPERATE AND NEEDY FOR HER JORDAN I AM FERAL. FERAL!

Good. Then he wasn’t going to apologize for what he was about to do. Because Bradley had to fuck you, he had to be inside you right now. Something about you and being off and those tights and that dress and his run and the subsequent endorphin rush. 

OH MY GOD ITS THIS SCENE THE ONE YOU TALKED ABOUT

Idly, he recalled the jibe he had ignored from Hangman the other day regarding his leave: not all of us have rich girlfriends to take us on two week vacations.

Jake, that sounds like a personal problem my dude.

Hi, can I personally slap her mom?? Smart Aleck, Bradley loves your curves!! 😭😭I need the next part, I need Bradley to remind her she is more than her body, that he loves her no matter what size she is!!

rocketman: part iii - Some things Cosmic

Summary: finally back home, bradley can focus on all the things he's missed while he's been gone. there's someone there to properly welcome him home, frantic reunion sex, prepping for an amazing vacation, family dinners, and the casual intimacy he's come to love between the two of you. but there's still something up with you and he can't quite figure it out. it'll be fine, right? catch up with [part 1] and [part 2]

OR sex, s'mores, and secrets

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 18.5k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, body insecurity, suggestive dialogue, suggestive content, and sexual content (oral (f + m receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v, dom/sub influence, and praise, rank, and degradation kink). also on ao3!

i want to be naked, i don’t mean my body, i don’t need my body i’m floating away

Bradley startled awake sometime later. It happened sometimes. He had these dreams were it felt like he was falling. Out of his plane, out of the sky, out of your arms. Falling and falling - with no end in sight. 

That wasn’t to say that they were necessarily nightmares or anything. (Because the distinction between the two was glaringly obvious.) 

They just unnerved him a bit. Left him unsettled, untethered. 

He rolled over and stretched his arm out across the bed, until his fingers brushed against something silky. Something warm and silky. He turned his head to find you sprawled out next to him.

You had changed between now and when Bradley had last seen you - he glanced at the clock on his nightstand - seven hours ago. 

Fuck. 

He had fallen asleep before you had even gotten upstairs. 

Goddammit, he felt like an asshole. He rubbed his hands over his face, sighing. This was the last thing he had wanted to happen, especially after what you two talked about earlier that evening. 

You’d give us your wild? Of course. Of course, of course, of course he would. 

Like you knew he was thinking about you, you shifted your hips, inching closer towards him. Your body was only half under the thick duvet cover and top sheet, so even in the early morning light he could still see the navy nightie you were wearing. 

Bradley liked to think that you had stowed it away someplace and changed downstairs in order to surprise him in bed. Except now he’d never know because he had fallen asleep on you. God, he was the worst boyfriend. 

Tonight, the night three months in the making, he had missed cuddling and kissing and all the best parts of getting cozy in bed with you because he had fallen asleep before you had even gotten upstairs. And sure, he had gotten a taste of what was to come on the couch while you laid underneath him and drew imaginary shapes across his chest with your finger and he held you tight and counted your heartbeats. 

But this was supposed to have been a big deal. It was the first time you both went to bed in the same room without the fear that you’d be leaving in the morning or later in the week to go back to your highrise. You were both home. Really, truly home. 

Home - where he could finally wake up next to you and have you be right here - not an ocean apart. Bradley already dreaded the next time he’d have to leave you. 

There was a future with you. There was that little boy - or little girl - from your dream. The perfect mix of you and Bradley. 

(Don’t ever be a Rocket Man. I mean it. 

When you’re out there you want to be here, and when you’re here you want to be out there. 

Promise me you won’t be like me.)

Suddenly, there was this overwhelming urge inside him that if he didn’t touch you and have you in his arms, that he’d slip away, back to space. Untethered. 

You kept him on the ground. You kept him safe. 

Bradley scooted over towards your side of the bed and wrapped his arms around you, unable to bear another moment untethered. There, that was better. You were soft and warm and felt so precious in his arms. And with your nightie rucked up around your hips and one leg extended out and the other hiked up, your body was on full display. 

Easy access.

Your thighs were so fucking soft and curvy and he desperately wanted to slot himself right between them. Have them bracket his head, while his tongue lapped at your pretty pussy. 

Would he start there? Eat you out until you were begging for his cock? Have you grind on his lap…until you were begging for his cock? Or…just generally begging for his cock? 

They all seemed appealing, but admittedly kissing you until you were breathless and then rocking his body above yours until you were both tumbling over the edge had plenty of merit, too. Bradley wanted to treat you like you were precious first. 

But later? He’d slap your pussy so hard you’d be begging for his cock in no time - in fact, maybe he should time you? See how long it took you to break, to babble, to beg. 

But that brought him back to the present. Could he wake you up, now? Bradley knew you’d been stressed and busy ever since your mom had come to town and because of all you’d confessed earlier; so, would it be fair to wake you? You hadn’t woken him up, afterall.

After an indeterminate amount of time of just holding you and watching you breathe, you rolled your bare ass against Bradley’s crotch and let out a pleased hum. He gave your hip a squeeze and you burrowed even deeper in his arms. Your skin was softer than the silk nightie you were wearing and he could feel the heat pouring off your body.

He slipped his hand down to knead your ass and you sighed. “Hmm, da-dley? Bubba?”

“Hey, kid.” He kissed your neck. 

Once you were a little more lucid and opened your eyes, you pulled your nightie down to cover your ass, though that didn’t stop Bradley from playing with the lace hem. 

You rolled over so you were now face to face and wrapped your right leg around his left. 

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

You cupped his cheek. “Wanted you to sleep, you looked so tired. Pretty too.” 

It was dark in the room at five thirty-eight, but not completely pitch black, so Bradley could still make out your soft features. You had somehow gotten even more beautiful in the three months he had been gone. It wasn’t obvious, not at first, and not to anyone who wasn’t really paying attention. 

But it was obvious to Bradley because Bradley always paid attention.

“Well,” he kissed your forehead then your nose, “I’m still sorry, especially after what we talked about earlier, should’ve stayed up for you.” 

“But I woke up beside you, so I can’t be too angry.” You leaned in to kiss him. “It’d be impossible to be angry now, actually.” 

He hitched your right leg higher over his hip and groaned when he could feel your core through his joggers. You squirmed against him, cheeky little thing. But with his joggers and t-shirt still on, Bradley was definitely overheated and the sweat was building at the back of his neck, to say nothing about the heat your body was giving off. 

As if reading his mind, you grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and slowly dragged your fingers up his stomach, stopping at both his happy trail and then the patch of hair in the middle of his chest, before taking the t-shirt off completely. A soft thud rang out when you’d thrown it across the room and it presumably landed on the floor. 

“You gonna take these off, too?” He slipped a finger under the waistband of his joggers. 

“Been dying to all night - hips up, Bradshaw.” 

Bradley arched his back and helped you slide his joggers down his legs, taking his boxer briefs with them. Your gaze lingered on his body for a long moment, but you just gave him a coy little smile. 

“Fuck,” he sighed in relief, “How’d you let me sleep in those?” 

“How’d you fall asleep on me?”

“You got me drunk!” 

“Not my fault you’re suddenly a lightweight - Bradley!” 

He pinched your side and you wiggled away from him with a shriek. “Uh uh, not so fast.” 

Bradley pulled you close again, desperate to be nearer to you. You tangled your legs together and pointed your torso towards his, but remained perched on your elbow, while he was laying down flat.  

Suddenly somber, your eyes were drawn back to his body and he just let you look - drink him in and see what you had missed over the last few months. Every new freckle, scar, bruise, age line. 

Bradley couldn’t wait to do the same. What had he missed? What was different?

He could feel your eyes lingering on his abs. Normally, you remarked on his thighs and shoulders, but tonight it seemed you had a different focus. You appeared hesitant, biting your lip, as you dragged your finger across his stomach. 

Did you like how he looked - how he had changed in your time apart?

“You’re so handsome,” you whispered, almost to yourself. 

Bradley kissed you and returned the compliment. “And you’ve gotten even more beautiful since I’ve been gone.” 

You appeared bashful at the comment, which just let Bradley know he’d have to give you more of them over the next few weeks. “Come ‘ere.” Without waiting for a response, Bradley started pressing kisses all over your face, your cheeks, your neck, your lips. If it was possible at this point, he drew your body even closer.

“Bra-adley! We have an entire bed here, you know?” You giggled when he rubbed his nose into your neck.

“Mmmm, but it’s nice and warm here.”

You scooched down on the bed on your stomach so you were looking up at him. With a smile, you began to press languid kisses across his chest, starting just above his belly-button and creeping up to his pecs, heart, and shoulders. You loved his shoulders, you always managed to notch your head there during sex and press little kisses to the scars dotting them and his neck. Bites, too - marks to prove he was yours.

But tonight, it seemed you had a different path in mind and, while you still nipped at his shoulder, you didn’t stop there and instead went straight to the small tattoo on his bicep. You traced your fingers across the roman numerals:

x x x i x

Thirty-nine. 

As in thirty-nine years old. An age neither of his parents ever got to see. 

Bradley had gotten the tattoo when he was in flight school and a bit of a shit with self destructive tendencies. People never really asked what it meant and he never really wanted to tell anyone. 

He’d told Ezra, right around the time when they first started talking about moving in together, before that spectacularly failed. He also told Nat. However, the latter was only because he was drunk and pissed and he had just made lieutenant, once again surpassing his father in something.

Maverick had seen it about a year ago. He had never asked Bradley what it meant and probably never wanted to have it confirmed what it meant. But to anyone who really knew Bradley, it was easy to put together.

Bradley had told you about it on your fourth date. 

It was the second time you’d slept together. Because while your first time had been frantic and had taken you both by surprise (you, in particular, were freaked out that you’d slept with someone on the first date without a condom), the second time was much slower - softer. 

You had planned the date this time. Bradley had picked you up at your apartment - he even had come upstairs to get you - with flowers - and the two of you had dinner at Callie, followed by a performance at the San Diego Symphony. It was actually thanks to one of Bradley’s fun facts about playing the piano that you had gotten the idea. 

Both of you had gotten dressed up (a big departure from your third date hike in Torrey Pines), the food and drinks had been plentiful and delicious, and listening to Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G Major and Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 was made all the more romantic by the way Bradley held your hand for the entire first piece and had his hand on your thigh for the entire second.

So, after eating you out on your kitchen counter and going two rounds in bed, Bradley had told you what the tattoo meant and about his parents and Maverick and you had told him about your mom and your accident during your junior year of high school. 

And if you had asked Bradley, it was after that date that he knew he was going to fall in love with you. 

It hadn’t felt scary to tell you any of it. It felt right and natural. Like you wouldn’t judge him or get scared when things got hard. Like he wanted to protect you at all costs. 

And because he had told you what the tattoo meant, it made the moments since when you’d really focus and hone in on it all the more sweeter. During this last deployment, Bradley had often felt like the ink was burning into his skin under his flight-suit. It kept reminding him that he had once thought he had a timeline or a stopwatch on his bicep, slowly ticking down. But with you, it was something to strive towards, to reach beyond and be there for LIX, LXXXIX, and even XCIX. 

“What’s it like flying at night?” Your question snapped him out of his thoughts and you pressed another kiss to his tattoo to calm him. “I kept thinking about it on my flight to London. And how you must see this all the time, is it still a big deal? Can you even stop and think about it? Just endless night with thousands of stars to guide you? Being in the middle of the ocean, nothing around for hundreds of miles.”

(What’s it like, out in space?

It’s the best thing in a lifetime of best things - oh, it’s really nothing at all. 

But you always go back.)

“You’d never thought about it before?” his voice came out thick, hoarse. 

You shrugged a shoulder. “Not in that way, I guess? I couldn’t sleep on the way to London, so I pulled up the shade in the middle of the night. I’ve never really thought to do it before, don’t know why - but then I saw all those stars, endless stars, thousands of them. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Your finger stopped tracing patterns on his arm for a moment before it started again. “And I though to myself this is what Bradley sees. This is why he loves it and for that brief blip in time I got it. I understood. Makes me love you even more in some way.” 

Bradley felt like he was going to cry, the feeling swept over him so suddenly. “I uhh - fuck.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” you sounded contrite, “I just wanted you to know.”

Could he tell you? Could he tell you that flying at night with all the stars in the sky simultaneously made him feel closer to and yet farther away from his parents? It was like they were right there, but also so far out of reach. But he didn’t say any of that. He couldn’t say any of that, not now. The words couldn’t come.

Instead, he pulled you closer, putting your face at level with his own. “I love you.”

You smiled and he could’ve sworn there were tears in your eyes, but it was hard to make out in the darkness. “I love you, too. Now please kiss me.”

Bradley let out a chuckle, but leaned in to kiss you without another word. The kiss was sweet, but still had an underlying desperation attached to it that came with being away for months. But unlike every other kiss you’d shared since Bradley had gotten home, there was no need to stop or to prevent it from going further. No, now you were his. He could have you however he wanted.

Not breaking the kiss, you shifted and bracketed your thighs on either side of his hips, allowing him to slide his hands up your body. He’d never get tired of thinking it, but god, you were so fucking soft. Your hips, your thighs, your breasts, your hands, your lips - actually…

His next words were grunted against your neck. “Your lips are really soft - softer than normal,” he finished when you went to interrupt him. 

“Must be my lip mask. I put it on after I saw that you fell asleep on me…”

“Hey, hey,” he tickled your sides and you collapsed on his chest amidst your giggles, “I said you should’ve woken me up!”

“Would you have woken me up?” You had him there. “See? This way I could stare at you uninterrupted and get all moony over you. Plus, now isn’t this better? No more sleepy bubs.”

No. He was definitely awake now. And from where your core was laid on his bare stomach, he could already feel how wet your were and couldn’t wait to slip inside you. 

“‘Could kiss you for hours,” you said against his lips. You kissed him - once, twice, ten times, smiling all the while. He never wanted you to stop. “Bradley,” you whined, “Need you inside me. Gotta get used to you again. ‘m so tight.” You nipped his earlobe. 

He groaned. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend who said stuff like that. It was like something out of a wet dream. “You seriously only took your fingers the entire time I was gone?” You nodded. “Good girl.”

You preened under the praise. Because it surely had to have been a bit of a challenge. “Yours are so much bigger, though.” Bradley rolled his eyes at your cheeky tone. “What’re you gonna think up for me to do next time you’re gone? Like what you talked about earlier?” You didn’t linger too much on the next time part of your question, so he didn’t either.

“Hmmm. What about tasks?”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Well, I’d have to do more research, but like you have to wear xyz or send me a picture of you doing something? Whatever we want.”

You nuzzled his neck. “Mmmmm, I like that. Wish we could really talk when you’re gone, though. I’m not sure I could handle every comms officer hearing what I need from you again…”

An idea suddenly struck Bradley. It was amazing he hadn’t thought of it before. “Maybe I can make you an audiobook?”

Your jaw dropped and you contorted your body to look up at him. “You’d do that? Seriously?”

His cheeks colored. “I mean, not like an actual one, but like a voice memo or something?” The idea didn’t sound nearly as good out loud as it did in his head. “If you wanted…”

“Oh my god, yes! I very much do want.”

Without another word, Bradley rolled you both over so now he was on top, knees bracketing your hips so as to not put his full weight on you. Your nightie was still covering your stomach and breasts, but that didn’t stop him from snaking his hands underneath the navy silk to play with them. They felt fuller than normal - not that he was complaining, but he hadn’t noticed earlier and now -

His cock brushed against your stomach in a way that had you bucking up against him, so desperate, so keen, so fucking good. Good girl. Your lips were eager against his as you poured every thought, every email, every Facetime call into your kiss. 

God, it had been so long. Fooling around on the couch earlier in the evening paled in comparison to how plump your lips felt and how keenly your body reacted to his. Because you felt so good. Months, weeks, days had passed and Bradley had never felt anything as good as your body beneath his. 

You sighed and squirmed up the bed so your head was laid across the pillows, all the while Bradley made his way down the bed. 

“More, bubs, please.” 

How could he refuse, especially when you had asked so nicely? He bent forward to give you a sloppy kiss on the lips before working his way down your body, from your neck and collarbones, to your breasts through your nightie, and finally to right below your belly-button. From there, you readily allowed him to bend your knees so your feet were planted firmly on the bed and your core was completely exposed to him. 

Even in the early morning light it was exquisite. You had the prettiest pussy Bradley had ever seen - and it was his, all his.

“Fucking gorgeous.” 

You startled at the first touch of his lips on your thighs, but let out the prettiest little sigh when he sucked on the skin by your birthmark. There was another as he licked along one of your lightning lines. And another as he kissed the hood of your clit. 

God, you smelled so fucking good and were groomed just the way he liked it -  like the perfect, obedient, good girl that you were. And perfect, obedient, good girls got their pussy played with until they were babbling like dumb little sluts.

“- Would have thought this would be your first stop?”

Bradley chuckled, but didn’t stop dragging his fingers across your inner thighs and lower lips. “Yeah? What, d’you think I’d do? Just dive right in? Take you on the kitchen table?”

“I would’ve let you.”

Once the words had sunk in, he stopped teasing you. His elbows gave out beneath him and he groaned with his face pressed against the sheets. Fuck. That was a conversation for another time, but just the thought of you letting Bradley basically use you had him grinding his hips into the mattress.

You were so good. 

He popped his head back up and slapped you - lightly - across your pussy. “You keep saying shit like that and next time I just might.”

In response, you arched your back and tried to close your legs around his head, but Bradley just tutted and spread them further.

“Uh-uh, need to have a look at her, I've gone three months without her.” Your hips jumped off the mattress as his fingers started playing with you, tracing circles over and dipping in and out of your cunt. “‘pretty pussy. She took such good care of you while I was gone, didn’t she? Look at you dripping for me, huh?”

His fingers scissored inside of you, dragging against your walls, while his thumb needled your clit. Your wetness spread across his fingers and he, in turn, spread it across your folds and inner thighs. He liked when you were messy. He liked to feel you all over his face.

“Bradley,” you whined. “Stop teasing.”

Neither of you really wanted that, so it didn’t even merit a response from him. Instead, he kept sliding his fingers inside you in and out, in and out and crooked them ever so slightly before he added a third. Above him, you gasped and jolted. 

“‘Atta girl, arch your back, just like that.” You whimpered at his praise and kept rocking your hips in tandem with his fingers. Fucking glorious, such a good girl for da -

“- Bradley…” He peered up to see that you had one arm over your eyes, while the other was pawing at your breasts through your nightie.

“God, you’re sucking on my fingers so tight, I would believe you’ve taken anything up this pretty pussy in months.”

“‘Want your mouth, please, please…” 

“Where?” his voice was muffled. Bradley sucked his lips around your thigh, right by your labia, but refrained from kissing you were you wanted him most. He wanted to mark you up everywhere, have your thighs and breasts and neck covered in little bites and bruises. 

Mine. Mine. Mine. 

Good. Good. Good. 

You whined. It sounded pathetic and he had barely even started. “My pussy. Please, Bradley? Please?”

Who was he to deny you? Because, god, you tasted so fucking good. It was hard not to absolutely devour you, especially after going for so long without you. Bradley slid his hands down from your hips to grab your ass and rut your cunt deeper against his face. As a reward, he got a slew of pretty little whimpers out of you.

He continued at a steady pace, alternating between probing your clit and slipping his tongue inside you. Above him, you arched your back and he pressed a firm hand on your stomach to keep you down. 

“Bradley,” you cried as you rode his face. 

God, you sounded so pretty now, he couldn’t wait to get you on his cock later. 

Pretty girl. 

Smart girl. 

Good girl. 

His girl with a body like Aphrodite. 

“Ahhh - fuc - ahhh.” You made that sound and he knew, without even looking up, that your head was tipped back in pleasure and you were close. “Bubs,” your voice came out small, “want you - inside me, now.”

“Uh-uh.” Bradley pulled his head back, but continued fingering you. “You need to come first.” 

Come on his face. 

You shook your head frantically against the pillow. “No.” You gasped when he purposely plunged his fingers deeper. “‘wanna with you - ahh inside me.”

Somehow you grabbed the hand he had pressed on your stomach and you dragged it up your body. His knuckles brushed against the silk of your nightie until you eventually pressed sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your interlocked fingers. And all Bradley could do was say your name in censure, which ultimately came out heavy with need.

“Please? Want it to be together our first time back.” You whined pitifully. “Haven’t touched myself in days.”

All you had to do was pout and he was gone. 

“Fine,” he smacked your thigh, “but I’m gonna make you come again after I finish inside you.”

“Yes, yes, anything, Bradley.”

You would be spent and whiny by then, it wouldn’t be hard. 

After swirling his fingers once more around in your cum, Bradley held his fingers up to your mouth for you to clean them off. “That good?” You hummed around the digits before he retracted them and tapped your cheek twice. “Atta girl.”

Next, he shifted up on the bed so his knees were straddling your waist. He was achingly hard at this point and bit back a smile as you made grabby hands for his cock. It pulsed in your grasp and you swiped your thumb over the slit to rub his pre-cum over the head. Fuck, that felt divine. While you may have relished how much larger his fingers were than yours, Bradley loved how large his cock looked in your smaller hands. However, he’d already let your tender touches go on long enough - another minute and he’d come all over that silk nightie you hadn’t taken off yet.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” Your eyes were wide and you nodded. 

Trusting, needy, desperate. Such a perfect girl for him. 

“Wanna be full.”

He brushed the head of his cock against your pussy lips, making sure it was nice and wet and, god, you were fucking soaked and practically sucked him in. You whimpered and muttered something indistinguishable, but wrapped your arms around his shoulders and canted your hips up for more. Then, once Bradley slipped just the tip of his cock inside you, you gasped, but brought him closer. Your nails dug into his shoulders, hopefully pressing little crescents into the skin. He pulled back and slid in again, inch by inch, earning a breathy gasp from you every time. 

Holyfuckingshit. You were so tight. So fucking tight, even after prepping you with his tongue and fingers. 

Yours are so much bigger, though your voice echoed through his head. 

You were so fucking soft and warm and wet and felt perfect around him. With each thrust he’d grunt out your name and you in turn would give a whiny Bradley and eventually wrapped your legs around his hips. And then you were also clenching down on him like you’d spent the entire three months doing kegel exercises. 

“Fuck, you made me so hard - thinking about how much of a good girl you were while I was away, keeping this nice and tight for me,” he barely got the words out. 

“‘do anything for - for you. ‘d let you do anything to - mmhmm - me,” you finished with a whimper. 

Fuck. Your unwavering trust in Bradley always took him aback. Because you meant it. You really would let him do anything to you. If you had the slightest inclination that it would please him, you would do it. He had never had someone who trusted him that much. And that wasn’t something he took lightly. 

With that thought in mind, he snapped his hips against yours in a particularly hard thrust that had you crying out. 

“Mmm harder.”

He bent down to suck on your neck. This - the closeness - was why he liked missionary so much. It was perfect for this exact moment. There was plenty of time to take you hard and fast later.

“Oh, god. Feel so full - Bradley, Bra - Bradley!” With every utterance of his name, he drove deeper inside you. Harder inside you. You’d ride him next time, he’d make sure of it. But for now, breathing each other’s air, gasping against each other’s mouth, and feeling the sweat on each other’s brow, being so impossibly close to each other, it was hard to say where Bradley’s soul ended and yours started. 

Yours and mine are the same. 

He groaned your name and you opened your eyes to gaze up at him with an almost dazed expression. Grabbing the back of your knee, Bradley went in at a different angle, trying to get deeper. “Feel how much your little hole’s dripping? Just needed me to stretch you out again.”

“Mmmmm yes, yes, da-dley - ahhhh,” you cried out, “can I come? Please, please?”

Oh, you were such a good girl for him. Asking so nicely, so prettily. So properly. Thank god he had prepped you, he wasn’t going to last much longer, himself. It was kind of pathetic. Both of you were, to be frank. Obviously, you more than him in this instance, but -

“‘Course. There you go, sweetheart, come on my cock like a good girl.”

When you finally came a few moments later, it was with a strangled cry of his name that Bradley swore was the most beautiful sound he’d heard in months. As the shudder of pleasure swept over you and you tightened your core around him, Bradley hastened to find his own release. The slew of cries and whimpers against his lips as you tried to settle down only spurred him on further. He drove into you again and again and again. 

He had to get there with you - had to. You clung to him and notched your head by his neck, only to graze your lips along the tender skin there and bite. 

“Fuck,” he grunted. “‘You ready for me to come inside you, sweetheart? Know how much you missed it.”

You nodded against his neck. “Yes,” you whispered, “Bradley, please…”

He groaned your name. It sounded so good like that, so perfect. He had to say it again and again and again. With each stroke, your overstimulated pussy fluttered around him, pulling him towards his own orgasm. His jaw clenched and his back muscles tightened and Bradley could barely support his own weight over you for another moment - 

“‘s good, bubs, feel so full.”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was it. That did it. 

With a final moan of your name, Bradley came inside you, painting your pussy with his cum. His cocked twitched one final time as the last streams of cum filled you up. He notched his head against your shoulder and he breathed in your sweet scent. 

Goddamn. 

Once he settled down and caught his breath sometime later, he moved to pull out, knowing that when he did so, both your cum would drip down your thighs. Your gorgeous, thick thighs. He already needed to get lost in them again. And wasn’t that just the thing? Bradley was obsessed with you. He could never get enough of you.

“No, no, not yet,” you whimpered. 

He stopped and pulled you closer, but slightly changed your position. There was some perverse part of him that wanted to make a comment about keeping you on his cock for the rest of the morning so you could get used to him again, but he refrained after thinking about the tone of your voice. You sounded so fucking good and docile and submissive. Such a good girl. 

“Pretty sure you owe me another one…” You burrowed your head against his neck and moaned when he shifted. “How ‘bout I stay inside you? ‘That okay?” You nodded and your pussy tightened against him. “Good girl.”

Keeping you close, Bradley slid one hand in between your bodies to play with your throbbing clit. You arched your back up towards him, trying in vain to get closer, though that was nigh impossible - the two of you were already as close as two people could be. 

Yours and mine are the same.

He needled your clit between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth, trying to get some moans and whines out of you. God, your body felt unreal. Still so warm around him, still so wet for him. All for him. 

Mine, mine, mine. 

As your body shifted, your pebbled nipples brushed against his bare chest and Bradley was remiss for not playing more attention to them earlier. But that could’ve been because you were still wearing that goddamn nightie. You were flustered and warm and your skin was glistening with the slightest sheen of sweat. 

He bent his head down and mouthed at your breasts through the midnight blue silk. They were already hardened to peaks, desperate to be suckled on, especially after noting their new size. There would be time for that later, he had to remind himself. 

For now, he nipped at the top of your cleavage and kept playing with your clit. You were so oversensitive, you were practically shaking in his arms. And in response, you raked your hands through Bradley’s hair, pulling on the strands. Fuck him. That felt divine, especially as he felt you tighten around him. 

“Brad-ley,” you whimpered, “’s too much.”

“Shhh, easy, easy, there’s no rush.” He tipped your chin up. “You want me to stop?” You shook your head. “Take a deep breath. That's it. Good girl.”

Little whimpers kept escaping your mouth, but you burrowed your face against his neck and trusted him to take care of you. You nipped at the skin there and he hoped it would leave a mark; let everyone know that he was yours and only yours for the next few weeks. 

Mine, mine, mine.

“I’ve got to take care of you, you were such a good girl while I was gone. My best girl, huh?”

“Mmmm.”

“So beautiful, so smart. Took such good care of things for me, huh?” He could feel as well as hear your breath hitching, letting him know that you were close. “‘gorgeous girl, so proud of you, sweet g -”

And that did it. 

So proud of you.

You came with a cry and your walls fluttered around his cock once again. A sudden gush of wetness coated both yours and Bradley’s thighs. God, it was beautiful. You were beautiful. Your name kept running through his mind and Bradley realized he was actually muttering it against your lips through kisses. There were tears in your eyes and he thumbed them away before they could slide down your beautiful face.

“Hey, too much?” He kissed your cheeks, which unfortunately only made more tears spring from your eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, right?” 

“No, no,” you shook your head, “I just missed you so much, think I’m overwhelmed,” you finished sheepishly. 

The tension in Bradley’s shoulders eased and he smiled down at you. “Now you’re gonna make me cry, kid.”

“I love you.” The words came out quietly, but it was like they’d only just come out of your mouth before Bradley was saying them back. 

“Love you, too.” The smile he got out of you warmed his heart and he pecked your lips before tucking your head under his chin.

The two of you laid there for some time with Bradley still inside you. In fact, he was pretty certain you may have dozed off at one point, but he didn’t want you to be too uncomfortable when you woke up later. With that in mind, he slowly pulled out and settled you on the bed beside him. You fussed a little, but Bradley kissed your forehead, heading it off. 

He started with your name, “I’ll be right back, okay? Going to the bathroom.” You nodded at him, your eyes wide and trusting. 

It was chilly out of bed, away from you, and Bradley only paused for a brief moment to slip on a pair of his sleep shorts from the dresser, before heading off to the bathroom to get a damp towel for you. He hastened back to the bedroom, now almost fully lit in the early morning light. You made such a pretty picture all tucked under the thick, white duvet. 

“Bradley?” You stretched out underneath the covers and let out a little whimper. “‘m sore.”

“Shit, sorry,” he said with your special nickname tacked on the end. “Come ‘ere.” Despite his words, he came to you and dutifully cleaned you up with the warm cloth. 

“‘s not your fault,” you slurred, “need to get used to it again. Missed you.”

The cloth passed over your thighs once, twice, three times, before Bradley brushed it against your core once, twice, three times. You sighed and gave him a lazy smile, which he easily returned. 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee. “Be right back,” he whispered. 

You’d barely managed to get back under the covers by the time he came back from the bathroom. And then, with all the care and love you deserved at the moment, he bundled you up in his arms. You were so warm and smelled so pretty and your nightie felt so soft against his rough fingers. Everything about that moment was perfect. You were so precious. You pressed your cheek against his chest and he hoped you could tell how fast his heart was beating. 

“I missed being with you like this, missed holding you.”

You pressed lazy kisses to his chest for a moment before you eventually tipped your head up to meet his eyes. “Can we stay like this? Just for a while? Don’t wanna get up yet.”

“‘Course,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “go back to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

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

When Bradley woke hours later, he did so slowly. He was pleasantly warm, he was finally sleeping on a true mattress, and you were slotted between his legs sucking his cock. 

Surely, there were few better ways to wake up than to have your sweet lips wrapped around him. It wasn’t something you did often, at least in terms of waking Bradley up this way, but he loved whenever you took the initiative. It showed how eager you were - how desperate. Really, the only thing that could top it would be your pussy sunk deep on his cock as you rode him.

You had to have been at it for a while, for he was achingly hard by this point. His hips bucked up, thrusting his cock deeper into your mouth and you let out a surprised moan, no doubt having thought he was still sleeping, before taking him further. Your tight grip on his thighs left him relatively grounded, else he would have set off a round of those gagging noises from you that he liked so much. That wet mouth that he liked so much - fuck. 

Bradley groaned your name. You peered up at him with those wide, innocent eyes like you weren’t getting him off while he slept. Like your pussy wasn’t soaking. Like you hadn’t been grinding it against his bare thigh for the last however many minutes. 

And you kept at it with Bradley’s hand grabbing your hair and guiding you. You kept working him, forcing him deeper down your throat. He moaned and you responded back in kind. Such a good mouth, such a good girl, taking care of him like this. It took him a moment to realize he was doing it, but he was mumbling your name, almost nonsensically. 

But then he felt, rather than saw, you remove one of your hands from his thighs to presumably put it between your legs to play with your needy pussy. And that just wouldn’t do.

“Fuck. Get up here,” he said and then punctuated it with a growl of your name when you stayed down. The whimper you let out had him bucking his hips up off the mattress. “I’m serious.”

Almost begrudgingly, you eased him out of your mouth and the resulting, wet pop echoed throughout the bedroom. You looked far too pleased with yourself as you sucked on your finger - the one that had definitely been shoved up your pussy only moments ago - and hummed in response. 

“Get up here - now.”

You braced yourself on either side of Bradley’s hips and teasingly brushed your pussy against his aching cock a couple times, practically begging for him to sink inside you. It would be so easy for you to ride him right now, but that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Bossy, bossy,” you teased and crept up his body, pressing kisses to his happy trail and chest along the way. But just as you were about to kiss him on the lips, he stopped you.

“Uh uh.” He stuck his finger in the air and mimed a circle. “Turn around.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Are you…” Again, just Bradley twirled his finger around and smiled. “F-fine.” 

“But,” at this you relaxed your thighs to press more of your weight on his stomach, “you have to take this off,” he finished by thumbing the navy fabric of your nightie. 

It only took a moment for the smile to creep across your face, but you didn’t take your eyes off Bradley’s as you slid the dainty straps off your shoulders, one at a time. You didn’t take the nightie off, it still covered all of your stomach, but it let Bradley ogle your breasts unimpeded for a moment. 

“Will that be all, lieutenant commander?”

He just shook his head in disbelief. “Cheeky little slut.” 

And then you smiled, looking so proud of yourself for rattling him that he had no choice but to slap the top of your ass. Hard. You huffed.

“Now turn around.” 

You rolled your eyes, but managed to turn around with Bradley’s assistance. The brief awkwardness of limbs strewn about was easily forgotten as soon as you got into position and he was rewarded with the sight of your glistening pussy in front of his face.

Bradley didn’t bother holding back a moan and started kneading your ass and running his fingers along your lower spine. Meanwhile, you wiggled down his body, dragging your breasts against his bare skin for the first time all morning. They were so soft, but your nipples were pebbled as they brushed against his stomach. He hissed when you lingered there for a moment to tease him.

Not one to let you get the upper hand, Bradley grabbed your hips to draw you close to his face and inhaled your sweet scent. Fuck. You were so good. You let out a mewl and startled when he first made contact with his tongue and then attempted to nose at your clit. That always got you going. Same with his mustache against the tender skin at the apex of your thighs. Maybe he would abstain from shaving on vacation, if only you’d ask.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he groaned your name against your skin and then he feasted. 

Meanwhile, the way your hands were playing with his balls right now had him already teetering towards an orgasm. After only being able to fantasize about having your hands on him - your sweet, delicate hands on him - for the last three months, this felt divine. And then you put your mouth on him and he was well and truly done for.

“Fuck.” 

Neither of you lasted much longer after that.

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

After your depravity filled wake up call, the rest of the morning took on a decidedly more chaste tone. The room was filled with giggles and the sounds of kissing as Bradley told you some of the more entertaining stories from the carrier and Australia, while you revealed that you had watched his 60 Minutes segment at least nine times. When he asked you why you’d watched it nine times, you just ducked your head and bashfully said it was because you sounded really smart.

It was finally around noon when Bradley said you two needed a shower and to have breakfast before embarking on the rest of the day’s activities, which included a tour of the house, complete with all the little goodies you’d amassed for him over the last couple months that he had glossed over last night, and getting ready for drinks with Nat, Caroline, and Max at six-thirty. Granted, the latter was six hours away, but Bradley had a feeling you both would be pretty slow to the take that afternoon. Probably would get a little distracted, too.

“‘m gonna take a shower,” his lips brushed kisses up and down your arms and over your once again silk clad breasts and he was rewarded with giggles, “you wanna come with me?”

“Oh!? Uhh - yeah, we could take a shower.” You pecked him on the lips. “Can you warm it up first, please?”

The pout worked - it always did - but Bradley still groaned, totally hamming it up. “Mmmm, I suppose...”

With one final kiss, he dragged himself out of bed and made his way into the bathroom. He flicked the lights on with a snap, going for full brightness on the dimmer, and turned around to give you a cheeky wink, only to see you worrying your lip between your teeth and staring intently down at your clasped hands on top of the duvet. He called your name and your eyes snapped up to meet his gaze.

“You good?”

You nodded and put a smile on your face. “Yeah, be right in.”

Odd. But then again, Bradley could’ve been reading too much into it. He hadn’t seen you since before Christmas, afterall. You were probably just tired. Yesterday had been a long day. And he had run you pretty ragged this morning. 

The water had warmed up while he was going to the bathroom and was the perfect temperature by the time he finally got under the spray. Just as he was about to call out to you again, he heard you enter the bathroom - and promptly dim the lights. 

“Woah, woah - hey!”

“Sorry!” you called out from behind the shower curtain. “I uhh - I just have a headache, don’t want the lights too bright too early in the morning.”

It was twelve-fifteen. 

Bradley frowned and looked at your shadow moving on the other side of the curtain. You were standing up straight - he would almost call it stiff. It was an odd request, to say the least, but it wasn’t exactly pitch black in the bathroom now, just a little darker, especially from the waist down. 

“Okay, just be careful when you get in - here,” he pulled the curtain back and held his hand out for you to step over the lip of the tub. You startled, but nevertheless took his hand. “There you go.”

The two of you stood face to face for a moment, allowing you both to get your fill of the other. It was definitely darker in the shower now, but Bradley could still make out your ample curves. Streams of water dripped down your chest as you tipped your head under the faucet and it was impossible for him to not watch as the droplets cascaded over your breasts. 

They looked fucking glorious by the way - he was slightly put out that he hadn’t gotten a chance to really play with them in bed earlier - you had only given him a glimpse of them for a few moments - but there was always later. Or now? Now was also good.

“Did these get bigger?” The words were out before he could think twice and he cupped a breast in each hand. Your nipples pebbled as his thumbs passed over them, back and forth, back and forth.  

Your eyes flew up to his face before glancing right back down at your breasts. “What? No, I don’t think - no.”

Bradley leaned back to catch your eye. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. They look great, feel even better, they’re just…”

“Oh! I guess I hadn’t noticed.” You turned your back to him. “Here, do you want to do my hair? Or I can do yours? Why don’t I do yours?”

Before he could even process what was happening, you spun back around and grabbed the shampoo bottle from behind Bradley and squirted some Ouai into your hands. He leaned forward so you could lather his hair up with the suds and appreciated your care in keeping them out of his eyes. For someone normally so dominant and in control, Bradley really did love when you fussed over him. He knew it wasn’t something you were comfortable with in every aspect of your relationship - taking charge like that - but it was nice in settings like this. Once the shampoo had set, he crouched down for you to rinse and then repeat the process with the conditioner.  

“I think we need a bench in here.”

“Yeah?” 

You hummed. “Just a little bump out, enough for someone to sit. You’re getting older, I wouldn’t want you to fall or hurt yourself during any rigorous shower activity.”

“Rigorous shower activity?” Bradley chuckled and nudged you with his shoulder before wetting your hair under the faucet. “You know, if I took all my showers with you, I wouldn’t have to worry about that, kid. Here, turn around, ‘s your turn.”

Gently, Bradley lathered up your hair and made sure to massage your scalp the same way you had done for him. You let out a pleased hum and then he repeated the process with the conditioner, though he might’ve used a bit too much. 

Once you were both back under the spray, you rested your palms on his chest and peered up at him with wide eyes. You looked like you were about to cry and he pulled you closer in comfort.

“I haven’t stayed here at the house too much while you were gone, just a night or two - like that night…with the email,” you confessed, “it didn’t feel right. I kept thinking you’d come home any minute.” Bradley pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “But I’d drop stuff off slowly, a couple boxes a week and whatnot.”

You both stood in the silence of the falling water for a few moments before you spoke again. 

“It just doesn’t feel real - all of this. I keep worrying that you’re gonna disappear again tomorrow. Or that I’m going to wake up or something. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And that was just the thing: Bradley didn’t know what he’d do without you either. He had never felt this way before; that there was someone else tied to him, someone else living for him, while he in turn lived for them. 

“Hey,” he tipped your chin up, “you’re not the only one worried about that. But I have you with me now and I’m always gonna do my damndest to come home to you, alright, kid?”

“Alright.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, keeping him close, and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Love you, bubs.”

Bradley instantly tightened his arms around you. “Love you, too.” 

I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.

Before long, your kiss on his chest turned into a kiss on the mouth and your hands roved over each other’s bodies as you shared the loofah and soap. “So broad, so strong,” you said in wonder as you roved your hands over his chest and thighs and chased away the bubbles. 

And then, after multiple passes over your breasts at Bradley’s hands - it was unfair how good your breasts looked all sudsed up - it was time for a final rinse. He hopped out of the shower first and had a towel waiting for you when you got out, before you ultimately changed into your fluffy white robe. 

The two of you completed your morning routines side by side in comfortable silence until Bradley went back to the bedroom to put on some running shorts and a t-shirt. 

“You want breakfast?” He snuck up behind you at the bathroom counter and kissed your cheek. 

You smiled at him in the mirror. “Yes, please.”

“Anything in particular.” He kissed you again. “Pancakes? French toast? Ooooo maybe hash browns and bacon, too? The works?”

You had been giggling while he had been kissing your neck, but you suddenly turned sober as he rattled off your options. “Oh, uhh - maybe some eggs?”

Bradley frowned. “Like scrambled?” 

“Or poached? I’ve been eating a lot of egg whites lately…” With the way you were bundled up in your robe and with your hair still wet from the shower, you looked small - young. Egg whites?

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure, I can do some egg whites for you.” 

Egg whites? Since when did you like egg whites? You had always liked your eggs scrambled and a little runny - with ketchup. Idly, Bradley remembered Max eating egg whites and low carb toast for the entire month of May to get in shape for yacht week in Croatia. He shook the thought away.

“Anything you want, kid.”

“Thank you.” You gave him a soft smile and a kiss on the check. “I’ll be down in a bit, okay?”

And with that smile and a promise, Bradley headed off downstairs to make breakfast. 

Egg whites, really?

-----------

Bradley’s homecoming weekend extravaganza - your words - could only be considered truly complete with a family dinner at Maverick and Penny’s on Sunday evening. Penny wouldn’t hear of you two bringing anything to dinner, so all that was needed to do upon returning from a morning hike in Torrey Pines was shower and change. 

You didn’t have to be there until six thirty, but it was already five forty-five and at least a 20 minute drive, so you were both a little more hurried than you were after yesterday’s shower. In fact, when Bradley got out of the shower, he was surprised to see that you were still in your bathrobe and staring at your half of the closet like it contained all of life’s mysteries. Granted, your hair and makeup were done, but you just stood there with your arms crossed over your chest, absentmindedly biting your thumb nail. 

How long had you been standing there?

“If it makes it any easier,” you startled at Bradley’s voice, “I’m sure Mav will just be wearing a t-shirt and jeans.” Barely looking at the shirt he grabbed to go with his chino shorts, Bradley fell into your line of sight. “You good?”

You relaxed your shoulders. “Yeah, just…not sure what to wear.” 

The two of you stood side by side to take in the full array of clothes in the closet. While not all of your clothes - some bulkier items and more formal dresses were in the guest bedroom - there were still dozens of options in front of the two of you. You took a hesitant step forward and eventually took a pair of boyfriend jeans off a shelf and held them to your chest. Just as you were about to grab a boxy oxford, Bradley snatched up a brightly patterned, tiered, sleeveless dress that would hit at the middle of your thighs. The empty hanger rattled against the rod, but it stopped you in your tracks, the oxford momentarily forgotten. 

“This would look nice.” 

Even to Bradley’s own ears, his voice sounded lame, almost a little desperate. But there was something about you choosing an oxford to wear after staring at your closet for ten minutes that gave him pause. You had such pretty clothes, it would be a shame for you not to wear them. 

“It’s not too much?” Bradley shook his head and held the dress up to your body. “I bought it to bring on our trip, but now I’m not sure…”

“It’s perfect, trust me, you’ll look gorgeous. And you better pack it for Mexico, too, okay?”

“Okay.” You appeared a little flustered, but had lost the sad look in your eyes from moments ago, so Bradley considered it a win. 

With a kiss to the side of your head, he told you to finish getting ready and that he would be downstairs when you were done. 

After getting his wallet and car keys together, Bradley made his way to the mudroom to put on his new sneakers. Though you wouldn’t admit it, you had definitely ordered them for Bradley during one of your many Ted Lasso rewatches while he was away. He reminds me of you sometimes, you would demure when pressed. It was cute. 

With one foot propped up on the bench to tie his shoes, Bradley noticed the row of jackets in front of him. He called your name. “You want a jacket?”

“Yes, please,” your voice carried from upstairs.

So, he grabbed your jean jacket, figuring it would look good with your dress, and got himself his oversized grey Navy crewneck sweatshirt. Maverick and Penny always liked to have drinks and dessert out on the back patio, and though it had been a relatively warm day for March, Bradley knew the breeze off the ocean would make it chilly later. Maybe they’d light the firepit and have s’mores? You loved s’mores even more than Bradley did, if you could believe it. 

Just as he had gotten the jackets and threw his sweatshirt on, you appeared beside him. And just like Bradley had thought, the dress looked perfect on you.

“See? You look gorgeous.” You ducked your head and muttered thanks. “Here.” Bradley held your jean jacket open and helped you slip it on while you put on your sandals. And then you set off for Coronado in the Bronco. 

-----------

After a lovely dinner filled with much chatter and laughter, Amelia and Penny dragged you upstairs to show you her dress for the sophomore semi-formal next week. This left Bradley and Maverick to clean up the dinner plates and get things situated outside on the patio.

It was completely beyond Bradley’s comprehension how to get Penny’s fancy fire pit started, but Maverick had a flame roaring in no time. The two sat across from each other - Maverick on one of the cushioned, wicker swivel chairs with Bradley on the matching loveseat - and sipped their beers in comfortable silence for a few moments. The sun had set about fifteen minutes ago, but the sky was still a kaleidoscope of pinks, purples, and oranges. 

“So, how’re you really doing?” Though the question has been asked at dinner already, Bradley had just given a vague answer. But now that it was just him and Maverick, he felt he could be honest.

“Fine, I guess.” Bradley made a face. “‘s always weird doing some stuff again. We went to the store earlier; always takes me back that first time.”

“It’s the cereal. Too many choices.” 

“Yes, thank you!” Bradley exclaimed, glad he had someone who could relate. Every time he brought it up with Nat or the guys, they just looked at him like he had seven heads. They went from having few choices on the carrier, to endless when on land. “And the chips. Too many options and sizes.” Maverick chuckled. “We went on the way back from Torrey Pines to get more Diet Coke and I wandered off like three times just to stare at the oversized boxes of Lucky Charms.”

Maverick smiled wryly and took a sip of his beer. “You don’t look as tired as you did Friday afternoon, that’s for certain.” Though the way he’d said it had been completely innocent, Bradley still blushed.

“Yeah, it’s been amazing. You should’ve seen her Friday night, she was so excited to make dinner and the house just -” he broke off, “it felt nice coming home to someone like that, I guess.”

Nice? I guess? Bradley sounded like an idiot. It had felt more than nice coming home to you. Coming home this time made him never want to leave again. But the real test would come tomorrow when you went to work. And Bradley would be alone for the first time in three months. Alone in your big, quiet, house. It hadn’t been quiet in three months. There was always something else going on around him. But not tomorrow. Tomorrow, he could do things on his own time and make his own food and pick his own clothes. He could have choices. Luckily, Maverick didn’t seem to notice his sudden unease.

“That was all she talked about last week.” 

It took a concerted effort on Bradley’s part not to be jealous that you’d talked to Maverick so much last week when all Bradley had gotten were emails. Beautiful, heartfelt, smutty emails, but emails nonetheless. Before Friday, Bradley hadn’t heard your voice in weeks.

“She did a really good job. The cake was unreal, I had a piece for breakfast this morning.” That got a chuckle out of them both. “It’s nice to see her comfortable doing something outside of her wheelhouse. She kept sending me pictures from her lessons and even cooked for me on Facetime once.”

Just as Maverick appeared to be gearing up for a follow up, probably about how he’d gotten the leftovers from those cooking lessons, Bradley rushed out: “But we really talked Friday night - about a lot of things. It was good, though.”

“What about?” 

“Kids,” the word slipped out before Bradley could think better of it, “family, that kind of stuff.”

Maverick pondered this and took a sip of his beer. “And you didn’t mind talking about that right when you got back? Seems like a lot.”

“No, it was good.” Not looking at Maverick while he was talking made it easier for Bradley. That way he couldn’t see his pity. He shifted in his seat. “I’d rather we talk about it now anyway, that way it isn’t hanging over our heads on vacation and whatnot.” 

The fact that Bradley thought you were keeping something else from him didn’t need to be brought up yet. He wouldn’t even be able to put it into words, it was just a gut feeling at this point. You just seemed a little off. The egg whites, the boxy oxfords, the chocolate cake.

There was hesitancy in Mav’s voice when he spoke next. “So, you looking to get engaged soon? It’s been what? A year?”

“Almost, yeah. But uhh no, no.” The denial was firm in his voice. “Probably still a year off at least. It’s gonna happen - we both want it to - but there’s no need to rush it. I’m excited for it to be just the two of us for a little while, you know in the house and everything.”

“Good, good,” he sounded pleased, “you two have a good thing going, I wouldn’t want -”

“- We’re not going to have kids until I’m out of the Navy.” Bradley said the words in a rush and he really hoped Maverick would ignore how thick his voice sounded. 

But of course he didn’t. Maverick snapped his eyes over to meet Bradley’s, but he was suddenly focused on a loose thread on the upholstery. Shit. Why had he said that?

“Oh.” It was a long time before either of them spoke again. Bradley finished half his beer. “Is that your idea or hers?”

“It’s both of ours.” Bradley winced realizing how defensive he sounded. “Well, I kind of brought it up first, but she was the one who said we’d wait.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Bradley nodded. “Jesus, Bradley, you’ll be at least forty by the time -”

“- Forty-two.” 

Maverick looked sad and Bradley hated it. Because he knew, without Bradley even having to spell it out why you were going to wait. Because Maverick had been there. Because Maverick had held Bradley’s mom as she cried on too many occasions to count. Because Maverick had taken Bradley to all the father/son events in the place of his own father. Because Bradley realized, as he had gotten older, that Maverick thought it was his fault that Bradley grew up without a father. 

“Listen, we both know that a million things can happen between now and then and maybe the timing will be all wrong, but we want to wait. If it gives either of us the slightest peace of mind, we’re going to try and wait.”

The silence was heavy this time around. 

“Well, I guess it’s good you’re talking about it now - even if I don’t entirely agree with it. You should be enjoying your life together, not waiting around…” Maverick seemed to think better of what he was saying and took a sip of his beer. A beat passed until he spoke again. “Also reminds me of some stuff I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

Maverick waved him off. “It can wait until after your trip. Just some estate planning and whatnot, I know the four of us are in a really good place, so figured it was a good time.”

Estate planning? The four of us? The whole family was involved? Bradley’s curiosity was most definitely piqued. 

“Oh, err yeah, sounds good -”

“It’s nothing bad - promise!” he quickly backpedaled, “More paperwork than anything -”

“What’re you ladies gossiping about?” Amelia breezed onto the patio and messed up Bradley’s hair before she plopped down on the other end of the sofa. Naturally, he in turn had to elbow her in the side. Not hard, mind you, but hard enough for her to kick him back. 

“We were actually just talking about the dance coming up next Friday,” Maverick replied smoothly and Bradley stifled a snort. Since when had he become such a good liar? Regardless, Amelia preened. “I was just about to tell Bradley about your date…”

“What?!” Bradley exclaimed.

Amelia pouted, clearly put off that it had been brought up in front of him. He liked Amelia, he was protective of her, fucking shoot him. “Mav likes him!”

Maverick slightly cowed under Bradley and Amelia’s stares. “He’s nice, they’re on the debate team together.”

“Debate team?!” Alright, now he was putting it on a little bit, but as someone who had also been on the debate team in high school, Bradley knew that those guys were also smart, which generally meant they were way more trouble than the typical jocks.

Clearly misconstruing his comment, Amelia frowned. “Listen, I know you were rocking the middle part and puka shell necklace when you were on the debate team, but it’s cool now…”

“Puka shell necklace?” your voice chimed in from the doorway. “Pete never mentioned that when he was telling me of your high school heroics.”

Bradley’s cheeks colored. “Yeah, well, it was the late 90s and I thought Pacey Witter was cool.”

“The 1990s!” Amelia feigned hysterics and got a chuckle out of you and Maverick. “Next you’re going to be talking about where you were on 9/11 -”

“I was in kindergarten, we couldn’t go outside for recess,” you teased.

You sat yourself between Bradley and Amelia on the sofa and he threw his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer. He knew you’d get cold soon, but didn’t want you to run inside to get your jacket or a sweatshirt just yet - he just wanted you beside him. Plus, there was also the fear that you’d get one of Maverick’s sweatshirts from inside if you forwent your jean jacket and that just wouldn’t do.

Amelia groaned, but still turned her attention back on you. “Okay, but you were definitely Joey Potter, breaking hearts left and right. No debate captains for you.” She stuck her tongue out at Bradley for good measure.

“Ha, I wish. No, I was actually kind of lame in high school, very angsty.” Bradley knew why, but Maverick and the Benjamins were still in the dark.

“Really?” Amelia frowned. 

It was easy to understand her confusion since you were just about the coolest person she knew - her words. Amelia had told Bradley so the first night he’d brought you over for dinner. Can you ask her where she got her sneakers? A couple weeks later, you and Bradley had gotten Amelia the very same sneakers for her birthday. She always blushed when you wore them at the same time.

So, the next words out of your mouth clearly surprised her. “Oh, yeah, I was knee deep in Mazzy Star and Vampire Weekend. The dark preppy vibe, if that’s even a thing?”

“Jesus, I wasn’t even that bad.” Bradley squeezed your shoulder and got a smile out of you with his teasing.

Maverick and Penny were talking off on their own, so you turned your full attention towards Amelia. “I was in a car accident my junior year of high school. Kind of set me back with school and then - well, private school kids are kind of vicious so…” 

“What happened? Sorry - that was -”

“- It’s oka -,” you started to say, then seemed to think better of it. Because nothing about that night had been okay. “I was in a car with someone and we got t-boned. I got pretty banged up, broke my right arm and leg. It seemed like I had a perpetual concussion for the next six months. He just broke his arm,” you finished wryly. 

He. 

He just broke his arm.

Bradley pursed his lips at the mention of Teddy Cavanaugh. Fucking prick. To say you’d gotten pretty banged up was putting it way too mildly. Thinking about it again made him just as upset as it had that night all those months ago on your fourth date when you’d told him the entire story. 

And more recently, Bradley had had the unfortunate experience of meeting Teddy over Thanksgiving when Bradley had played golf with your dad one afternoon up in Berkeley. As a rule, Bradley tried not to hate people on sight - at least not anymore. 

But god, he really fucking hated Teddy Cavanaugh. He wanted to fucking deck him on the first tee at Claremont Country Club. He wanted to slam his nine-iron into the Porsche 911 he was driving. And Bradley was pretty sure your dad did too. 

It was such a cunty move to get the same car.

Plus, what self respecting twenty-nine year old still went by Teddy anyway?

But the truth of what happened that night wasn’t exactly appropriate for a post dinner conversation, nevermind the fact that Amelia was only a year younger than you had been that night. 

The realization made Bradley freeze. 

You had only been a year older than Amelia when it happened. Amelia, who still slept with the stuffed cow her grandparents had gotten her for her sixth birthday. Amelia, who still played with her American Girl Dolls when she didn’t get invited to a friend’s house on Friday nights. Amelia, who still made Bradley a new welcome home banner after every deployment. Amelia, who still huffed whenever Bradley ruffled her hair as a hello. Amelia, who Bradley promised he’d teach how to drive that spring.

You were Amelia. You had been that young, that sweet, that trusting and Teddy Cavanaugh had thrown it all back in your face.

Bradley could feel his chest tighten, even as he ignored the chatter around him. Maverick and Penny had joined in whatever conversation you were now having with Amelia, but all Bradley could do was sit there. 

Without a word, he pulled you closer, so you were bundled up in his arms. It was still proper enough in front of his family, but he needed to have you close. Your legs were plastered together alongside Bradley’s right side and you burrowed yourself under the arm he draped across your shoulders. 

Everything was right as it should be. Bradley was with his family, Bradley was with you, here. Not on a carrier in the middle of the Pacific or the passenger seat of Mr. Cavanaugh’s Porsche. 

Here. And nothing bad was going to happen here.  

Soon, the conversation changed to whichever HBO show Amelia and Maverick were excited to watch later that night, while Penny went inside to get the dessert: s’mores. 

“‘You need any help?”

Penny waved you off. “I’m all set, everything’s already measured out.”

Once she was gone, Bradley pressed a light kiss to your shoulder and you shivered. “‘You getting cold, kid?” You nodded. “‘You want my sweatshirt?” 

“Please?”

“I’ve got one in the mudroom if -” 

“No, it’s fine,” Bradley cut off Maverick, “she can have mine.”

Quickly taking off his own sweatshirt and putting it over your head, Bradley didn’t even have the time to linger on how pathetic he sounded. Who did Maverick think he was, offering to let Bradley’s girlfriend borrow a sweatshirt? Didn’t he realize Bradley was more than capable of taking care of you?

“Thanks.” You smiled at him, now cozy and wrapped up in the still warm sweatshirt and Bradley nearly forgot why he had gotten so huffy in the first place. Nearly. 

“So,” Penny popped back out onto the patio with a heaping tray of marshmallows, a bowl of chocolate squares, and stacks of graham crackers, “who wants s’mores?”

“Me, me!” Amelia called, pushing her way towards the tray and subsequently dishing out the marshmallow sticks. 

Little shit gave Bradley the worst one, even knowing Maverick wouldn’t have any and therefore didn’t need one. As payback, he kept putting his marshmallow wherever Amelia’s was. It meant that he didn’t roast a single good marshmallow, but the glare she kept sending him was too funny to make him stop. 

Eventually, after Bradley had to blow out yet another marshmallow - Oh, shit! Not again! - you took over s’more duties. Just as well, really; yours were the best. You turned marshmallow roasting into an art form - a perfectly golden, gooey art form. While you didn’t eat any with graham crackers, you did have one you roasted over the fire with the chocolate already stuffed in the marshmallow. You smiled at Bradley’s shocked expression and then wordlessly made him three exactly like it.

All the while, you answered Penny’s questions about how your dad and Mary were doing and when they were next coming down to San Diego and if they would want to get dinner with her and Pete, just the four of them? But when you started nodding off against Bradley’s shoulder, he knew it was time for you both to head home. 

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

Mon, March 22, 1:43pm

How was your meeting? 

it was fine, but ran over and i didn’t get to have lunch before my one o’clock ☹️

At least have a snack or something, don’t want you wasting away on me, kid. 

i won’t! what’re you up to?

Stopped by the base for a bit, saw the guys and then went to the gym.

I might get a haircut later. 

you can’t get a haircut without me! i don’t trust you not to get it too short! plus i like it a little longer 

Oh yeah? 

i like when it gets curly at the ends, it’s always really soft too. can you wait till after the trip?  please bradley please?

Fine, but only because you begged me…

i’ll make it up to you later, promise and i did not beg you…

Or you could make it up to me now?

Is the office busy today?

no  it’s pretty quiet

You wore that navy skirt, right?

yeah with my white silk blouse 

What’d you wear underneath it?

bradley! i don’t know, boring underwear? 

You wanna show me? Just to check?

you can see when i get home, i’ll even try and sneak out a little early 

Wanna see now

Show me

fine, just give me a sec. i’ll go to the bathroom 

No

At your desk

Now

bradley!

Sweetheart I’m aching

[image: Mr. 7.5 Gs]

fuck holy shit bubs what were you doing before you texted me?

Jerking off, I’m bored

charming

Wanna be inside you

fuck bradley wish i was home to take care of you god you’re so pretty hold on

Keep thinking about you in your office, acting all proper and then I’d barge in and fuck you on that fancy desk of yours

[image: miss ‘the one day i’m wearing plain underwear’]

God such a good girl for me

Are you wet

mmmm  getting there this is so hot unless i get fired

I’d bend you over

Take you from behind

You’re always tighter that way

[Sent with Siri]

bradley

Need your mouth on me

I’d make you get on your knees and suck me off in front of the window

Fuck your throat

[Sent with Siri] 

bradley you’re not playing fair

No you’re not

Need more pictures of you

[Sent with Siri]

What do you want me to do? [Sent with Siri]

Shove your fingers up your cunt

Knuckle deep

[Sent with Siri]

I’d have to use three to feel like yours [Sent with Siri]

Need a video need to hear you too

[Sent with Siri]

[for bradley’s eyes only.mov]

Fuck you’re fucking gorgeous like that 

Always do just what I ask 

Fuck I need you so bad 

[Sent with Siri]

Need you too fuck [Sent with Siri] i can’t believe you got me to do that at work

When are you coming home? 

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

There was something up with you. The thought kept running through Bradley’s head Tuesday evening while he was on his run.

Bradley would never have described you as skittish, but that’s how you had been acting over the last couple days. You were still affectionate and kind and you. And had told him countless times how much you loved him and how happy you were that he was home. 

So, it had to be a physical thing. You were guarded whenever he touched you - whether you were being sexually intimate or he had just grabbed your waist to cuddle you closer on the couch or in bed. It was always your waist or stomach area, really. That was the hot spot.

At first, Bradley thought he’d been too rough with you that first time back, but he knew you trusted him enough to tell him if that was the case, so that was out. Plus, later that morning when you were riding him, you’d asked him to grab your hips so hard he’d leave behind marks. You liked whenever he marked you - and he liked whenever you marked him. And you weren’t shying away from sex with him, not at all. In fact, you were pretty insatiable.

Then, he’d thought you might have hurt yourself while he had been gone and had a scar or something that you hadn’t wanted him to see? But your skin was free of new blemishes, baring the zit on your cheek you’d been complaining about since Saturday night. 

At one point, Bradley had even contemplated that you might be pregnant. He had been gone for three months, an entire first trimester. But something about the theory didn’t sit right with him. 

First, you would’ve fucking told him on Friday night, especially after you both talked about waiting to have kids and how you were on the same page. Because Bradley wasn’t dying in an F-18 with a family at home. 

Then, there was the fact that you had an IUD and the possibility of getting pregnant on an IUD was even less than on the pill (<1% a year - he’d looked it up). And finally, you’d be showing by now, even if only a little bump. But now that he thought about it, in all the days that he’d been home and all the times you’d had sex, Bradley had only seen you completely naked once. One or both of you were always partially clothed. And he would have noticed - right? Your boobs were definitely bigger, but it wasn’t - that wasn’t it, no, he was sure you weren’t pregnant.

It had to be something about your body, your stomach in particular. Because you were still affectionate, still wanted him, were still relatively yourself, your boobs looked great, and you loved him. So, why did you practically jump out of your skin whenever Bradley’s hand grazed your stomach? 

He would give you until Friday to tell him on your own before he asked. That would be a week from when he’d gotten home, more than enough time. Plus, maybe being on vacation would get you to open up a bit? 

Because this just wasn’t you. You didn’t really keep any secrets from Bradley. He wouldn’t be so naive to say that he knew everything about you, but in general you were honest with him. Was there a hint in one of your emails? Some little detail he had glossed over in his haste to read any scrap of news from you, in your voice? Bradley had read all of them at least three times, some even more, but maybe he had missed something?

The run he’d gone on to clear his head left the problem no more clear than when he’d set off forty-five minutes ago. He ran up the back steps to the mudroom and toed off his sneakers before heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. You’d be home soon, he needed to start dinner.

Last night, you’d marinated some steak tips and made some rice pilaf, while Bradley roasted some vegetables. There was plenty of leftover steak for dinner tonight, he just had to decide what to make with it. Taking a peek in the fridge, he took a quick inventory of anything you’d need to finish before leaving Thursday morning. A couple peppers laid in the crisper along with an eggplant, which stumped him as neither of you liked eggplant. He could do steak fajitas with those? There were always fresh tortillas around. Content with his plan, Bradley grabbed a bottle of Pellegrino from the side door and poured himself a glass. 

As he put the bottle back, his eyes landed on the chocolate cake, perfectly ensconced in glass snapware, on the top shelf. How the hell was there still leftover chocolate cake? In addition to what you’d had Friday night, the two of you had had some for breakfast Sunday morning - well, Bradley had had some for breakfast Sunday morning and you’d let him feed you a couple bites. He shut the fridge door with a little more force than necessary and started prepping the peppers and onions. 

You loved chocolate cake. And you’d worked so hard on it. Why the fuck weren’t you eating it? Plus, now that he really thought about it, you’d barely had a s’more at Maverick and Penny’s and instead kept yourself occupied by lovingly making Bradley’s for him. And then there were the egg whites.

It would be a lie to say that none of it had seemed off at the time, but looking at all the incidents together just showed how truly off things were. And then coupled with how off you were with other things like your clothes and stomach - oh. 

No way. No fucking way. That could not be it. 

No, no. You couldn’t be worried about how - 

Just as he was finishing up the peppers to go along with the onions he’d already prepped, Bradley heard the back door open.

“Bubs?” you called out, “I’m home!”

“Hey!” 

“How was your run?”

Bradley quickly washed his hands and went over to meet you in the mudroom. And there you were, looking polished and professional in a black tweed, sleeveless dress that he hadn’t gotten a glimpse at before you’d left for work that morning, thanks to the blazer you’d thrown over it. The bodice of the dress was decorated with what he hoped were functional gold buttons that were just begging to be ripped open. And to top it off, you were wearing semi sheer black tights and those black slingbacks he liked so much. 

Actually, you were leaning against the wall trying to unbuckle those slingbacks he liked so much. But all Bradley could focus on as you asked him about his afternoon was the curve of your hip and the fact that your breasts looked unreal in that dress.

His pretty girlfriend. His pretty girlfriend who looked so smart and absolutely fuckable right now. His. His. His. His -

You stopped trying to take off your shoes and shot him a questioning look as you approached. “Bradley?”

“Sorry, I uhh - yeah, it was fine. Saw the Thompsons finished their patio - is that a new dress?” His fingers idly brushed against the fabric and you froze. 

“Oh, uh, no. I’ve had it for a while. Since the move, I’ve been going through my clothes trying to see what I actually wear and - I know it’s a little small now, it keeps riding up my hips a bit, but I still think it looks nice on top…” You ventured out of the mudroom. “Does it look bad?”

No, it very much did not look bad on you. It was definitely tighter than anything you normally wore to work, but it looked good. And weary from the work day with your hair a little mussed and the dress a bit askew from when you tried to take off your shoes, you looked absolutely divine and Bradley had to have you immediately. 

“No! I’m just,” he goaded you further into the kitchen, “surprised you wore it to work - in a good way!” 

The shy look on your face gradually slipped away and you crowded into Bradley’s space. “In a good way, huh?”

His hands found their way to your waist and he waited for a reaction from you. Getting nothing but a smile, his thumbs rubbed circles along your hips and he brought you chest to chest. 

“I gotta ask, though?” You hummed. “Do these really work?” He dragged his fingers up and down the front of your dress, spending the slightest bit more time along the square neckline and your breasts.

“And what if they did?”

Bradley groaned your name and rested his forehead against yours. “Then I’d have to unbutton every last one of them right now.”

You kissed his neck, paying no mind to the stubble he had been growing since Friday night. If you’d asked, he would shave it in a second, but you loved the roughness against your neck and inner thighs. As your lips kept up their targeted attack on his neck and jawline, your right hand slid between your bodies to palm his cock through his athletic shorts. 

“But if you did that, then you’d have to take me right here…”

Barely a beat passed before Bradley grabbed your hips and plopped you down on the kitchen table. It shook under your weight. Your chest was heaving at the sudden action, in turn drawing his attention to your breasts and those tempting buttons. They reminded him of the ones on his old Naval dress coat from Oceana. 

“Lemme help you out there.” 

His nimble fingers made quick work of the four brass buttons that revealed your black lace bra. Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell you were pleased he didn’t tear off any of the buttons. Knowing you, his spoiled, prissy girlfriend, the dress was probably expensive. Good.

Next, Bradley pushed the wide straps over your shoulders, leaving your black lace bra as his final impediment. “So pretty,” he muttered into your chest. Your head tipped back and you pulled him closer, deeper.

“You didn’t send me any texts today,” you barely got the words out as Bradley made quick work popping one of your breasts, then the other, out of your bra. It was technically a lie; he had texted you, but it had been a do you know where my Theragun is text, not a show me your pussy right now text. “I even wore pretty underwear for you.”

Bradley tutted against your left breast. “Guess I have to make it up to you now.” 

His mouth latched onto your nipple and he needled the little nub with his tongue. You carded your fingers through his hair and gave the ends the slightest little tug. 

“Thought about you all day, bubs,” you whispered the words against Bradley’s ear before nipping at the lobe. 

“Yeah?” Granted, if you kept rutting against each other like this, he’d probably cum in his shorts - there really wasn’t a lot of substance to the running shorts he was wearing - but god. He needed to sink inside you. 

Today was the first time since he’d gotten home that you hadn’t fucked in the morning. You had had to hustle out of the house for an early meeting and even Bradley had an eight-thirty physical at the Naval Medical Center. There had barely been time for a heated makeout against the refrigerator - to say nothing of a good fuck - before you’d left with your lip gloss slightly mussed.

“Would’ve come home sooner if I knew you were wearing these fucking shorts.” You slipped your hand under the waistband of his compression shorts that were borderline painful at this point and grabbed his cock with an expert touch. 

“Fuck…” Bradley allowed your touches to go on for a few more moments before he pulled back, knowing he’d spend in your hand if you kept this up. “Hold on.” You pulled your hand back and he yanked his t-shirt off over his head and threw it on the breakfast bench. Your hands crept across his chest before they eventually rested on his shoulders. 

But now it was Bradley’s turn to touch you. Your tights felt particularly soft beneath his hands as he inched higher and higher up your thighs. He loved when you wore stuff like this, so prim and proper. Especially when you got all squirmy beneath him. Cheeky little thing. The heat was pouring off you where Bradley was touching you between your thighs, even though your underwear and tights. Your arms wound around his neck to pull him closer and press your lips to his in a bruising kiss. God, he could kiss you for hours; he never tired of it.

“Bradley…” you sighed through his ministrations. “More, bubs.” 

He smiled, of course, anything for you. Anything to be inside you. But first, he had to ask: “These the thick ones?” You froze under him. “The tights? The thick tights? Like from Thanksgiving?” 

They had a more formal name, but he was focused on other things at the moment, namely if he could rip a hole in them to get to you faster. Over Thanksgiving, he’d found out the hard way that your tights were often rip resistant. Which really put a damper on a portion of your wine cellar escapades. 

“Oh?” The furrow between your eyebrows disappeared. “Oh! The tights! No, no, they’re cheap ones from J Crew or something.”

Good. Then he wasn’t going to apologize for what he was about to do. Because Bradley had to fuck you, he had to be inside you right now. Something about you and being off and those tights and that dress and his run and the subsequent endorphin rush. 

He had to have you.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bradley tugged at the seam of your tights and ripped a hole in them large enough for his hands - and his dick - to poke through. You sighed when he broke through the nylon and slid your panties to the side to circle your clit with his thumb.

“So good,” he muttered reverently. 

God, what a pretty picture you made. Dress rucked up around your stomach, chest bare, and pretty pussy on display just for him. 

“More, please, Bradley.” You whimpered while he teased you with one finger, then two. “Anything. Need it - you.”

“You get stressed out at work today?” You nodded and then burrowed your head against his neck, rubbing against him like a cat in heat. “Poor thing, da - I’ll take care of you, yeah. Make you forget.” 

Bradley thrusted his fingers deeper inside you, crooking them just slightly so you’d buck up against him. You bit his neck when he tweaked his fingers just right. There you go, just a little more and you’d be ready for him. God, he was aching. He couldn’t fathom teasing you anymore. He needed you, now. 

“Just need to slip inside you, sweetheart. You made it so perfect for me.” Wet. Hot. Tight. Perfect. His. “There we go, just like that, good girl.” Bradley took a moment to line his cock up and slid inside you in one motion. “Fuck,” he punctuated the word with your name, “good?”

“Yes, yes.” 

You got into a steady rhythm that kept increasing. The table creaked under your combined weight and had anything been on it, it surely would’ve toppled over by now. 

You tightened around his cock and met his hips thrust for thrust. A wave of heat swept over Bradley’s body and he could feel you slipping deeper into a lustful haze. Knowing he was also close and would be near useless in moments, he hiked your left leg higher up on his hip so your heel was digging into the back of his thigh, anchoring you to him. 

“That’s it, that’s it,” Bradley said mindlessly. 

Your faces were so close, you were breathing each other’s air, stealing the word’s off the other’s lips. Yours and mine are the same. You cried out suddenly and snapped your eyes up to meet Bradley’s brown ones. God, you were beautiful. You both were beautiful. This was beautiful. Being together like this was beautiful. It was wet and loud and messy, but it was beautiful. 

Everything about it.

“‘m so close,” he finished with your name on his lips like a plea. “Wanna wait for you.”

“Don’t, ‘ll be right there.”

His thrusts eventually got sloppier and slower, but he could still feel you clenching around him as he spent himself inside you. 

“Fuck,” he panted your name. “That’s it, that’s it.”

“‘s full, bubs.” Your nails dug into his shoulder, centering him so he could turn the focus back on you.

All he needed was a few more shallow thrusts and a punch of your clit to get you there alongside him. You came with a cry, utterly spent, but sated. 

Your legs relaxed their hold against his thighs, but you didn’t totally release him. Meanwhile, he pressed kisses across your cheeks and lips, before finding himself notched along your neck. 

“There you go, good girl. Did such a good job, huh. So beautiful.”

It was quiet between the two of you for a few moments, all Bradley could hear was your breaths panting against his cheek, while your index finger moved lazily across his shoulder blade. But then you started shaking. 

And at first he thought it was from being overstimulated until he realized you were shaking from silent giggles. Bradley picked his head up from where it was buried in your neck and leveled you with a look that had you properly bursting into laughter. He wanted to make some smart comment, something cheeky, but the gorgeous smile on your face had him losing his feigned stoicism and he started laughing right alongside you. 

“So,” you said after your laughter subsided, “what’s for dinner, bubs?”

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

The following morning, Bradley poked his head into the dining room where you’d made up your office for the day. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why you weren’t using the office upstairs, but he held back. He liked that you were downstairs, he liked that you were close to him. 

Of course he’d seen you work from home before. But there was something about seeing you holding meetings and taking calls for the first time in your home that made him smile. 

And though you were taking a half day to prepare for leaving tomorrow, Bradley knew you’d be checking your email and Slack for the rest of the afternoon before officially logging off for the next 10 days. 

10 days in Punta Mita - just the two of you, no distractions, no emails, no training runs, nothing but the sun, sea, sustenance, sleep, and sex. 

Just you and me, kid.

Bradley inched further into the room and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m gonna go for a run, but should be back for lunch.”

You took out your Airpods before responding. “Sounds good, how much are you thinking?”

“Probably a quick 10k?” It had been ages since Bradley had run his usual route through Balboa Park, so these last few days had been a treat.

“‘A quick 10k,’ he says. I should be done by the time you get back?” He nodded. “We can have lunch and then I’ll head out on my errands.”

Errands? “Oh? I didn’t know you were going out?”

You sat up straighter and fully focused on him. “Yeah, I have to get my nails done and then have to pick up a couple things - like your special sunscreen...”

“Can I come?” he asked, completely ignoring the sunscreen comment. It wasn’t special per se, it was just high SPF since he burned easily. 

“Really?” You sounded surprised. “It’ll be pretty boring.”

“No, I wanna come with you.” I wanna spend time with you. 

A bashful smile appeared on your face. “Okay, I’m trying a new salon.”

“Ditching your old stomping grounds?” Bradley asked, referencing your old neighborhood near Gaslamp. 

You nodded your head. “Figured I’d try someplace around here, but the only one that looks promising is way up on 30th?”

“I think we can make due with that,” he pecked your cheek, “alright, I’ll see you in a bit, kid. Don’t work too hard.”

“Har, har, see you soon.”

Bradley shot you a wink and set off. Who knew, maybe he’d set a new PR in his haste to get back home to you?

And sure enough, after his quick 10k through Balboa Park and the surrounding neighborhood, Bradley bounded up the back steps and quickly disposed of his sneakers and his sweat stained grey t-shirt on the mudroom floor. It had been stupid to even wear one in the first place, he’d had to tuck it into his waistband before he hit the first half mile. 

“New personal record!” 

Your face lit up with a smile as Bradley came into the dining room. “See, now, how do I know you just didn’t milk a 3 mile run or something?”

He rolled his eyes and gestured down at his torso, which was gleaming with sweat, even in the soft mid-day lighting currently cloaking the dining room, and showed you his running app for good measure. “Does this look like I milked it?”

“Come ‘ere.” You held your arms out.

“I’m all sweaty, kid…”

“Nope, don’t care, please?”

Hey, if you weren’t going to complain that Bradley was too sweaty or smelled, then he wasn’t about to put you off. He wrapped his arms around you over the back of the chair and put his chin on the top of your head.

“You know, if you like the scent of someone’s sweat that means you’re soulmates…” 

“Is that right?” You sounded amused.

Bradley burrowed his face in your neck, forcing a giggle out of you even before he pressed butterfly kisses everywhere. “Mmmhhmm, yup. You always smell perfect.” 

“That’s just my perfume!” 

“Nope, just you kid.” 

Bradley could feel you relax and let out a sigh. The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, content to just be with each other, until your Mac dinged with an Outlook notification. You stretched your arms out in front of you to reply to the email, but Bradley didn’t let you go. As he watched you type out a response to your coworker about if ESG investments were just virtue signaling or not, his eyes caught a glint of gold on your wrist.

“You really wear that bracelet everyday, huh?”

You turned your head to look up at him and he was pleased to note you looked incredibly flustered. “Of course I do. You got it for me.”

The matter of fact way you responded had him blushing. “Guess I’ll have to get you the necklace for your birthday…”

“You better not!” He just kissed your cheek. “Bradley, I’m serious! That’s too much - especially for just a birthday.”

“Then I’ll get it for you for our anniversary.”

“Bubs…” You were pouting now and it only made him want to get you the necklace more. “It’s too expensive for something like that; I looked it up online.”

“You’re no fun.” 

And so he would continue to be denied the pleasure of seeing you in the matching jewelry - at least until he wore you down. You did have a point, though - the necklace was almost twice as much as the bracelet. But then again, you bought Bradley little (and not so little) things all the time?

Idly, he recalled the jibe he had ignored from Hangman the other day regarding his leave: not all of us have rich girlfriends to take us on two week vacations. Bradley’s reply that it was only for ten days, not two weeks hadn’t exactly done him any favors. 

But it was a points game! It was practically free. (He knew it wasn’t, but…) And you were going dutch for all the incidentals and room charges. It was going to be perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. 

Ten glorious days of no work, no distractions, just the two of you. 

You turned around in your chair so you were properly facing him. “Do you want to get lunch out? Make an afternoon of it? We don’t really have much in the fridge, so it’s either lunch or dinner out and I know you still have to pack.”

A smile crept across his face and he kissed your nose. “I’d love to go to lunch with you. You sure you won’t get sick of me? All this one on one time?”

You just shook your head. “Nope, not that easily. Well, unless you sit next to me at the salon, I’m not very chatty while I’m getting a pedicure.”

“Woah, woah.” Bradley held his hands up and you grabbed one to examine it. “Since when am I getting my nails done?”

“You’re getting a pedicure at the very least. I don’t want to have to look at your weird feet on the beach all week.” 

“Oh-ho, now you’ve done it.” 

He bundled you up in his arms and started tickling your sides. That was your sweet spot. And hopefully if he was tickling you, you’d forget to be jumpy when he touched you there. He hadn’t forgotten about that.

“Bradley! Bradley,” you giggled. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding, I’m kidding. No pedicure.”

But Bradley did end up getting a pedicure, even if it only entailed getting his feet buffed. If pressed, he would say it was because he wanted to sit in the massage chair and the nail tech told him he could only sit in the chair if he was getting his nails done. That was the only reason why. It wasn’t because of how pretty you looked while you were smiling at him out of the corner of his eye, like you couldn’t believe he was really there.  

Absolutely not.

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

“Do you need any help packing?” 

Bradley nodded, he hoped he didn’t look too sheepish. At thirty-six years old, he absolutely could pack his own clothes, but he liked when you fussed over him and made sure your clothing was complementary to each other. It was sweet. Plus, you always packed stuff he hadn’t thought to bring or wear together.

The two of you were a well oiled machine. Bradley would roll his underwear, pajamas, and gym clothes into his packing cubes while you helped pick out his bathing suits and later his dinner and day clothes. To his great surprise, you managed to fit all his clothes - for ten days, mind you - into his Samsonite carryon. His toiletries and extra pair of shoes and other incidentals would go in his backpack.

Once his suitcase was zipped up and ready to go, Bradley nodded towards your Rimowa stashed by the bedroom door. “‘You need any help? You don’t normally check?”

You normally lived by the carry-on rule, so it seemed out of character for you to check a full-size bag. Which, of course, wasn’t the first thing that seemed out of character for you since Bradley had gotten home. But he promised himself he’d wait until you came to him with your problem. Or till Friday.

“Oh, uhh, yeah, I guess I just have more stuff this time.” You shook your head. “I packed earlier while you were taking a nap, but thanks.”

He clicked his tongue. “Guess it’ll be a surprise then.”

“Hmmm, I’ll let you see my shoes?”

Bradley sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back on his elbows. “You’d do that? For me?”

You giggled and then mimicked his pose on the bed, except you made sure to snuggle up next to him, all earlier awkwardness gone. “I’d do anything for you actually.”

“Sap.” He kissed you. 

“Nerd.” You kissed him. 

“See, now you’re killing the vibe,” he teased. You giggled and kissed his shoulder through his t-shirt. “You ready for tomorrow?” You nodded. “You’re not gonna get sick of me, right?”

You shook your head. “Never, even if you are a nerd who gets pedicures -”

“- I was coerced! The massage chair!” You giggled. “Alright, alright, walk me through tomorrow.”

At this point, Bradley was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, while you were tucked under his arm, peering up at him. 

“We should leave by six if our flight’s at eight forty-five, especially if we want to go to the lounge beforehand. It’s spring break-ish and I’m not sure if it’ll be crazy in the terminal, so the lounge might be a good idea.”

“Got it, United lounge for breakfast, good.” 

“Flight’s like three hours.”

“Mmmmm, perfect for a nap.”

You chuckled. “I think we get in around one o’clock with the time difference and everything. The hotel’s sending a car and then it’s like an hour drive to Punta Mita.”

“So, if we play our cards right, we could be on the beach by three-o-one?”

“Oh, for sure,” you feigned seriousness, “If anyone can, it’s the two of us.”

And ain’t that the truth? Bradley held his hand up for a high five, which you heartily returned. “Nice job, kid. It’s gonna be great.”

Ten days. You and Bradley at some tony resort in Mexico. No cares, no worries for ten whole days. Fucking perfect. 

Everything was going to be perfect.

-----------

If at all possible, in the three months that he had been gone, Bradley had gotten even more handsome. 

Sure, you’d seen a grainy image of him every two or so weeks over Facetime and had noticed him mentioning going to the gym a lot on the carrier. You’d known he was going to look different. His hair was going to be longer and blonder and his skin darker. He was still your Bradley and you loved him all the same. 

But seeing him on the 16 inch screen of your Macbook compared to all six foot one inches of Bradley Bradshaw in person was an eye opener. 

Because you hadn’t been prepared for how it made you feel in comparison. Because he was so strong and fit and beautiful - and you didn’t think you were any of those things. Not anymore at least. Not after what happened.

Not after how often you’d been skipping pilates to spend some extra time in the office or all the meals you’d eaten on the go or out with clients. You should have taken your mother’s words to heart at lunch two weeks ago when she had told you to watch your figure, boys like Bradley are used to certain standards. 

That afternoon when you’d gotten back to your apartment, you’d gone straight to your walk-in closet and scrutinized every inch of your body in the full length mirror. 

Certain standards.

Why did you let her get in your head? Why did you let any of it get in your head? It wasn’t true, it wasn’t true. None of it was true. 

Certain standards. 

And then, when you finally picked Bradley up on that cloudy, late March day, you wore an oxford of his and a pair of baggy jeans. You still looked cute, you still looked like you put in an effort, but you didn’t look as dolled up as some of the other wives and girlfriends and partners and maybe you should have? Maybe you should have worn a cute little sundress and forgotten your underwear or some other ridiculous thing? Let him fuck you in the back of the car right in the middle of the parking lot? 

That wasn’t you, though. That wasn’t either of you.

But Bradley loved you. He had told you in about 159 different ways (re. emails) while he was gone. He loved you, he wanted you, he was going to live with you, build a life with you. You knew he loved you no matter what you looked like. 

Certain standards.

But when he fucked you softly and slowly that first morning back - only after originally falling asleep on you, which you tried not to be too upset about - and you told him how much you loved him and missed him, you did so with the lights completely off and with your chemise on before snuggling in his arms. 

It was stupid. The entire thing was stupid. You knew that. And you knew you’d feel this way until you confronted Bradley and he ultimately proved you wrong. But doing that wouldn’t fully stop those feelings from brewing inside you either. 

And yeah, for the first few days you’d been too caught up in the ecstasy of him finally being home - in the home that you two finally shared - to really give it much thought. But tomorrow you were going on a ten day long beach vacation to Mexico and you couldn’t help but toss and turn all night wondering if you were up to certain standards. 

-----------

a/n: oops! this was super long, sorry! but there's such an interesting story here and i'm so excited to show how it'll unfold in the next chapter when they're in mexico!

tagging a couple people: @sometimesanalice @withahappyrefrain @cherrycola27 @notroosterbradshaw @gigisimsonmars @pisupsala @dissonannce @laracrofted @heartsofminds @briseisgone

[buck-star]

Unspoken desires

You never thought the deep sparkle in your best friend’s eyes could be something you will enjoy just as much as he does. But somehow it does and it causes a deeper relationship between the two of you.

Pairing: BestFriend!Dom!Ransom Drysdale x BestFriend!Sub!Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.362 Words

Warnings/Tags: Best Friends to lovers, dom/sub dynamics, teasing talking about spanking, petnames [sweet pie, baby girl], fluff

Authors Note: @holylulusworld here it is. Dividers made by me.

Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Warm sunbeams warm up the cool air, brightening the day and flooding everything in a wonderful yellow-orange color. The perfect, romantic atmosphere - perfectly fitting your mood when you're with your best friend.

You're seated on the comfortable mattress of Ransom's bed, your back resting against the headboard while your legs are stretched out. In one of your hands, you hold the remote to switch through the channels while you use the other to pick at your lip, getting rid of the dry skin.

“Stop that,” the low voice of your best friend suddenly echoes through the room. His usual soft tone now demanding and leaving no room for arguments. He leans with his broad, muscular body in the door frame to his bedroom, his ocean blue eyes darkening slightly and his lips in a thin line. “Not gonna ask you again. Stop that.”

You look at Ransom with big eyes, your fingers glued to your lips. Your mind isn’t as fast as he wants it to be. He just appears with such a dominance in front of you, you need a moment to collect yourself. You swallow thickly, letting your hand fall into your lap. Your tongue instinctively swipes over your lips, wetting them, and you feel another bit of old skin that annoys you. But for some reason you don't dare to bring your hand back up, to do anything else than what he's saying.

Ransom smiles softly, pushing himself off the door frame. His muscles flex when he does so, and you swallow down the whimper that threatens to escape your mouth. Your best friend stands straight before he walks - with those damn elegant and slow movements - to the drawer where the television is placed on. “If you have dry lips, drink and use some balm for them.”

He takes out a little thing from the drawer, closing it before he walks around the bed and sits down on the edge, next to you. Ransom opens the little bottle - probably some balm he was talking about - and squirts some of it on his pointer finger. You watch him intensely; something changed in his behavior around you, and you wonder what it is.

Of course, Ran always cares about you, his best friend. And maybe those butterflies you always feel in your stomach when you're around him are the reason that you think his behavior changed. Maybe he didn't change it at all, but you only imagine it and wish for it to be anything more than friends.

“Open up, sweetie pie,” he mumbles, using your usual pet name. Your eyes move from his finger to his face, taking in his soft smile and the softness in his blue eyes, but somehow there was more. Something you're sure you never saw before, a sparkle that shows a deeper desire that he doesn't speak out loud. His voice is suddenly an octave deeper when he speaks up again. “Open up.”

You slowly part your lips, eyes looking directly into his. Ransom smirks at you, bringing his finger, covered in the balm, to your lips, slowly moving it over them. He frowns, one of his eyebrows raising as he keeps the soft stroking over your dry lips.

“How much did you drink already?” He questions, keeping his thumb on your lower lip but stopping the soft motion of rubbing the balm into them. You look down, swallowing before you look at him again. His intense gaze feels like he could watch into your soul with ease, and it causes another whimper to roll up your throat.

“M-Maybe a glass…” you mumble, cheeks heating up when you drop your gaze once more. Ransom shakes his head, a soft sigh escaping his plump lips. He doesn't like the lack of self care - knowing it will affect you at one point. “But- But it's only, uh, early afternoon.”

“I don't like that,'“ he whispers, leaning closer. Ransom swipes his fingers under your chin, lifting it up so you have to face him. His blue orbs holding softness, concern, but also a hint of dominance. The hint deep down, captured in a capture you want to open to get to know more of that side. “I don't like when you have such a lack of self-care, baby girl.”

This time you can’t swallow down the whimper that escapes your lips. Your eyes widen when you hear the needy sound coming from you. Ransom smirks, noticing the way you try to turn away from him to hide yourself in his pillow. He immediately reaches out to wrap his calloused hand around your throat and pull you back to him.

“Where are you going, baby girl?” He asks, grinning when he feels the way you swallow thickly. His hand is only loosely wrapped around your throat, not adding pressure but showing who’s in control. And this damn nickname, it's like he loves it to tease you with it now. Another whimper escapes you, and you feel the heat rising into your face further. “That's what you like, naughty girl.”

“R-Ran,” you gasp, grabbing his arm, Your nails sink into his skin, but he keeps smiling at you with that soft expression. And, damn, he knows what he’s doing to you, the softness turning into a more cocky expression. If you wouldn't be so speechless, you would smack him, but something tells you to not do that right now, not when he's the one in control.

You press your thighs together, feeling the fabric of your panties being soaked from the dominance he's showing toward you. Ransom looks down your body, noticing the movement of your legs, the way you press them together. He raises a brow when his eyes settle back on your face.

“Not only liking it, baby girl, loving it, huh?” He chuckles. Ransom's hand still around your throat, adding a bit of pressure to push you back into the pillows behind you. He leans down with you a bit before he lets go of your throat and sits back up. “Lost your big girl words, baby? You need me to tell you what you think, or else I have to assume that you don't like it.”

You want to roll your eyes, to sit up to punch his shoulder slightly, but somehow you stay where you are. Your mind clouded with need, a need you never thought you would ever feel, but here it is. Ransom keeps looking at you, closing the little bottle of balm and placing it on the nightstand. Your lips form into a soft pout when your eyes roam over his face and down to his muscular shoulders, further down to his hands in his lap. The hand that was just brushing your lips and wrapped around your throat. How is it possible for him to be so calm and smiling while you're feeling like a puddle in his hands.

Ransom's expression suddenly changes when you don't answer him. Concern is written all over his face when he shifts. He grasps your waist and pulls you onto his lap. One of his big hands finds its way to your thighs, while the other settles on your lower back, rubbing soft circles into your skin.

“Are you okay? Was it too much? I'm sorry if it was,” Ransom mumbles, watching your expression and body language intensely. He keeps the soft motion of his hand on your back while he waits patiently for you to answer him.

“R-Ran, what was that?” You whisper, leaning your head against his broad chest. He assumed punches, screaming for being so weird, but the first thing you asked was what that was. Wasn't it obvious?

“I-I dominated you; I had the control,” he explains. Searching for a more detailed explanation since you look still a bit in a haze. “You picked your lips; I don't like when you do it. I neither do like it when you drink too little for your own good. I'm sorry, I should have asked and… I fuck—”

You bring one of your hands to his muscular chest, stroking it softly over his shirt. Ransom looks down at your smaller hand, smiling softly.

“I couldn't help myself. You… I-I’m more of the dominant one, and my first ex, she’s a sub; we discovered a lot together, and after…” Ransom stops, running his hand that was placed on your thighs through his soft locks before placing it back on your thighs, filling your stomach with the familiar warmth you always feel around him. “After I wasn't in a relationship most people consider as normal. Of course, there are times when it's less of the dom and sub dynamic, but it’s still mostly a d/s relationship. And with you… honey pie.”

Ransom inhales deeply, pulling you closer like he fears that you could jump off his lap and run away. You wrap one of your arms around his neck, leaning further into him as you press your other palm against his chest, feeling his racing heart. Ransom is barely nervous; he's always so calm and grounded with everything he's doing.

“I love you,” he breathes out. You blink, forcing yourself to push back slightly and look at him. Does the guy in the movie have the same soft voice Ransom has, or did he really just confess his feelings to you? “I love you; I'm so in love with you, honey pie. But I'm afraid… afraid that you don’t like that side of me but also th-that I can't give you what a ‘normal' relationship would offer you. The dominance took over when I saw you picking your lips again. I'm sorry.”

“Are you stupid?” You blurt out, clamping a hand down on your mouth immediately. Ransom chuckles softly, shrugging. He might be a bit stupid, at least stupid in love. “I-I it was intense to give up control like that. But in a good way, I-I… I never thought it would feel that good to let someone take control.”

Your admission surprises Ransom slightly. Of course, he has seen your widened eyes, your parted lips, and your clenched thighs, but your reaction afterwards made him unsure about seeing your reaction right. He moves his hand from your thighs up to your chin, turning your face softly until your eyes are locked with his.

“You should freak out,” he mumbles with a soft laugh. “Not just because I confessed the kind of relationships I like but also because of the love confession.”

The soft giggle coming from you makes his heart beat faster and his grip around your waist tightens slightly. “Mhm, no, nothing to freak out. But… I love you too,” you admit with a soft giggle, hiding your face in his broad chest. “And this whole dominance, it suits you; it makes you even hotter, and so mhmmmm.”

“So what?” Ransom laughs, mimicking the tone you made with a low chuckle, his chest vibrating. “So, you liked it, and you love me… then-” he interrupts himself, his heartbeat increasing, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

You rub your hand up and down his chest, trying to soothe him. You lean closer, grinning when you kiss him softly. Ransom gasps, immediately trying to catch up to kiss you back. Your teeth graze his lips, and he shudders until you tip down slowly and earn a growl from your best friend.

“You earn yourself a spanking if you keep teasing me, baby girl,” he growls, his voice in that low, dominant tone. You shiver in his lap, pulling back only slightly, your breath hitching in excitement; you bite your lip, keeping the soft grin on your lips. “Let go of your lip, or you will count the spanks.”

You whimper, pressing your thighs together - and fuck, this shouldn't be that hot, but it is. He clears his throat, leaning closer until his lips are firmly pressed against your forehead. His voice once again soft and tender when he speaks up. “Do you want to be mine?”

“Sub or girlfriend?” You wonder, tracing your fingers over his chest to his abs. His breath quickens the lower your hand moves, and you giggle when you feel him shifting underneath you. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his chest and leaving his on top of your smaller hand.

“Both. I mean… if you want. I want you, and if you say you don't… don't like the whole d/s relationship stuff, then I will try to give you the best of me without these aspects,” he murmurs, inhaling deeply. His heart is racing; of course, he loves you anyway, but a part of him hopes that you will agree to the whole him, to his desires that make the bond between people stronger than just a normal relationship. “If you want to. D/s relationships are built on trust and love, way more than a ‘normal' one; sometimes, they connect you in more ways. But if you say no, we will make it the deepest love relationship without those things.”

It’s not Ransom trying to convince you to agree to him. It was your best friend who’s deeply in love with you, promising you everything you ask for.

“You already gave me a taste of your dominance, and you think someone can say no to that then?” You giggle, shaking your head. “I would love to be yours, your girlfriend, but also your sub.”

Ransom nods, letting himself fall backwards on his bed, pulling you with him. His strong arms snake around you, and he grips you even tighter, purring low in his chest. “Decide on a movie so you can calm down a bit before we have to go over some basics, rules, limits, you know. And then we will get you something to drink. Damn, finally you're all mine, baby girl.”

With a chuckle, you adjust yourself on top of him and look for something you want to watch with him. Ransom presses his lips softly on your hair. Your heart flutters at the thought of belonging to him but also knowing that he belongs to you - that he loves you, too.

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @blackhawkfanatic @hisredheadedgoddess28 @armystay89 [add yoruself]

[chrissturnsfav]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 loser!matt and fuckgirl!reader meet

the music pulses through the house, a bass-heavy rhythm that you can feel vibrating in your chest. laughter and voices mix with the beat, a chaotic symphony of a saturday night party. the air is thick with the scent of perfume, spilled drinks, and the faintest hint of weed.

you’re at the center of it all, like always. your friends hang on your every word, their giggles rising like bubbles in a soda as you recount some outrageous story that’s half true and half too good to believe.

you take a sip of your drink—something sweet and strong—and let your gaze wander lazily over the crowd. you know almost everyone here, and they all know you. the thrill of attention is comforting, warm and familiar, and it boosts your ego. but then, your eyes catch on someone unfamiliar.

he’s leaning against the wall, partially hidden in the shadow of a flickering neon sign. a plaid shirt, worn jeans, and a beer bottle held loosely in one hand.

he’s quiet, his eyes scanning the room with a mix of caution and curiosity. his lips curl into a faint, almost invisible smile when he watches someone stumble over a poorly executed dance move. he’s not part of the chaos, not like you are. he’s observing, separate and untouchable.

very intriguing.

you tilt your head and narrow your eyes, studying him for a moment longer. he doesn’t fit here—not with the sweaty, writhing crowd or the boisterous laughter spilling over from a nearby beer pong table. it's enough to make you curious.

without thinking twice, you excuse yourself from your friends with a playful wave and weave through the crowd, your hips swaying just enough to part the sea of drunken bodies. the floor sticks faintly under your heels as you approach him, and you feel his eyes flicker to you before quickly darting back to his beer.

"hey," you smirk, letting the word slide out like it’s dipped in honey. you lean casually against the wall next to him, your shoulder almost brushing his but not quite. "never seen you before," you snicker, sipping your drink.

his lips quirk up slightly, but he doesn’t look at you. not directly. "'cause i don't go out," he shrugs.

"yeah, clearly," you laugh, loud enough to drown out the rest of the room. "you don't seem to fit in, no offense at all by the way."

"you're right," he mumbles, looking toward the group of people dancing like idiots and shakes his head.

you raise an eyebrow, amused. "so why are you here then?"

the boy shrugs, taking a sip of his beer, "came with my brothers."

you smirk curiously, leaning a bit closer to him against the wall as you speak with a hint of seductiveness, "yeah? who's your brothers?"

he notices your closeness, snickering a bit under his breath responding nonchalantly, "chris and nick."

you tilt your head to the side, your lips parting as the image of nick and chris pop into your head. you know of them, knowing that they're triplets, but you had never seen the third one around before. "so you're the third triplet?"

the boy nods, but it’s not with any pride or enthusiasm. it’s more like he’s trying to explain away his awkwardness, or maybe even justify why you've never seen him before. '"yeah," he mutters, taking another sip of his beer like it’ll help him escape the conversation.

"i see," you say with a smirk, drawing the words out slow. "so you’re just the quiet one?"

he looks at you for the first time in the conversation, the corner of his mouth twitching like he might smile, but he doesn’t. instead, he shrugs. "something like that. they’re more the… social type. m'not really big on crowds."

"what's your name baby?" you quip flirtatiously, keeping the charming smirk on your face.

he doesn't seem amused by the pet name, almost like he expected you to say something like that. "matt," he mutters, taking another sip of his beer.

there's a small, nagging frustration creeping in—something you’re not used to feeling. normally, guys are falling over themselves just to talk to you, to get a little attention. but matt? he’s too cool, too calm, almost like you’re just another part of the background noise to him.

but then there’s that flicker in his eyes—just enough to make your heart race. he’s not falling for your usual moves, but you can see it now: there’s something more beneath that nonchalant, cool exterior. a curiosity, maybe even a hint of interest. it’s not the usual eager gaze you’re used to, but there's something almost…enticing about the way he’s not giving it to you.

it sparks something else inside you. something deeper. maybe it's the challenge. maybe it’s the way he doesn’t need you to flatter his ego to get your attention. whatever it is, it’s stirring something inside you, something that makes you want him even more.

when you tell matt your name, keeping up your suggestive tone, he scoffs, shaking his head with a smirk as his eyes flit from the crowd to your face, "i know."

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: nothing newww i'm sorry :( i j redid my introduction for this au and decided to post their meet as a prompt. but new things are coming soon !! i've just been in a funk and i don't feel like writing lately

thank you for reading!! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03

@chrissturnsfav ™

[thatgenericwriter]

Bedazzled || Gregory House

Paring: Gregory House x fem!reader

Summary: who would have thought an angel would be so comfortable hanging around the devil

Warnings: none

Word Count: 0.7k

p.s. based on a request by anonymous

P.s.s. takes place around the first few seasons

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

When you first walked into House's office everyone was convinced you were lost, but when you walked up to House and started to talk with him without hesitating, no one knew what to think.

The ducklings watched in shock as the head of the pediatrics department, a person who could accurately be described as the kindest person in the hospital, casually chatted away with House.

You paid them no mind as you continued to talk with House who watched in amusement as you vibrantly describe to him one of your patient's symptoms, your bracelets clinking against each other as you wave your hands around rapidly.

The ducklings quickly pretend to be working on something as you and House walk through the adjoining door. You greet all of them by pulling out a handful of candy from one of your lab coat's pockets and placing it on the table. "Hi! I'm y/n and I'm the head of the pediatrics department! Here is a token of my appreciation for helping me with this patient!" You smile at all of them before taking a seat at the head of the table.

As you settle in you miss the looks of confusion and shock that passes everyone's faces. Once you're comfortable you swivel towards House. "Take it away boss man!" The ducklings swear they see a hint of a smile on his face before he starts to go over the case details.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

You had first met House in the cafeteria after accidentally spilling your drink all over him. You quickly started to apologize before digging your monster truck themed tissues out of your bag and offering to him. The next time you were in the cafeteria line a brand new pack of monster truck tissues appeared on your tray.

You and House had been eating lunch with each other for a month before you had asked him for help. Leading to the funnest four days you ever had.

When you were not trying to save a kid's life, you were helping House bedazzled his pill bottles, decorating his cane with goofy stickers, and pulling pranks on Wilson.

His team watched in pure shock as House allowed you to do all these things to him without a single snarky comment or rude gesture. They had come to the conclusion that you were magical. That was the only explanation for why House was so nice to you.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once the case was over, you bid your goodbyes to the team leaving them with yet another pile of candy and a special friendship bracelet for each of them.

After thanking everyone once more you feel a tug on the back of your shirt and turn to see House gesturing you towards his conjoining office. You walk through the door and hear the blinds close from behind you, effectively blocking the ducklings' view of you both.

"If you're feeling left out don't worry! I made you a bracelet too!" You hold up his bracelet along with the matching one on your wrist. "Yours is extra special cuz it matches mine!"

"I don't want your friendship bracelet." You look up at House with a disappointed look on your face. "Oh." Sadly you avert your gaze away from him.

You feel his hand under your chin before you're being forced to look at him. "I don't want your friendship bracelet because I don't want to be just friends with you."

Your eyes widen in surprise and you open your mouth to respond, but House's lips are on yours before any sound gets out. Quickly, you kiss back tilting your head slightly to deepen it. A muffled moan leaves your lips before you are shocked out of the kiss by the sound of the blinds opening.

You quickly move away from House only to see Cameron and Foreman handing Chase cash. "They were betting on us!" You march towards the door and watch as the three ducklings speedily try to leave the room.

"Nuh uh! All of you sit down right now!" All of them sit down at the table as you walk up to Chase. "Money. Now." You stick your hand out and Chase places the money in your hands before looking down at the table shamefully.

You giggle before yelling over your shoulder to House. "Lunch is on me, babe!" 

[theogbadbitch]

You tried to kill me with this one?????????

“Grief was a bitch. “ Grief is definitely weapon formed against me that be PROSPERING.

“I could use some time together. Whatever you have tonight, I'll take it. I know you have to be up early tomorrow, so even an hour is –" him communicating that he needs her>>>

“You're not a burden, Terry; you're my husband – my friend." The fact that they were friends before anything!!

“He owed her his life, the full weight of his love, until the day God deemed their time together but a beautiful memory forever etched in boxed trinkets and old photos. “ IN TEARS ACTUALLY

“I fuckin' love you, Treece. Don't ever leave me…Please, don't ever leave me." CUT THESE CAMERAS

Him full on sobbing, its so telling of their connection that he’s comfortable to bear all his emotions to her!!! I love them I love them.

“She's perfect, God. Even when she isn't. If you never give me anything else, thank you for Patrice." A REAL LOVER.

This whole chapter hit hard honestly. It’ll be a year in a couple weeks since I lost my grandmother. Grief really sneaks up on you. You’re fine one minute then falling apart in the next.

Andrew Garfield said something about grief is just all the love you had for that person having no where to go. (he said it more eloquent than me pls)

The “what is grief , if not love persevering” of it all

Such a good depiction of grief, I love your writing, always something to look forward to.

Amen

Summary: Terry and Patrice learn more about their love through life changing news on New Year’s Eve.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of Death

Inspired By: Ask #1 + Ask #2

MASTERLIST

Grief was a bitch. 

A mean, ugly, unwanted bitch that had settled beside Terry as an unwelcomed guest just when he thought that he'd banished it out of his life, never to return. Over two years of joy that he'd fought tooth and nail to maintain came crashing down once grief came strolling into town without warning. 

Mike was dead. He knew that. He'd reckoned with it, talked himself through the anniversary of his death once before, sent well-wishes to his aunt every time he could, cried in the shadows, mourned, lashed out, and sat in silence with the knowledge that his little cousin would never come through the door again. Mike wouldn't see another birthday. He wasn't around for the wedding or Christmas. They'd never see another football game together. Mike would never meet Nyla. 

That fact came as a sobering realization while Terry watched his only daughter's chest rise and fall as she slept peacefully in her crib for the first time all day. A cold running through her daycare had finally latched on to her fresh immune system, turning his usually jovial baby into a shell of herself. He told his higher-ups that he needed to take the day to care for her in his mother-in-law's stead, but what he really needed was time alone to deal with his uninvited guest. 

Leaning over the sturdy walnut railing keeping his little girl safely inside her crib, he watched her with the ghost of a smile on his lips. Mike would've loved her. Terry was sure of it. He'd make his way to Fayetteville at any opportunity and cause havoc, probably irritating Patrice but definitely doting on Nyla in a way that only he could. 

Tears that had been fighting to see the world all day pricked Terry's eyes yet again. He almost let them fall but found himself blinking them back once Patrice pushed open the door and poked her head inside. 

She smiled despite work wearing her thin and waved with her fingers. "Can I come in, or would that be too much?" 

"Of course, you can," he answered, trying to put on a brave face to hide the true turmoil inside. 

Seeing her stand there, her bright smile directed at him like he was the sun, moon, and stars, was the first time he'd felt anything other than the weight of regret. He needed her to come into the room. 

Tiptoeing, Patrice approached Terry and peered over the crib's railing to look at Nyla. "How was she," she whispered before softly touching her forehead to check for heat. "Doin' any better?" 

"A little. I got her to eat and play for a bit before the medicine kicked in. She should be out for the night and good enough to sit with your mom by the ceremony on Monday. But, we'll see." 

"Good. Thank you for taking the lead. I know she was happy to have you around." She took a second look at her pride and joy, then focused all her attention on Terry. Worry and sadness had found a home on his brow line as they remained furrowed in thought. She leaned her head on his forearm and looked up at him. "And what about my other baby? How was he today?" 

The date wasn't lost on Patrice. She noticed when Terry slowly retreated into himself the week before. She saw him looking at Mike's Instagram when he thought she wasn't paying attention. She heard the conversation with his aunt when he promised to come by and see her the next time he could make it to Baton Rouge, even though she knew that time wasn't coming. Every shift in his demeanor and thousand-yard stare showed that he was reliving a hellish time she couldn't protect him from. 

No amount of soothing could pull him out of his rut. But that wouldn't stop her from trying. 

Terry continued to stare down at Nyla as he answered. "I'm okay. Not too up, not too down." 

"You need anything?" Terry didn't respond with words once he finally tore his eyes away from their daughter to look at Patrice. He only shook his head. "Can I give you a hug at least?" 

His first dose of physical affection for the day felt like the wind was gently placed back into his lungs as Patrice pulled him closer by his shoulders. His hands found her waist first, giving the spot a short squeeze before allowing his arms to fully encircle her body. 

"I love you. You know that?" 

"I know." That was the one thing he was sure of. His heart and mind were splintered into a million pieces, but he knew Patrice was there to help him put each one back in their proper place. His lips found her temple for a lingering kiss as he closed his eyes to ward off the sadness, still trying to take center stage. "I, um…I... didn't have a good day today…" Terry struggled with the words, opening and closing his mouth in hopes that something would come out while Patrice listened to him try to articulate his thoughts. A deep breath and closed eyes helped him settle before he spoke. "I could use some time together. Whatever you have tonight, I'll take it. I know you have to be up early tomorrow, so even an hour is –" 

His words were cut short by a simple kiss on his cheek. Patrice pulled back to look at him and flashed a reassuring smile. "Give me a few minutes to get changed, and you have me for however long you need me. I'll stay up late and everything. Dasia will understand if I cancel my hair appointment for tomorrow."

"I don't want you to do that." 

"We'll play it by ear," she answered to douse the early flames of a disagreement. "Twenty minutes. You can time me." 

Terry nodded in understanding and silently agreed to let Patrice out of his sight when he needed her most. Whether she was gone for 30 seconds or three days, the time away felt slow. 

Terry tried and quickly tired of distracting himself in Nyla's nursery before quietly slipping out and taking the trek to wait for Patrice like a lost puppy.

He settled into the plush velvet chair in the corner and sighed with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Closed eyes heightened his sense of hearing, giving him full access to Patrice's singing in the shower. 

Mike would've loved the Patrice he heard so much about. He'd call her 'big sis' and annoy her the way little brothers do. They'd argue endlessly but still find time for secret handshakes and inside jokes. He'd finally have someone on his side to pester Terry and receive sound advice from when the going got tough. They may have taken him in as their overgrown first child. They could've worked together to get him on the right path and save his life. 

Unfortunately, Terry would never know. The not knowing left the door wide open for sadness to creep back in. 

He breathed deep and tried to will grief away with Patrice's voice as a lullaby in the background. And for a moment, it complied. The dark, heavy cloud slipped off his back and down to his feet with every exhale, lightening the weight on his arms and shoulders until he felt close to a Terry who was safe, sound, and far from the troubles of his past. 

Mike would want that. He'd like to know what Terry had going on as the last person expected to settle down into a family man. He'd probably poke fun at his older cousin for attending birthing classes and fawning over ruffled outfits in Target when what he knew of Terry was brooding, reserved, and quietly menacing. Mike had seen his cousin kick up dust with the worst of them. Seeing Terry as a man who wouldn't so much as cough too loud if his wife or daughter was around would be a sight. 

As grief slowly packed its things and headed for the door, his comfort emerged from the steaming bathroom, looking like a lighthouse in a raging storm. 

Patrice's humming paused once she noticed Terry sitting in the corner. "Missed me," she teased, drawing a small, dry chuckle from her husband as she made her way to their dresser. "You could've joined if you wanted."

"That's alright. I know you need your time to decompress.” He gestured toward the garment in her hand. “Need help with that?"

She could've put her clothes on with no assistance, but Patrice knew that Terry wouldn't have asked if he didn't need the distraction. She granted his covert request for her attention by quickly plucking matching pieces from her sleepwear drawer and placing them in his outstretched hands. 

They spent time in comfortable silence while he slid soft cotton up her legs and then helped her into her shirt, kissing random spots of exposed skin along the way. "I didn't ask about your day. I'm sorry. I got a lot of…other stuff on my mind. How was work?" 

"It was work. Nothing too important. Glad it's the weekend. Two more days, and I get to see my first graduating class of freshmen that I taught. Isn't that crazy? I'm getting old, huh?" She laughed by herself. 

Terry avoided eye contact despite his faint smile, preferring to tie the drawstring at her waist in a neat bow like she preferred. "Never old. Only better."

"You're too sweet." Patrice cuddled him close when he was done and rubbed a spot at the nape of his neck to soothe him into closing tired, heavy lids. "I know it's tough, but I promise you'll be okay, babe. The sadness isn't gonna go away, but you'll learn to live with it. You'll learn to make space for all those feelings inside you at once. And I'll be here when you need someone else to hold some of them, too." 

Terry sighed. "I'm not tryin' to be a burden for you, P. We have enough going on as is." 

"You're not a burden, Terry; you're my husband – my friend."

To be accepted with all of the muddy waters traversing his mind and heart felt like too much to ask for in Terry's mind, especially from someone who'd spent so much time wading through all his bullshit without complaint. He owed her his life, the full weight of his love, until the day God deemed their time together but a beautiful memory forever etched in boxed trinkets and old photos. 

He wanted to give her the moon as she stood stroking his pain away with her fingertips but settled for kissing his way up her sternum on the way to her lips. 

One day, when other emotions had dwindled, and he was feeling more like himself, Terry would lay his head on Patrice's lap and tell her about the atrocities that had shaped the time before they reacquainted. That day wasn't today, and all he could think of was pouring his gratitude for her graciousness into making sure she was satisfied in the one area he could control. 

Shorts that had only been on her body for mere minutes found a new home on the floor alongside her top. Patrice was weightless in Terry's arms as he carried her to their shared bed, his lips attached to hers for needy kisses that felt more like life rafts to keep him above rough waters than affectionate gestures. 

Patrice questioning if he was sure about his actions fell on deaf ears, and soon, all of her inquiries became lost whispers in a room swirling with the sounds of desperate lovemaking. Terry left his mark on her neck and chest while he worked himself out of his clothes. 

His voice came in gravelly against the shell of her ear. "I fuckin' love you, Treece. Don't ever leave me." He was pleading and caught somewhere between raw desire and tremendous despair. "Please, don't ever leave me." 

"I'm not going anywhere, baby," Patrice reassured without hesitation.

Terry left soft kisses and big, salty tears on Patrice's cheeks once their foreheads met. "Please. I need you, Patrice." Grief was back and taunting him in his ear with its partner in crime, Doubt. She'll leave, just like everyone else. You don't deserve her. Lies filled his head with no shut-off valve in sight. The tears turned into sobs he couldn't ignore with breathing techniques or a change in his thought process. "I'm sorry. I just need you. I can't do this by myself. Don't leave." 

Patrice quickly cast amorous feelings aside to wrap her arms tight around Terry. "Woah, woah, TJ. I'm here! I'm right here." 

Grief was a bitch. Even when he threw his best punch at it, grief always hit Terry back with a haymaker that left him staggering and woozy in defeat. 

The moments after his heaving, hyperventilating meltdown became a blur of Patrice's soft-spoken instruction, lavender bubble bath, and candlelight. When he came back from a mental trip to Shelby Springs to live out alternate realities, where he emerged victorious with Mike by his side, he found himself nestled between his wife's legs, surrounded by fresh hot water and scented white foam. 

Patrice moved behind him, plastic crinkling as she peeled the back off of something he couldn't see before bringing her wet hands around to his face. "These'll help with the puffiness," she declared like an experienced esthetician informing a client. "I used to use this every other day in grad school. Cry all you need. No one will ever know by morning." 

A 'thank you' tried to rise from his throat, but Terry quickly found his voice too hoarse to say anything worth a damn. Patrice didn't mind, though. She was content to press another cold patch underneath his eye before grabbing the shampoo rinse cup resting near the baby monitor at the edge of the tub. 

Terry closed his eyes as the warm water washed over his short curls, sitting neatly behind a sharp hairline and tapered sides. His hair glistened under flickering lights provided by small flames in glass components. Patrice used her acrylic nails to work magic against his scalp, turning shampoo into a mountain of suds to cleanse the pain. 

"I swear every time my Nana and mama scrubbed my head, I felt like a new person after. One time, I was going through the worst friend breakup I've ever had, and by the time Mommy finished with me, I didn't even know that girl's name. Didn't even matter anymore." 

"What happens after the scrub, though? You just…go back to normal?" 

Patrice chuckled as she ran another stream of water across his head to start on a second lather. "Hell no. That's where the patches come in." Terry allowed himself his first genuine laugh all day, taking a stone out of grief's stronghold. His fingertips ran back and forth over the wet skin on Patrice's legs as he sat with his eyes closed in a battle for his sanity. They let the quiet ripple of water around them fill the humid air in the room, preferring to enjoy the feel of skin on skin over extraneous conversation until Patrice began running conditioner through each of his thick strands. "I love when you wear your hair like this. The haircuts are nice, but when it's grown out, it reminds me of young you." 

"Hot-headed, couldn't buckle down enough to work through being mad at not getting scholarships to still go to college me?" Terry scoffed, finding the notion of a younger, far less polished him being someone worth missing. 

Patrice shrugged. "I didn't know that Terry," she confessed. The stories of his anger felt like fables to Patrice. The only Terrence Richmond she'd ever known was sweet as homemade banana pudding after Sunday service and a whip-smart boy with the world at his feet. "My Terry and his little fro was always kind. Always noble and lending a helping hand. And now he's got a baby girl in the other room with a head full of her daddy's curls after she looked like Charles Barkley for three months." Terry smiled at the mention of Nyla and how she'd inherited at least one part of him after taking her mother's entire face. Patrice watched him reach for the monitor and bring it closer to his face for a look at his second favorite girl before she continued. "My Terry is who Mike loved. I never met him, but I know he saw the best in you. We all do, baby." 

More silence sat heavy as Terry wiped away fresh tears gathering at his waterline. Of course, they'd see the best in him when he couldn't see the best in himself. 

Grief came knocking again with Doubt in tow, but Terry ignored them to slide deeper into the water and rest his heavy head on Patrice's chest before speaking. "Mike and me…we used to get in a lot of trouble at my granny's house." 

"Yeah? Two badass kids, huh? Tell me about it."

"One time," he started, already smiling at the memory. "We got her beagle, Satchel, sick because we kept feeding him shrimp out of the gumbo. He threw up all over the back porch, and Mike got so scared that he told on us, thinking we wouldn't get the switch if we were honest." 

"Did y'all?" 

Terry laughed and nodded. "Wore our asses out. I hated that damn dog for the rest of his life. It wasn't his fault, but I was just a kid." 

"You knew better, though." 

"Whose side are you on right now?" Terry asked, looking up at Patrice with faux offense on his face. 

She giggled back. "Okay, my bad!" A final round of water cascaded down Terry's shoulders and back, washing the ugly soot of regret off of his grief to reveal the love making up its inner parts. Patrice kissed his wet hair and held her lips there even as she spoke. "Can you tell me more about Mike? I wanna know him through you."

The invitation erupted a dormant volcano deep within his Terry's heart.

He told stories of his cousin and their time together until the lavender-scented bubbles evaporated into tepid bath water. Until grief felt more like gratitude for memories made. Until Patrice's stomach ached from laughter. Until the clock struck midnight, and tears started to roll again. Until Patrice had wiped his entire face with her delicate fingertips several times over without a single inkling of exasperation or judgement while they lay face to face beneath cold sheets. And until she finally closed her eyes from exhaustion and turned her back for some shut-eye. 

Then, he talked to God. A long list of thank you's emerged from his heart. A thank you for keeping him alive, one for time spent with Mike, one for his daughter, and another for the only person keeping him afloat when all he wanted to do was drown. 

Terry looked at Patrice and smiled. Light from the television illuminated her face, highlighting her knitted brow and slight frown as she lay in the throes of a dream he could only imagine was vivid enough to evoke such a clear expression of disgust. The thought alone produced a genuine smile. 

Clicking the power button, Terry found himself in complete darkness, fighting for the words to finish his prayer. He sighed and looked back toward Heaven. "She's perfect, God. Even when she isn't. If you never give me anything else, thank you for Patrice."

"Hm?"

Patrice's groggy response to her name being called made Terry roll over on his side to calm her back into sleep. "Nothing, baby," he spoke into her shoulder before pressing a kiss on her skin. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, earning a content sigh. "I was just praying for you."

She smiled without opening her eyes. "Well, amen to that."

Tears tickled Terry's waterline, this time filled with overwhelming gratitude. A blessing like no other. 

"Yeah. Amen to that."

-----

Reply if you'd like to be tagged in future work!

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @hrlzy @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee @flydotty @aldrigmer444 @ash-ketchumzzz @nayaesworld @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @writingsbytee @teddybeerz @trippyscotch @theogbadbitch @ghostfacekill-monger

[dean-samw67]

can you do cis female reader with sevika in a friends with benefits relationship? maybe smut but lots of angst because reader wants more but sevika is too busy and doesn’t want to commit to a relationship right now. also i love you❤️

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'It's For The Best'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

AFAB!Fem!Reader x Sevika

WARNING: SMUT, ANGST, SWEARING, MINORS DNI

(I love you!! Hope this is up to what you are looking for! It has been quite a while since I have written)

Word count: 2801

The smell of cigarette smoke fills the air as you catch your breath, staring at the ceiling. Glancing next to you after a moment, looking at Sevika with a cigarette in between her forefinger and middle finger. It was always like this. No aftercare or much of anything after sex. Actually, the fact that she stayed for her cigarette is an improvement. Normally she is quick to get her shit and leave. You kind of test the waters and roll over to lay against her chest, arm laying over her stomach. That's when she sits up, pushing you off as she does.

“I got to go.” She says, a little muffled from the cigarette hanging from in between her lips. You let out a groan and sit up, the thin sheet falling off your chest. Sevika grabs her boxers and slips them on, her pants following. You watch her with sad eyes as she moves around the room.

“Sevika-”

“No. You know our agreement. This is nothing more than sex.” She says with a stern look. You bite your lip to keep from saying something stupid. “No strings attached.”

“Right…” You mumble and run a hand through your hair with a sigh. Sevika picks up her shirt and pulls it on in a quick motion.

“You coming back tonight?” You had the tiniest bit of hope in your voice.

“Probably not.” She puts out the cigarette on the ashtray on your bedside table. The one you specifically bought for her.

You go to say something but she’s out the door before you get a chance. Fuck. This is what it has been for a while now. You can’t exactly remember why you agreed to it. It happened by accident really. She was pent up and you really liked her. A lot. So it just happened. Now you are stuck in this loop. You pining while she is only interested in the sex. She said she really couldn’t do a relationship. And you could understand, if it wasn’t for how much it hurt.

You groan as you get out of the bed to head to your bathroom and take a shower. A long one, spending at least an hours wallowing in your sadness before getting out. Your fingers and toes were pruned up from how long you were in there. You step in front of the fogged mirror as you dry your hair, using the towel to swipe at the mirror so you can see yourself.

You look at the way your eyes were red and slightly swollen. You were really down bad.

~~~

A few days later you were back at it. Her hands tangled in your hair as her tongue moved against yours. She was not gentle about it. Her prosthetic hand gripping your hip and pushing your rear end roughly against the wall behind you. All you can do is give in and moan into her mouth.

“Fuck…” The way she muttered that word sent you into a spiral. Her voice was deep and raspy. It drove you insane. Your hips buck forward in an attempt to get some form of friction but her hand held you in place, earning a whimper of need from you. She can’t help but chuckle at the needy sound.

Your whines are replaced by a gasp when she lifts you up off the ground with just her mechanical arm. Your legs instinctively go around her waist and grunt as her body presses you against the wall even more. She bites at your bottom lip, tugging it a bit with her teeth.

She pulls you off the wall finally and in one fluid motion you are on the bed while she is lifting off your top. You stare up at her, pupils dilating as you shift to help her. Your bra is gone just as quick as your top is and her lips are quick to attack the now exposed skin. As soon as you felt her sucking on the skin you knew she was going to leave marks. Deep ones. She knew what she was doing.

“Sevika…” The moan leaves your lips so quick. Her mouth moves over your breasts, leaving marks in its wake. Your hands find the hem of her shirt, tugging it upwards. She assists you, allowing you to get it off. Your eyes trail over her toned stomach and happy trail that stuck out from the hem of her pants. She wore a black sports bra.

She dips her head back down, kissing along the valley between your breasts. Her lips trail your stomach, hands yanking down your pants and panties in a swift motion. You gasp when the air hits your skin and your legs shut instinctively. She pulls your pants off your ankles and looks up with a smirk as she drops to her knees and forces your thighs apart. You look down at her, biting your bottom lip as you felt the way your wetness is now exposed to her.

She chuckles as her hand slides down your stomach and rests just above where you need her most. She glances at you once before her thumb finds your clit causing you to jump and let out a whine of pleasure. “There you go…” Her words are like an electric shock through your body as she touches you.

She always did this. Made you lose control, gasping and moaning, uncontrollably. And she always managed it so quickly. It was almost embarrassing. In an instant her hand is gone and replaced by her mouth, lips latching around your swollen clit. Her hands grasp the back of your thighs and push them up and open more, allowing more access. You squirm as strings of moans leave your lips, your hips bucking against her face.

The soft moans Sevika lets out, sending soft vibrations and increasing the pleasure she gives you. You feel her nails digging into your plush thighs, sure to leave indents.

“Sevika!” The way you moan her name just encourages her to double her efforts. Your legs and body twitch with pleasure. Hand tangled in her short hair, tugging and pulling. If Sevika didn’t know you, she would have assumed you wanted her to stop with how you were pulling. But you were just getting close. She could feel from how the lips of your cunt pulsed against her chin.

Your moans get louder and louder the closer you get to that peak. And she very quickly helped you reach it. Your brain going blank. “Fuck, I love you!” The words slip past your lips without a thought behind them. You were so lost in your haze of pleasure it wasn’t until you came down that you realized what was actually said. Your eyes fly open and you look down, staring at a wide eyed Sevika. “I…” What could you say? You just told her you loved her when your agreement was to be no strings attached.

Sevika huffs and gets up. You sit up fast and grab her arm. “Wait! I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“I should have known.” She mutters

“No, I just was caught up in the moment.” You shake your head, scared she’d walk out, your grip tightening on her arm.

“Was that really it? Or have you been harboring these feelings for a while?” Her look is stern when she finally makes eye contact and you shrink a bit.

You tried to think before saying anything else stupid. “I don’t-”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t actually love me.” She gets in your face while you stare at the ground. You slowly lift your eyes, meeting hers. You couldn’t. “I thought so.” She says when she gets no answer. She pulls away and grabs her shirt.

“Don’t leave, please. We can talk.” You seemed so desperate and you hated it.

“There is nothing to talk about. You want a relationship and I cannot be in one. It's the end of this.” She pulls her shirt on, slipping her arms through.

“Sevika, please.” You get off the bed and rush in front of her. You place a hand on her arm. She grabs your wrist. Not enough to hurt you but enough to stop you and hold your hand away from her. You look at her with sad eyes. She closes her eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath before opening them again.

“No.” Her voice told you everything. She would not budge. This was it. Tears build at the corner of your eyes and she has to look away. She can’t stand to see it. She lets you go, pushing a little, causing you to stumble back enough for her to get around and out of the room. This leaves you standing alone as you listen to the front door open and then slam shut.

You break down as soon as the sound of the slamming door rings through your ears, falling to the floor. You messed up. Of course you did. Friends with benefits never work the way people think it does.

~~~

After that you threw yourself into work. Unfortunately you worked at The Last Drop. Sevika’s regular. But you didn’t see her there like normal. You felt a little sad about it. Never thought she’d give up The Last Drop. Maybe she was avoiding you.

You were closing up, wiping down the tables. You hear the door open and a set of feet walking in. “Sorry, we are closed.” You say before turning around. You are shocked to see Sevika standing there.

“You know, it can be dangerous for women to close alone.” She says, fiddling with her fingers nervously. It was a display you never saw from her.

“Don’t reduce me down to a damsel in distress.” You scoff as you walk to the bar, beer mugs in hand. You lower the mugs into hot soapy water and look back up at her. you grab a clean glass and pour her regular drink and set it on the bar for her as you go back to cleaning.

She walks over slowly, almost like she’s testing the waters of how close she can be to you. She reaches the bar and picks up the mug, sipping the liquids hesitantly.

“I didn’t poison it.” You joke as you wipe down the bar.

“I know…” She wasn’t her usual self. It was almost unsettling.

“Why are you here?” You place your hand on your hip. She takes a few moments to answer you, staring into her drink as she seems to think.

“I don’t know.” She finally mutters, sniffing before looking up at you.

“I thought you were done with me.” You can’t help but be snarky. It is what is keeping you from being miserable.

“I was done with the friends with benefits.” She replies. “You know I can’t do relationships. I can’t do love.” You roll your eyes. Your heart ached from her words knowing the way she feels versus how you feel clashed heavily.

“So what do we do from here?” You ask, focusing your attention on cleaning glasses.

“I don’t know.” Even Sevika felt lost. Her normal confident demeanor was gone. You keep your head down as you listen to her sigh. “Go back to before this?”

“Act like we don’t know each other?” You look up at her, anger crossing your face for a second.

“Maybe it’s best. That way you don’t stay in love with someone who can’t give you what you want and I don’t feel like I am stringing you along.” She shrugs and you feel a wave of different emotions. There is no way she's serious.

“Are you dumb?” You scoff. You cringe at your own words. They weren’t the nicest.

“No. It is best for both of us.” Sevika stands up, anger rising in her voice.

“For you. It’s best for you. You do not get to tell me what is best for me.” You snap as you place your hands on the bar, leaning forward.

“Move on, Y/n. Find someone who can give you what you actually want. Because it’s not me. And you aren’t going to guilt me into giving you what you want because you feel bad for yourself.” She crosses her arms as the conversation gets more heated. “And yeah, I feel bad too. But I am allowed to make this choice for myself. You have no clue what I actually have going on in my life.”

Your eyes soften a bit as you listen. Your face was a mix of pain, anger, and sympathy. She lets out a sigh as she closes her eyes. She felt awful for ever suggesting friends with benefits. She knew it was stupid but Y/n was there when she needed that relief the most.

“So that’s it then?” You ask, your voice cracking a bit as you speak.

“Yes. That is it.” She confirms.

“Right.” You mutter and shake your head. You grab her drink and dump it out, cleaning glasses. “We are closed. Please leave.” Your voice was cold and it shocked her. She looks at you with wide eyes.

“Y/n…”

“Do I know you?” You ask as if you didn’t know who she was. Going back to how it was before they knew each other. Sevika swallows down her emotions.

“No… No, you don’t.” She puts on her normal angry looking face as she turns to leave. You watch as she walks out the door. You let out a shuddering breath as the door shuts and let your body relax, head falling.

~~~

2 years later…

Plenty of time passed. You don’t think you’d ever completely be over Sevika. But it was enough to go day to day. You had attempted to be with other people but it was never the same. Everything reminded you of her. The mark she left on you was permanent.

She was still a regular at The Last Drop and you still worked there. But you both acted as if you had no idea who the other was. Barely even acknowledging each other.

It wasn’t until Sevika saw you with another customer one day. The way you leaned against the table. The way you smiled at this random woman. The way she looked at you. Oh it pissed Sevika off.

She knew she shouldn’t be. She was the one who told you she wanted to end things. But yet she still was.

“Yo, what's got you distracted?” One of the guys she was gambling with says, pulling her attention back.

“Huh?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“It’s your turn.” He motions to the cards. She nods and takes her turn. She had lost which never happens. She was beyond irritated. It’s because of you and that random woman. And she took it upon herself to follow you out when you finish your shift.

“Y/n!” She calls as she catches up. You look up at her and sigh as you look back away in annoyance.

“Can I help you?” You as you keep walking.

“Yeah. What's up with you and that lady back there?” She asks and you look at her with a frustrated and confused face.

“What does it matter?”

“Well, you know… she might be dangerous…” Sevika internally cringes at the shit excuse.

“Fuck off.” You mutter and walk faster but she keeps up.

“Hey, hey, hey. Wait.” She grabs your arm. You shove her off with a glare.

“Have you forgotten you ended things, not me. You have no place to care what I do unless you have changed how you feel about a relationship.” You say angrily. Sevika goes quiet. She knows she hasn’t changed on that. She knows she is not stable enough in anyway to be in a relationship. Probably never will be. But she can’t control the jealousy that bubbles.

“Well…” She sighs and goes quiet.

“Don’t worry. I put my 2 weeks in at The Last Drop. You won’t have to see me anymore.” You say as you start walking again. That threw Sevika off. She follow you quickly.

“What? But where are you going?” She asks with wide eyes.

“I’m not telling you.” You scoff. “Leave it, Sevika. It's for the best, remember?” She stops as she looks at you with a frown. You give her a look before leaving her behind.

~~~

You had started your new job and loved it. It was a small business. You worked with a lot of mechanics. Fixing things. You grasped it quickly. You were fixing a clock when you hear the bell above the door.

“One moment!” You call out. You tighten a screw before getting up and turning around, eyes widening when you are face to face with the customer.

Sevika.

Navigation

[channiesunshinx]

𝐿𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽

Part 1

Pairing: Felix x F!reader Genre: Fantasy, forbidden romance, drama, Angst, Mermaid!Felix x Police officer!reader Warning: Sacrifice and Consequences, Potential Emotional Intensity, Vulnerability/Power Imbalance, Displacement

<--Prologue | Part 2--->

Y/N pulls into the road next to a beach, a warm and relaxing beach that she loves the most. After taking off her shoes, she walks towards the sea water, feeling the crystal clear water gently touching her feet. This is Y/N's safe place. 

Here, she finds comfort, with the breezy wind gently soothing her face. Slowly, she sits down on the sand, feeling the peace and comfort at the moment.

As Y/N sat there, the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore filled her ears. The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. She leaned back on her hands, letting out a soft sigh. It had been a long week, full of chaos and responsibility, and this was exactly what she needed—a quiet moment to herself.

But her peace didn't last long. A glimmer in the water caught her eye. At first, she thought it was just the sunlight reflecting off the waves, but the glimmer moved... deliberately. Y/N squinted, her hand instinctively reaching for the badge clipped to her waistband.

The figure emerged from the water, and for a moment, Y/N froze. What she saw wasn't human. A head crowned with damp, silvery hair peaked above the waves, followed by shimmering scales that glistened like precious gemstones. Wide, curious eyes locked onto hers—eyes that held a mixture of innocence and purity.

“Hello,” the figure said softly, his voice carrying over the gentle crash of the waves.

Y/N blinked, stunned into silence. She wasn't sure what was stranger—the fact that the creature before her was a mermaid or that they were speaking perfect English. The mermaid moved closer, their long, elegant tail swishing behind them, leaving ripples in their wake.

“Are you alright?” the mermaid asked, tilting his head slightly. “You look… tired.”

Y/N finally found her voice. “I, uh… I'm fine. Just… you're a mermaid?”

The mermaid grinned, the corners of their mouth quaking up playfully. “And you're a human,” he replied, as though that explained everything.

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at the cheeky tone. “Fair point. What's your name?”

“Felix,” the mermaid said, his tail flipping out of the water for a brief moment, sending tiny droplets glittering through the air. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” she replied, her voice softer now, the tension in her shoulders beginning to ease. There was something disarming about Felix—something whimsical and otherworldly that made her feel like the weight of her responsibilities could wait, just for a little while.

“Well, Y/N,” Felix said, resting his arms on a nearby rock, “you looked like you could use some company. The ocean can be a lonely place sometimes, but I think the land can be, too.”

Y/N smiled, nodding slightly. She didn't know how long they sat there, talking and exchanging stories, but for the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N felt truly at ease.

—————————————————————————

The city buzzed around Y/N, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the sidewalks. She had just finished a long shift, and her friends had invited her out for a casual hangout. They were gathered at a café in the heart of the city, sipping drinks and laughing as the world moved on around them. It was a welcome break—time to let her guard down after a week of constant duty.

But as the conversation flowed and the warm chatter filled the air, something unusual caught her eye. At first, it was just a blur, a figure moving swiftly through the crowd—a silhouette that didn't seem to belong amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. Y/N squinted, her curiosity piqued.

And then it hit her.

The figure was unmistakable.

Felix.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. What was Felix doing here? He had always been a creature of the sea, never far from the shore. To see them here, on a busy city street, was something she couldn't quite wrap her mind around.

“Excuse me, I'll be right back,” Y/N said quickly to her friends, barely waiting for their responses before she stood up and hurried toward the street.

She pushed through the crowd, her eyes scanning for Felix among the throngs of people. And then, there he was again—standing at the corner, looking confused, almost out of place, like they were trying to figure out what to do in this strange new world.

Felix caught sight of her and froze. his eyes widened in recognition, but there was no smile this time. Only a deep, quiet sorrow.

“Felix?” Y/N called, walking briskly toward them. She noticed how unsteady he was, like a newborn deer trying to walk.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N ask worriedly while grabbing his arm to help him balance 

Felix stumbled slightly as Y/N steadied him, her strong grip grounding him as much as the concern etched on her face. He didn’t resist her help, though his expression was conflicted—his wide, sorrowful eyes brimming with something that looked a lot like regret.

“I had to see you,” Felix said, his voice softer than the dim of the bustling city around them. He looked down at his feet, at the legs that still seemed alien to him, like they didn't belong.

Y/N frowned, leading him to a quieter alley away from the prying eyes of the crowd. “You shouldn't be here,” she said firmly, though her voice betrayed a note of panic. “This isn't safe for you, Felix. How… how did you even get legs?”

Felix hesitated, his gaze darting around like he was searching for the right words. “I made a deal,” he finally admitted, his voice carrying the weight of the decision. “I wanted to see your world. To understand it. To understand… you.”

Y/N's stomach dropped. “What kind of deal?”

Felix's lips quivered into a sad smile. “I gave up my connection to the sea,” he said. “I can't return to it. Not without consequences. But I thought it would be worth it if I could see you again.”

The weight of his words hit her like a wave crashing against a rocky shore. “Felix…” she whispered, her heart breaking at the sacrifice he had made. She reached up, cupping his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing against the cool dampness of his skin. “You shouldn't have done that. You belong there. The sea is your home.”

“I thought you were becoming my home,” he said softly, his eyes searching hers for something—maybe forgiveness, maybe understanding.

Y/N swallowed hard, her emotions tangled and raw. “Come on. We need to get you somewhere safe before someone notices you.”

She hailed a cab and brought him back to her apartment. It was small but cozy, with a few personal touches scattered around—a potted plant by the window, a stack of books on the coffee table. Felix looked around curiously, his movements awkward but his wonder evident.

“I'm sorry if it's not what you're used to,” Y/N said, watching as he awkwardly navigated her world.

“It's perfect,” Felix said, giving her a small smile that sent warmth blooming in her chest.

[cocostyles]

Let her go — Naruto Uzumaki

pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x fem uchiha reader!

word count: 1457 k

summary: You decide to leave Konoha

warnings; angst, english is not my first language.

part one

The days following Naruto's betrayal were a torture. You couldn't leave your house, yet you hated it. You hated that your bed smelled like him, and that every corner of the house held memories of when you were happy, haunting you. You hadn’t spoken to anyone else, not even Sakura, your childhood friend, who you thought was one of the few people who understood the weight of what you were facing. After all, you needed space, a break from everything that reminded you of him and the relationship with the man you thought would become your husband—one that ended when you least expected it.

That’s when you decided to leave the village. Not as an escape, but as an act of self-love. You needed to rest from everything, and most importantly, from him. So, without giving yourself time to regret it, you packed the essentials and left a note for the few who needed to know, including Kakashi, who had always been a father figure and wise mentor in your life. The idea of visiting Temari, an old friend from the Shinobi Alliance, seemed perfect. You knew she would welcome you with open arms in the Hidden Sand Village.

You left the village in the middle of the night, with no turning back.

The weight of guilt began to consume Naruto the moment he heard you were gone. He didn’t understand how it had gotten to this point. He had spent countless nights thinking about how to fix things between you, but always putting it off for tomorrow, for later. And now, "later" didn’t exist, because you were already gone.

That morning, when he entered his office with dark circles under his eyes and red-rimmed lids, the first thing he saw was the note you had left. A couple of lines sealing the goodbye, and between them, a deep pain that pierced his chest like a dagger. "I need some time, Naruto. I need to heal."

The Hokage stared at the letter, his hands trembling as he held it, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stay still while you were slipping away. Rage and pain merged into one feeling: desperation. He had to find you. It didn’t matter at what cost.

Without a second thought, he gave orders to use the village’s resources for an urgent mission. Sasuke, Sakura, and Kakashi would be sent to find you and bring you back—no matter what it took, he thought. He couldn’t lose you.

Before he could act, his three friends arrived at his office. All three looked at him seriously, their faces reflecting the same concern, though the tone of their words was something Naruto didn’t expect.

"Naruto, what are you doing?" Sasuke said firmly, crossing his arms as he approached, letting him know it was one of the stupidest ideas he had ever had, and that was saying a lot.

He wasn’t going to interfere because you had asked him not to, but the fury was boiling in his chest, ready to explode against his best friend. How dare he hurt his sister?

"What are you talking about, Sasuke? She’s gone, your sister! I need to find her!" Naruto replied, his voice shaking with frustration.

Kakashi intervened calmly, seeing Sasuke start to approach Naruto, as he always did, but this time his tone was more serious. He wasn’t happy with his student; you were like a daughter to him, and Naruto had messed up.

"You can’t use the village’s resources like this, Naruto. This isn’t an emergency mission. You need to think carefully before you act. I know lately you seem to be thinking with another head, but calm down and stop acting like a child. Face the consequences of your actions."

Sakura, seeing the chaos in Naruto’s eyes, put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. But her words were harsh, and Naruto felt them like a direct blow, as did all his friends.

"Naruto, you know. You’ve failed, and what she needs isn’t for you to chase her. She asked for space, and you have to respect that. You can’t force her to come back. Sometimes, love isn’t enough to heal what’s been broken. And that’s something you need to understand."

The Hokage was exhausted, emotionally overwhelmed. In his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, about what he had done wrong, about how he had failed you time and again. But those words, as harsh as they were necessary, made him think, even though he didn’t like them. Sasuke, Sakura, and Kakashi weren’t wrong.

"You can’t make her come back to your side just because you want it, Naruto" Kakashi continued, his voice calmer than before but still direct. "She left because she needed space to heal. And if there’s even an ounce of affection for her in you, you’ll have to give her that space, even though it hurts."

Naruto looked at his friends, his face filled with frustration and regret. For so long, he had been so focused on his role as Hokage that he had lost sight of what really mattered. He had taken for granted that the love of his life would always be there, waiting for him. And now that he needed her, he didn’t know how to reach her.

"So, what am I supposed to do?" he asked, his voice broken. "Just let her go? Let her leave without doing anything?"

Sasuke stepped forward, his face impassive, but there was a harshness in his words that left no room for doubt.

"It’s not that you have to do "nothing." But you need to learn to listen, Naruto. Sometimes, being the best ninja in the world doesn’t make you the best man, and it certainly doesn’t make you smart. You have to understand that what she needs now is time, and you’re not going to win her back by pressuring her. You failed yourself by not being there for her when she needed you most. Now, give my sister the respect she deserves at last"

Sakura nodded firmly, looking at Naruto with a bit of sadness in her eyes.

"Do whatever it takes to show you’re capable of changing, Naruto. But don’t do it at her expense. If you really want to get her back, start by being the man she deserves, not the one you’ve been until now."

Kakashi closed the conversation with a serious but conciliatory tone.

"You have to let her go, for now. And when the right time comes, when she’s healed, that will be when you can fight for her again. But not with urgency, nor desperation, but with the maturity you’ve lacked until now."

Naruto stayed silent. He didn’t know if he could bear to wait, but he understood what his friends were telling him. He had to be strong in a different way, a way he had never considered before. And maybe that was the hardest part of all.

With a deep sigh, Naruto nodded slowly.

"Alright. I won’t look for her... but I’m not giving up. I’m going to be better, not just for her, but for me."

Sasuke, Sakura, and Kakashi looked at him without saying anything more, knowing this was the first step. But they also knew that, in the end, only time would tell if Naruto could truly change enough to heal the wound he had caused himself.

And as they walked away, Naruto stayed alone in his office again, staring at the note in his hands. The road to redemption wouldn’t be easy, but at least now he knew he wasn’t alone on this journey.

The desert was vast and silent, but there was something comforting in its immensity. When you arrived in Suna, Temari was waiting for you at the main entrance. Her serious expression softened when she saw you, and without needing words, she hugged you tightly.

"Looks like you need more than just a change of air, huh?" Temari said with a touch of humor, trying to lighten the mood.

"Something like that" you replied with a faint smile, grateful that she wasn’t asking too many questions right away.

Temari took you to her home and, as always, was the perfect host. For the first few days, she let you rest and adapt to the peaceful, hot rhythm of the village. It wasn’t until the third night that you began to open up. You told her what had happened with Naruto, the pain of seeing him distance himself, and finally, the betrayal. Temari listened attentively, and while she wasn’t the emotional type, her presence was a balm for your wound.

"You’re stronger than you think" Temari said in the end. "This doesn’t define you. But you need time to find yourself."

It was then that she suggested you talk to her brother, Gaara. At first, you hesitated, but you remembered that he had always had a unique perspective on life and pain. His own story was a testament to how the deepest wounds could be transformed into something powerful.

Maybe you should try it...

[yanderejustforyou]

The Beginning of the End

Bucky x Reader

The frigid metal of the handcuffs bit into your wrists, each serrated edge a cruel reminder of your confinement. The chill seeped into your skin, mirroring the icy dread that coiled in your stomach. Before you, under the harsh, flickering fluorescent lights of what could have been an interrogation room, stood Bucky Barnes. Or what was left of him. Your eyes, wide and searching, desperately locked with his. The man before you was a phantom, a hollow echo of the Bucky you knew. The Winter Soldier, they called him. The monster, others whispered. But not you. Not ever. He had been your safety, a beacon of strength in a world gone mad. He had been your protector – your friend, and maybe… maybe much more. Now, the very man you had entrusted with your heart stood across the room, distant and unrecognizable as a stranger, as if a ghost, risen from the depths of your shared past, had taken his place.

A tremor ran through you, though whether from cold, fear or heartache, you couldn’t distinguish. "Please," you whispered, voice cracking with a desperate plea barely audible above the monotonous hum of the lights. "I... I need you to fight for me, Bucky. Fight for us." The words, carefully chosen and painstakingly delivered, hung in the air, fragile as spun glass, hoping to pierce the thick armor he wore.

He remained still, a statue hewn not from stone, but from hardened pain. No flicker of recognition, no ripple of emotion crossed his face. He didn't speak, didn't flinch, didn't even seem to breathe. His gaze was like glass, reflecting nothing but the dim light and the cold reality of the moment. The weight of his experiences, his forced actions, all the horrors he'd been through pressed down on him with an unbearable, crushing force, as if he was drowning in the darkness of his past.

His eyes. Once pools of warmth, full of mischievous laughter and unwavering devotion, they were now vacant, empty chasms. The light had long since faded, leaving behind only the shadows of the violence he had been forced to witness, the blood he had been made to spill. The joy and life that had once danced in his gaze were replaced by echoes – whispers of terror and anguish that clung to him like a shroud.

"I can't," he finally said, the words a ragged, broken lament drawn from the depths of despair. His voice was rough, like sandpaper, each syllable scraping against the silence of the room. "I can't fight for you. Not anymore. Not after everything I’ve done." His confession was devoid of inflection, and yet saturated with the weight of his self-imposed condemnation.

His words slammed into you like a physical blow, a vicious slap across the face. You didn't recoil, you didn't flinch. You couldn’t afford to. To show any sign of weakness would be to allow yourself to crumble along with your hopes. “You haven’t done anything," you insisted, taking a hesitant step forward into the space that separated you, your heart pounding a chaotic rhythm against your ribs. "Not since you came back. Not since you remembered who you were." Your voice was stronger now, fuelled by the last vestiges of your hope.

But even as the words left your lips, denial battling with your internal truth, you felt it. The chasm between you widening, expanding into a gulf both vast and unbridgeable. His pain was too profound, his guilt too suffocating. There was simply no space left in his tormented world for you, not in the way you needed, not in the way you had believed.

He met your gaze again, those haunted, hollow orbs searching your face, and for a fleeting, agonizing moment, a flicker of something sparked in their depths – a whisper of regret, a faint shadow of the man you knew still buried beneath layers of torment.

But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, snuffed out by the darkness that had claimed him.

"I... I was never yours to begin with," Bucky said, his tone now laced with a cold, cutting detachment that pierced through your heart and soul. "You need to stop pretending. Stop hoping for a happy ending that doesn't exist.” Each word was like a shard of ice, lodging itself deep within your chest, freezing over the remains of your hope.

The truth, hard and unforgiving, hit you with the force of a wrecking ball. Your hands trembled uncontrollably, your breath caught in your throat, snagged on the sharp edges of his devastating pronouncement. Tears threatened to spill, to flood the room with your pain, but you refused, clenched your jaw tight, refusing to give into the anguish that threatened to consume you. Not here, not now.

"I don't care what you think," you declared, your voice trembling, but edged with a defiant strength that surprised even you. "I love you, Bucky. And I will never give up on you." Your words were a desperate attempt to throw a lifeline across the growing abyss.

He remained unmoved, unyielding, impervious to your declaration. Instead, he turned away from you, the back of his head now the only image you could see, as if you had simply ceased to exist. You became invisible, erased from his world.

And in that moment, a profound, soul-crushing realization washed over you. Deep within, you knew, with an unwavering certainty, that you were standing on the precipice of an irreversible change, an unyielding descent into the abyss. There was no turning back. No way to save him. No way to stop the freefall that threatened to drag you both into oblivion.

And as the heavy metal door clanged shut behind him, the sound echoing into the silence and the cold, leaving you alone in the dimly lit, suffocating room, a piece of you shattered into a million fragments. Your heart, once whole and full of unwavering hope, now lay scattered at your feet, tiny, broken bits of what once was. You knew then, with a bone-deep certainty, that this was the beginning of the end. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

It had been days. Weeks, maybe. Time had lost all meaning. All you knew was the ache—the hollow, empty ache that had settled deep inside of you since Bucky walked away. Since you had realized the truth, whether you wanted to or not: he would never be yours. Not in the way you needed him to be. Not in the way you loved him.

And it hurt more than you could ever express.

But you refused to give up. No matter how deep the wound, you couldn’t walk away. You couldn’t just leave him like that—lost, alone, consumed by the darkness that he couldn't escape.

So, you found yourself at his doorstep again, your heart pounding in your chest, your hands shaking from the nerves, from the fear that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. Maybe this time, you’d find a way to reach him.

The door opened before you could even knock, revealing him—Bucky Barnes, the man who had been your world, standing there in front of you, the same distant, haunted look in his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine.

You took a step forward, feeling the weight of the decision, the finality of everything crashing down on you. "I’m here because I love you," you said, the words trembling on your lips but clear and true. "And I will never stop."

He let out a bitter laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "You’re wasting your time," Bucky said, his voice colder than ice. "I’m broken. I don’t get to be loved."

"Don’t you dare say that," you snapped, your voice rising with desperation. "You are not broken. You're healing. You’re just—" You stopped, swallowing the lump in your throat. "You’re just lost. But I’m here. I’m right here."

The silence that stretched between you felt suffocating. His gaze never left the floor, and his jaw clenched as though he was trying to fight off the surge of emotion that he couldn’t suppress.

"You think I don’t know what I’ve done?" Bucky’s voice cracked, his hands shaking at his sides. "You think I don’t feel it every second? The blood, the people I’ve hurt... killed... It’s a part of me now. And I don’t get to just forget that. I don’t get to wake up and act like everything’s okay."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out, your hands trembling as you touched his arm. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away. But he didn’t reach for you, either.

"Bucky..." you whispered, your voice breaking. "You’re not what they made you. You’re not a monster. You’re still you."

He closed his eyes, a deep breath escaping his lungs like a man drowning. "I don’t know if I am anymore," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know who I am. But I know one thing... I can’t be what you need me to be."

The pain in his words, in the finality that laced them, crushed you. And you realized, with a sickening certainty, that no matter how hard you fought—no matter how much you loved him—he couldn’t be saved. Not by you. Not by anyone.

"Please, don’t say that," you whispered, tears streaming down your face now. "Don’t leave me, Bucky. Not like this. We can fix it... together."

But there was no fixing it. There was no coming back from the place he had fallen into. You knew it. He knew it.

And in the silence that followed, you realized that you were both doomed.

He turned away from you, walking toward the door, and you couldn’t bring yourself to follow him. You couldn’t chase after him anymore.

"Goodbye, (Y/N)," Bucky said, his voice thick with pain, his footsteps heavy as he disappeared from your life once more.

The door closed with a soft click, but the sound rang in your ears like the final nail in the coffin.

And just like that, everything was over.

You stood in the middle of the empty room, your heart shattered, your soul laid bare. You had given everything, fought for him until there was nothing left. But in the end, you had failed.

And he was lost. Forever.

The months that followed were a blur, a watercolor painting left out in the rain. Time warped and stretched, a distorted landscape of empty days and sleepless nights. You tried to move on, actively picking up the jagged, glass-like shards of your heart, attempting to piece them back together with trembling fingers. You tried to build something, anything, from the wreckage, to create a semblance of normalcy. But the foundation was unstable, forever shifted. The world had lost its vibrant hues, muted into shades of gray. The laughter of others sounded tinny, their joy almost mocking. Not without him. The scent of his cologne lingered on your clothes, in your memories, a ghost of a touch that sent shivers down your spine, both a comfort and a fresh wound. You'd catch yourself reaching for your phone just to look at old texts, his name a bittersweet torture on your lips whenever you whisper it.

And you knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that you would never forget him. The echo of his voice, the crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he almost smiled, the way his calloused hand felt in yours - these were etched into your soul. You would never stop loving him, even if it consumed you from the inside out, corroding your very being. Because, in the end, that was the curse, the cruel irony of loving someone like Bucky Barnes. It was a love that felt both celestial and impossible, a star you were forever reaching for, knowing you could never truly grasp it.

It was a love that would never be returned. Not in the way your heart yearned for, the way your soul craved. Not in the way you dreamed, those fantastical scenarios playing on repeat in the theater of your mind - gentle smiles exchanged in the quiet of the evening, shared meals, whispered secrets. Not in the way you needed, with the desperate, aching hollowness that had taken up residence in your chest. The need to be seen, cherished, to have him see the whole of you, not just the flawed, broken parts.

Months passed, each day a slow, excruciating climb, and then, you saw him again. In the chaotic symphony of New York streets, amidst the cacophony of honking taxis and hurried footsteps, he appeared, a phantom returned to haunt your waking hours. He didn’t see you at first, his gaze focused, intense, scanning the surroundings. His expression was detached, cold as the winter winds, his familiar face a mask of controlled indifference. He moved with a purpose that hadn’t been there before, a hard edge that hadn't been there before. And for a brief, agonizing moment, you considered walking away, letting this fleeting apparition fade back into the crowd, setting him free and, in turn, freeing yourself – or so you hoped. A sigh bubbled in your throat, a melancholic whisper, but your feet were rooted, tethered to him by an invisible thread.

But you couldn’t. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of your resolve. You couldn’t bear the thought of letting him go, even if it meant enduring more pain.

Bucky turned then, his eyes locking with yours, the collision like an electric shock. For a split second, a flicker of recognition, a spark of the man you once knew, a glimmer of warmth. But then, the walls shot up, the mask slammed back into place, his face becoming unreadable, a fortress of stoicism. He studied you, his gaze dark and assessing, like he couldn't quite believe you were real.

"Why are you still here?" he asked, the words sharp, almost accusatory, yet his eyes betrayed the hardness, mirroring the torment that lived within you. There was a deep sorrow lurking behind the ice, an echo of the pain you both carried. There was always pain. It was a constant companion to a man like Bucky.

"I..." you choked, swallowing the lump in your throat, the words catching like thorns. The familiar ache of longing tightened your chest, making it difficult to breathe. "I can’t stop loving you, Bucky. And I don’t know how to live without you." You practically whispered the confession, the truth pouring out of you like a broken dam.

His expression hardened further, becoming a mask of pure steel. His hands clenched into fists, his jaw tightening like the pressure of an iron vice. "You should’ve let me go. You should’ve walked away the first time. It was never meant to be, (Y/N). I’m not the man you think I am. I’m broken. I'm dangerous." His voice was a low growl, filled with a self-loathing that sent a shiver of dread down your spine. He was pushing you away, protecting you from the ugliness he saw within himself.

"I don’t care," you said, your voice barely a whisper, the desperation weighing down every syllable. "I don’t care if it’s not perfect. I don’t care if it’s impossible. I will love you until the end, Bucky. Even if it kills me." You met his gaze, pleading for him to see the sincerity behind your words, the unwavering devotion you felt for him.

He turned away then, and you saw the way his shoulders tensed, the way his muscles rippled under his jacket, as if he was bracing himself for the weight of your words, the crushing burden of your love. He didn’t speak again, didn't even glance back, his figure quickly swallowed by the sea of bodies. He was gone, leaving you standing there, alone in the cold, harsh reality of your broken heart. The noise of the city seemed to fade into a dull drone, mirroring the numbness that crept over you.

You knew, with a gut-wrenching certainty, that you were doomed to carry this love with you forever, an anchor that would both keep you grounded and drag you under. That you would never find peace, not with him, not without him. The prospect of a future without him was barren, colorless, a wasteland of unfulfilled hopes and shattered dreams.

And yet… despite the bleakness of it all, you would never stop trying, clinging to the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, one day things might change. It was a foolish, stubborn, and utterly human thing to do.

But deep down, a cold voice whispered a truth you couldn't ignore. A truth that settled like a heavy weight upon your soul.

There was no happy ending waiting for you and Bucky, no fairytale closure or blissful reconciliation.

There was only pain. And the unending, agonizing acceptance of it.

[munsonsmixtapes]

It’ll Be Our Little Secret

This is my first time writing something like this for Billy so please be gentle with me!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) spanking, degradation, use of the words slut and whore, hurt/no comfort

The boys’ locker room is empty when you enter it. You feel weird being there, but Steve told you to meet him by the door after school so he could give you a ride home. But he’s nowhere to be found. No one’s there, but you’re still worried that you’re going to see something you shouldn’t. You don’t know why though since it’s not something you haven’t seen before.

You’ve got a reputation around Hawking for being a “good girl” even though you haven’t been one of those in a long time. It’s only because you don’t really party and no one ever sees you drink or do drugs. But if they could see what you get up to behind closed doors then maybe the rumors would stop.

You get further into the locker room and stop when you hear water running, steam coming from the other side. You figure it’s just Steve and he forgot to tell you he was taking a shower, so imagine your surprise when you see Billy Hargrove where you think your friend should be.

His back is turned but you just know it’s him by the hair. As soon as you catch sight of his ass, you turn on your heel even though you want to look a little longer. You don’t like him but you can appreciate a good ass when you see one. But now you’ve got to get out of here before he sees you.

“Hey, pretty girl,” you hear from behind you and you cringe at the nickname. You’ve hated Billy Hargrove since the moment you met him and that’s not going to change anytime soon. You’ve seen the way he treats women and that’s always left a bad taste in your mouth. You honestly can’t comprehend why any woman would willingly sleep with him and why they all seem to be thirsting over him when guys like Steve are right there.

“What do you want, Hargrove?” You snap as you turn around, crossing your arms over your chest. It’s a shame too because Billy was hoping he could sneak a peek at your tits before you noticed.

“I could ask you the same question,” he says as he turns around fully, his entire crotch on display for a few seconds before he covers his waist with a towel. “You are aware that this is the boys’ locker room, right? Didn’t peg you for a perv, but I think I could be into that.”

“I was looking for Steve.” You’re glaring at him now, really wishing it was Steve you had walked in on despite how awkward that would have been.

“Right, your little boyfriend.” The words are said so bitterly and you know exactly why. Billy hasn’t exactly been quiet about how badly he wants to fuck you. But you know it’s only to cross you off some sort of list, not because he actually wants to.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You don’t know why Billy saying that Steve is your boyfriend bothers you so much, but it does.

“Well, isn’t it my lucky day?” He’s stepping closer to you know and you’re backing away, deciding that it’s best to just leave and not encourage his behavior.

“It’s not, actually. Because I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on earth.” Billy’s eyebrows shoot up And then he lets out a laugh.

“Slow down, no one said anything about fucking, doll. But I think I could change your mind. I mean, I know you’ve thought about me naked.” You would never tell him that you actually have. You would never tell him that you’re actually thinking about it right now, his cock becoming even more visible as you glance at it as quickly as possible, not wanting to get caught.

“Caught you,” he says, stepping forward and pressing his body against yours so you can feel his erection against you. You try not to think about how badly you want it inside of you, how you want him to pin you against the shower wall and fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you glare, so close to letting your guard down and just tell him what he wants to hear because it’s the truth.

“I know you were looking at my cock,” he smirks, his hands moving down to your ass. “I can show you if you want.”

There has to be some sort of catch. You’re sure of it. Because Billy isn’t one to do anything out of generosity. Everything comes with a price and you’re willing to pay.

“Show me then,” you command, batting your eyelashes at him in an attempt to be flirty. He makes a show out of it, reaching up and slowly opening the towel to show you his rock hard cock for only a few seconds before wrapping it back around his waist.

That’s it. You need him and you need him now. The image of him is burned into your brain and you need him inside you even though you’re pretty sure he was showing you what you can’t have because he’s a dick.

“Wow,” you tell him, pulling him to you as you reach up and fiddle with one of his curls. “I think that’s the best cock I’ve ever seen.” For once, you’re not using a line and Billy seems to know that because before you can make sense of what’s happening, he’s pushing you against one of the shower walls, his hands sliding up your dress to your panties.

“You want it?” He asks and you nod enthusiastically, the whole thing making you feel dizzy. He pushes down your panties and they pool at your feet as he digs his fingers into your hips, taking no time to pound into you over and over, his whole cock sliding inside you again and again, pulling the prettiest moans from your mouth.

It’s so painful because of the size of him but he just feels so good that you don’t want him to stop. Your arms go to his neck while you wrap your legs around his waist, giving him more access and he takes advantage, holding his cock there for a few seconds to see just how long you can take it.

“Look at you, taking it like the little slut you are. Never pegged you for a whore, doll, but I actually think that makes you even more hot,” he tells you through labored breaths and you never thought Billy was even capable of giving out compliments.

You’re too out of it to think. This whole thing has made you stupid and now you finally understand what people mean they they say that someone fucked their brains out. It’s all mush now, but you don’t even care. It’s only been a few minutes, but this is the best sex you’ve ever had.

“Does Harrington fuck you like this?” He asks, then lets out a laugh. “Bet he doesn’t. He only likes missionary.” You’ve never slept with Steve, but you also know this to be true.

“Wouldn’t know,” you reply. “I’ve never fucked him.” This surprises Billy but he hides it well. He can’t believe that Steve’s never fucked you and kinda likes that he beat him to the punch.

“Good. You’re too good for him anyway.” You’re caught off guard by his words and apparently so is he because his mouth dropping open matches your expression. But he wipes his off first, pounding into you ever harder until your clenching around him, your eyes shut tight as you come. Your back arches as Billy holds onto you, fucking you absolutely senseless as you come.

Once you come down, Billy pulls out and sets you back on the floor before pulling your panties up. He then gives your ass a hard smack which makes you gasp before he sends you on your way, but not before telling you that it’ll be a secret just between the two of you.

He���ll never admit that that was the best sex he ever had nor that he maybe, kind of, sort of…likes you. He won’t even admit it to himself. He’ll tell himself that it’s just because you’re the only person besides his sister that doesn’t take any of his shit, and yeah, sure that’s part of it. But you’re also pretty and smart. You’re also the only person Billy’s ever liked like that. And you also will never return his feelings so what’s the point? Billy is many things, but a person who has unrequited feelings isn’t one of them. He’s never been that and he’s most certainly not going to start now.

[rebelliousstories]

‘Cause She Walks like a Saint

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Drinking, Mentions of Rude Behavior Towards Women

Word Count: 1,342

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: A Cajun thief walks into a bar…

Consider Donating Here

“Where’s the Cajun going?” Wolverine called, watching a figure leaving the school.

“Who knows with him?” Cyclops commented, cutting his eyes over as well.

“Maybe he’s finally found a life outside of this school, unlike some of us.” Storm retorted, taking about sip of her tea.

And found a life, he did. Remy did not care to tell the rest of his friends about this. He suspected that the professor knew about it, but it was futile to keep anything from him. That did not matter to him though. For now, he had his secret life that no one needed to know about.

As Remy made his way up to the doors of the club, he smiled as he saw the bouncer up there. “Ah, Dave, mon ami.”

“Gambit, good to see you. She’s inside. Was wondering when you were gonna show up.” He replied, shaking the mutants hand.

“Couldn’t leave her alone for too long now, could I?” After shaking the bouncer’s hand, Remy stepped inside the doors of the club.

Inside, it was a wonderful place to hide and get away. Dim lighting coupled with colorful strobes, and neon signs that caught your eye. Yeah, this was a neat little place. Girls were dancing all around; some in cages, others on platforms. But there was only one go-go that he had his eye on.

Making his way over to the back bar, Remy got himself a quick drink of some Louisianan whiskey, before heading over to a small table. Seating himself near the back corner stage, he did not make any move closer to said stage. Just sat in the back, sipping his whiskey, and watching the show.

The woman on stage just mesmerized him. How she managed to move like that was beyond him. But that combined with her cute little outfit, it made Remy sigh. But, at least for the first hour or so that he would come in, Gambit would just sit and nurse his drink while he watched. Sitting here allowed him to things; the time to decompress, and to think.

If he sat there long enough, he could remember the first time that he came here. Years ago, back before he committed himself to the X-Men and he was running around doing what he did.

Stalking inside after having to pay the stupid cover fee, Gambit was already hating tonight. The Thieves Guild better appreciate his sacrifice. Not only had he come all the way to New York to make this deal, but he had to come into a go-go club to do it.

His only saving grace was the fact that the bar sold J.T. Meleck. Settling into his seat near one of the back stages, Gambit kept an eye on the door for his contact to show up. But as the hours ticked on by, he felt the anger begin to creep up in him. If there was one thing he hated, it was being kept waiting.

Before Remy could be bothered to get up and go get another glass to calm himself, someone walked up to his seat. A beautiful girl, wearing a shiny magenta two piece, and matching go-go boots. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders as her jewelry clanked against itself.

“Hey there, big guy. Whatcha doing here all alone?” She purred, leaning closer to him across the table.

Being as near as she was, there was an undeniable sparkle in her eyes. Something there that was teasing yet innocent. “Jus’ waitin’ on a friend, chere.”

“Want some company till that person gets here?” Not waiting on an answer, the mystery woman planted herself in the chair right in front of his. Remy just chuckled as he watched her. “What’s your name, pretty boy?”

“Dey call me da Gambit. What ‘bout you, chere?”

“Everyone calls me Doll. But I think I might like chere more.” Her giggle reached his ears and it sounded like bliss. If only he could get her to make that sound more often.

“Anythin’ you wish, ma chere.” Remy took another sip of his liquor, focusing more attention than he should have on her. So much so, that he did not notice the man he was supposed to be meeting show up. Not until that man dared to touch her. Grasping one of her arms, he held her in such a fierce grip that she began to protest.

“Get lost, tart. We’ll employ your services later.” He dismissed her, tossing her aside like yesterday’s newspaper.

“Ow!”

“Hey!” Remy snapped, standing up to his full height. “Now, maybe da Gambit don’ know how you do things up here cause he from Bayou country. But I don’ think dats how you treat da ladies in New York either.”

“Oh relax,” the man rolled his eyes as he turned back to Remy, “these girls are a dime a dozen. Ain’t gonna have much trouble finding some more for later.”

With a chuckle, Remy stuck his hands inside his coat pockets. “Maybe I didn’ speak clear ‘nough for ya. Treat a lady of any status like dat in fron’ o’ me again, and dat’ll be da last thing ya do wit’ dat hand.”

“And what are you gonna do about it, Cajun?” The idiot sneered, letting go of the woman with such a fury as he stepped into Remy’s space. But the man did not care too much about something like this. No… LeBeau had no reason to fear. Getting even closer to the man, he pulled out a single playing card and held it between them.

“Da Gambit does dis… boom!” With a final whisper, the card exploded between them, sending the New Yorker flying across the room. Ignoring the shouts of the other patrons, Remy stepped across knocked over chairs and tables to hoist the man up by his jacket. He dug his hands around in the pockets of said jacket, before finally pulling what he needed from it.

A pouch of jewels that his Thieves had been looking for a long time for. Maybe not something that you would normally go to the other end of the country for, but this was stolen from them. And anyone who was bold, or stupid enough to steal from the Thieves Guild deserved an in person meeting.

“I’m sorry to cut our night short, chere,” came Remy’s solemn tone. He turned to face the dancer behind him again. “You not hurt, are ya?”

“No. Thank you, Gambit. He usually comes in and doesn’t make a fuss.” She shrugged, rubbing her arms. After the shock had worn off, the music was back up to full volume, girls and boys were dancing, and the man was being escorted out by the bouncers.

“Is alright. Till we meet again, ma chere. And trust da Gambit, we gonna meet again.” Collecting her hand in his, Remy pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Waving, he left upon the breeze as fast as he entered.

And Gambit was sure to keep his promise. Almost a year had passed, and he was still as infatuated with his dancer as ever. He had lost count as to how many times he had come to see her here, even excluding the times before they were dating.

“Hey there, big guy. Whatcha doing here all alone?” A voice broke him free of his trance. Instead of on the stage, the woman was standing near his chair, tracing fingers over the edges of it.

“Jus’ waitin’ on a friend, ma chere.” Remy smiled, taking another sip of his drink.

“Oh, are you now? Care for some company?” Now, her nails trailed over his shoulders.

“Always if it’s yours.” With a grin, she happily slid over into the empty seat, falling into the routine they knew so well. While he ordered her a water, she just enjoyed her break. It was always a treat to have her lover with her, even if he said very little. Even after all this time, he was still entranced by her, and she loved it.

[yanderecrazysie]

Just the Way You Are (Yandere! Hinata)

Requested on Quotev.

I love writing chubby reader because I’m chubby myself and there isn’t enough content out there for us lol

Title: Just the Way You Are

Pairings: Yandere! Hinata Shoyo x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, chubby reader, lots of insecurities

“When I see your face

There's not a thing that I would change

'Cause you're amazing

Just the way you are

And when you smile

The whole world stops and stares for a while

'Cause, girl, you're amazing”

-from “Just the Way You Are” by Bruno Mars

The gymnasium was not your favorite place to be. 

You fidgeted with the hem of your uniform shirt, feeling uncomfortable in the presence of so many tall, athletic boys. You had already pulled your skirt waistband up so that it would push your stomach in a little, but there was no way to hide your chubby cheeks and the flab you had on your arms.

You leaned back on the stands so that your back lay against the higher benches. Not very comfortable, but looking at the ceiling made you less insecure than looking at guys with clear six-packs or thin frames.

The whistle blew, signaling the end of practice, and footsteps rapidly approached you. You sat up and smiled shyly when you recognized your childhood best friend.

“You waited for me!” Hinata sounded surprised, his orange hair drenched with sweat. He sounded a little out of breath, but not too exhausted. If anything, he looked as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever.

“I always do,” you laughed, “Now, let’s go.” You didn’t want to stay here any longer than you had to.

Hinata nodded, his face lighting up in a smile as bright and beautiful as the sun, “I’ll grab my bag!”

You walked to the entrance and waited there. You stared at the ground when the other volleyball players walked by. 

What did Hinata see in you? Why didn’t he want to hang out with the rest of his team? They shared his love of volleyball and were athletic, after all.

“Ready?” Hinata asked, jolting you from your thoughts. You nodded and the two of you began the long walk home. The two of you both lived in the same neighborhood, which is how the two of you met. He had convinced you of Karasuno High’s awesomeness and you figured the bike rides would help you lose a few pounds. But no matter what you did, the weight stubbornly stayed.

Hinata always walked with a spring in his step, but he was so close this time that your shoulders brushed occasionally. He looked at you sideways and said, “Thanks again for waiting for me. I know you don’t really like volleyball all that much.”

It wasn’t so much the sport that bothered you, but you were too embarrassed to say that to him. “It’s okay, I like waiting for you, even if it’s a sweaty gym.”

The two of you walked in silence. You could tell by the way Hinata side-glanced at you frequently that he had something to say. There was no need to rush him, you decided, waiting for him to decide the right time to speak.

“You know, I’m really glad you waited there for me,” Hinata said softly, avoiding your gaze, “Like, really glad.”

Your cheeks grew warm, “All I do is sit there.”

“Exactly!” he said, spinning around to walk backwards in front of you, “You don’t have to do anything! Just you being there makes it easier for me to play!”

“I don’t see how,” you said, feeling like your face was on fire from how embarrassed you were.

“You are-” Hinata started, but he cut off as he ran into something, the consequences of walking backwards.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot,” Kageyama scoffed as Hinata jumped about a mile after realizing he had backed into his new teammate.

Kageyama’s steely eyes turned to you and softened, “I saw you waiting at our practice. What’s your name?”

You gave him your name, squirming a little under the gaze of someone so intense. You knew the two of them didn’t currently get along very well, but that Kageyama had “gotten better since junior high”. Whether that was about his volleyball skills or his attitude or both, you weren’t sure.

“You into volleyball?” Kageyama asked and, before you could answer, he suggested, “Maybe you could come to one of my weekend practices. You could play the spiker.”

You were surprised by the invitation and were about to accept, when you saw Hinata out of the corner of your eye. His sunny disposition had disappeared, like clouds blotting out the sun. His eyes were narrowed to slits, glaring a hole into Kageyama’s head.

“Yea- No.”

Kageyama was confused, “Yes or no?”

“No. Sorry.”

Kageyama shrugged, “Let me know if you change your mind.”

As he continued on his way, Hinata glared after him until the ravenette was out of sight. 

“You just let him flirt with you!” he hissed.

“Flirt?” you were genuinely surprised, “That was flirting?”

Hinata pouted for a moment, his cheeks puffed full of air, before he let out the breath he’d been holding and calmed down, “Of course he was flirting!”

“No one would flirt with me,” you laughed hollowly, “I’m too f-”

Hinata grabbed you by the shoulders, his pupils blowing wide as he pulled you closer, “Don’t. Even. Say. It.”

You looked at him, stunned by his change in demeanor, but let him finish.

“You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, with or without makeup. It’s not just me that thinks so either- you don’t understand the stares that follow you down the hall- but I do! And I can’t stand it! Of everyone in the entire world, I’ve only ever wanted you!”

You stared at him in silent shock. Hinata… thought you were beautiful? 

“Don’t talk to Kageyama ever again,” he warned, “Or I might do something we’ll both regret.”

From the expression on his face, you were pretty sure he wasn’t bluffing. 

Still, he liked you. Thought you were beautiful.

And in the end, that was all that mattered to you.

[chrissturnsfav]

Can you do a fic about you going on a date with a guy you met, and you go on this date and have to call Chris to save you in the middle of it because the guy starts to make you uncomfortable. Chris ends up confessing his love for you and you do the same ?

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘

chris comes to your rescue after a discomforting date, confessing his love to you.

ᰔᩚ fluff, kissing

ᰔᩚ w.c. 777

you thought it might be nice to try something new. dating apps were an experiment, and swiping through profiles felt more like a game than anything serious. when ryan asked you out, you figured, why not? his messages were clever enough, and he seemed normal—or at least, normal enough.

but now, sitting across from him at this dimly lit bar, you're regretting every decision that brought you here.

his jokes are off. not funny, just off. the kind that make your skin crawl, like he’s testing boundaries just to see how far he can push them. you fake polite laughs at first, but it only seems to encourage him.

then there’s the way he keeps leaning in, closing the space between you like he’s daring you to pull back. your drink sits untouched while you nod along to whatever he’s saying about himself—something about his ex, or maybe his job.

why the fuck was he telling you about your ex? absolutely not.

your phone feels heavy in your pocket, a lifeline you’re too nervous to grab. when he brushes your arm, the touch lingers just a second too long, and that’s it for you.

"excuse me," you mumble, slipping out of your chair. "just gonna use the bathroom."

in the cramped stall, you fumble for your phone, your hands shaking slightly as you type out a message to chris.

you hey can u call me?? this date is fucking horrible i need out read, 8:34 pm

the three dots appear almost immediately.

chris wya? read, 8:34 pm

you send the address. no hesitation.

chris i'm on my way j relax for now kid read, 8:35 pm

you exhale, leaning against the stall door. it’s going to be fine. chris always has your back.

back at the table, ryan’s irritation is thinly veiled behind a smile. "you okay? thought you ditched me for a second there."

"just a quick call," you say, forcing a smile. your phone buzzes on cue.

"sorry, gotta take this." you step away again, answering without hesitation.

"i’m outside," chris says, voice calm and steady.

the relief is instant. "okay, thanks, be right there."

you grab your bag, muttering an apology to ryan. "friend emergency. i have to go, i'm sorry."

he starts to protest, but you’re already heading for the door, your heart pounding as you step outside and spot chris sitting casually in the driver's seat.

"hey," he says once you climb into the passenger seat, his eyes scanning you like he’s making sure you’re really okay.

"hey," you reply, and just like that, the tension eases.

the car smells faintly of his cologne, familiar and grounding. "what happened?" he asks as he pulls onto the street, his tone neutral but his grip on the wheel firm.

"he was...weird," you say, shrugging. "too much. i didn’t feel safe."

chris nods, jaw tightening. "idiot," he scoffs.

you glance at him, surprised. "what?"

"him," he clarifies, glancing at you briefly. "for thinking he could get you."

you laugh, a short, nervous sound. “c'mon. it’s not like that.”

he doesn’t respond right away, just keeps driving. finally, he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment and turns to face you, one arm draped over the steering wheel.

"nah, it is like that," he says, voice low but steady. "you deserve better. someone you didn't randomly meet on tinder, who probably just wants to fuck. need someone who actually sees you."

you blink, unsure how to respond. "chris..."

he shakes his head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "i mean, i’ve been your best friend for years, and i’ve tried to play it cool, but i kinda can’t anymore."

the words hang in the air, heavy and electric.

"say something," he says, his confidence faltering just slightly.

you stare at him, heart pounding. "i think...i’ve been waiting for you to say that."

his smirk softens into a real smile, the kind that makes your chest ache in the best way. "yeah?"

"yeah."

he leans in, slow enough that you can stop him if you want to, but you don’t. when his lips meet yours, it’s not rushed or hungry like all the other kisses you've experienced with men you've met on dates. it’s warmth, steady and sure, like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

when he pulls back, his eyes are brighter, his smile a little smug. "took you long enough," he scoffs.

you laugh, shaking your head. "shut up and drive me to get ice cream."

he chuckles, throwing the car into reverse. "whatever you want."

and for the first time all night, you feel completely at ease.

thank you for reading!! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart

@chrissturnsfav ™