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hollandorks · 23 hours

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haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

interlude three

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: I'm alive!!! I don't want to talk about how long it's been since the last chapter because it's a little bit embarrassing. Anyways, I'm back! Hopefully! So here's a brief little Bruce POV to hold you over until the next real chapter, which should hopefully only be a week or two maybe? (Also, I apologize in advance....)

Series Masterlist

word count: 1.2k

Despite everyone who was trying hard to keep her alive, y/n felt utterly alone.

Bruce's POV

“Bruce, my dear boy, I don’t tell you often enough, but you are…so stubbornly stupid it makes me feel twice my age.”

Bruce startled and whirled around to face Alfred. The older man was leaning casually along the work station where Bruce’s video equipment was, his cane next to him, legs crossed at the ankles.

Bruce opened his mouth and then closed it again.

It was noon now, and he still hadn’t been to bed. He’d been out late staking out Maverick’s again, hoping to catch a lead on Frank Gallo or anyone that could lead him to the man, when Alfred’s call had come. Security breach. Elevator. The panic had almost killed him. Alfred’s next call came in when Bruce was almost home, telling him that everyone was safe. So he had changed direction and left to clean himself up to make an appearance as Bruce instead.

And still the fear lingered. Someone had been in his home, feet away from y/n, and he had yet to find any proof of how they had done it.

He wouldn’t–couldn’t–sleep until he was certain she was safe.

“What did I do this time?” Bruce finally asked. He turned back to the security footage he was pouring over. It terrified him that they could have been so close to y/n. That he could have been too late. That he could have–

He shut the thought down as quickly as it came. No use dwelling on it now.

“What haven’t you done? You imploded the most important relationship you have–repeatedly, if we’re being honest. You keep secrets from her but toe the line so recklessly it’s going to blow up in your face. You let your emotions get the best of you. And that’s just lately. Shall I go on?” Alfred recrossed his ankles in the other direction.

Bruce grit his teeth but said nothing. He restarted the security footage from the beginning and paused it frame by frame. A loud clack echoed around the abandoned station each time he smashed the button to go to the next frame.

“Let’s change tactics then. How long are you going to let her live in fear before you tell her that the Batman is watching over her from inside her home?”

Bruce’s jaw ached with the force of his clenched teeth. Still, he said nothing. First y/n had yelled at him, now Alfred. He knew his behavior was…abysmal to say the least. But he had more important things to focus on than everyone’s emotions, his own included.

He had to find Frank Gallo, and take down the rest of the family, once and for all. When that was done, when y/n was safe, he would think about all the ways he had ruined his relationship with her.

“Are you listening to me, Bruce?”

“I am trying,” Bruce said with a smack of his fist against the table, “to figure out who the fuck broke into my home and threatened y/n!” His voice echoed loudly around him, setting the bats to fluttering and chittering above them. He restarted the footage once again.

Alfred made a noise in his throat. “She hasn’t slept at all.”

Something oily slid down Bruce’s spine. “Neither have I.” It was a deflection and they both knew it. It killed Bruce to know y/n was so scared. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it–other than find those responsible and make them pay. She wouldn’t want his comfort, wouldn’t want him to hover, so he was doing the next best thing and trying to end it.

Alfred sighed. “All I’m saying is–”

“I know what you’re saying.”

“Then why do I have to keep saying it?”

Bruce went back to ignoring the older man. Let Alfred think what he wanted. Bruce had work to do. Nothing would get better until Frank Gallo and the rest of his family and cronies were gone for good.

What gives you the right to act like this? she’d asked, all of her anger turned towards Bruce like a roaring inferno. What gave him the right? He had admitted it to her right before that–I give too much of a shit.

She didn’t know he was still in love with her. That he always had been.

He’d hurt her so badly she couldn’t see what was right in front of her face–who he was, how he felt, what it was doing to him. If she would just open her eyes, she would know.

Instead, she had yelled at him.

He deserved it. He knew he deserved it. But walking in and seeing her hold Officer Martinez’s hand…it made him crazy. He had acted like the worst type of bastard without even thinking. It was pure instinct, the urge to protect her even from a guy like Martinez rising so strongly within him that it was almost as if he had blacked out. Like someone else had taken over his body.

She rarely ever got mad at him. It had only happened a few times throughout their many years together. It was a sight to behold, her rage, and he had been equal measures impressed and angry both.

“I don’t have time for this,” Bruce said after long stretch of silence. His voice was raw with exhaustion and emotion. “Either help me figure this out or go back upstairs.”

He felt rather than saw Alfred bristle. He waited to get berated yet again, but Alfred merely pulled up the footage on another screen and got to work.

They spent a few minutes in silence, Bruce’s eyes burning from lack of sleep, his thoughts churning. She hasn’t slept. He ached to go upstairs, to tell y/n that she was safe with him, that he would never let anything happen to her.

But it already had, and all of it had been his fault.

He knew without a doubt, just as he had known three years ago, that she was safest far away from him. And look what had happened already–the more she’d become entangled with him, with the Batman, the worse things got. She had spent three years in Bludhaven, far away from him, perfectly safe. And the minute she had come home to Gotham, come home to him…it had all gone to shit. Really it had gone to shit before that–when her grandmother had left the tower for the last time.

Bruce liked to think that was his fault, too, not that he’d ever it admit it out loud.

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” Alfred said into the silence. His voice was gentle, almost placating.

“Mm.” It wasn’t working, then, Bruce thought. He already felt guilty enough.

“I hate seeing you like this. Both of you.” Alfred sighed again. “I just think that talking about it–all of it–would help you both. It might ease the strain of…everything else going on.”

Bruce couldn’t see how it could help, only how it would make things worse. But he didn’t say that to Alfred, merely nodded and kept working.

Two nights later, all Bruce could think about was that Alfred had been right.

He should have told y/n the truth while he had the chance.

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#bruce wayne x reader #battinson x reader #the batman x reader #the batman 2022 #the batman #battinson #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #battinson x you

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chrisevansonly · 2 months

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Lando’s Girls

lando norris x female reader

summary: there is no one lando loves more than you and his little baby girl

warnings: none very cute and soft lando

a/n: hi hi i’m a slob at writing i know but hopefully getting back into it more frequently this is meh but enjoy 😭

The sun was out in Monaco, the warm breeze filtering through the balconies that overlooked the harbour, the waves rolling into the many yachts that lined the docks. But up here, all the way up on the top floor of the building, sat Lando with his little baby girl Eloise Norris, all 8 months of her, looking up happily at her dad.

“oh you’re smiling at me huh? my cheeky girl”

Eloise flailed her arms as she hit her stomach lightly, letting out little babbles, Lando wishing he could hear these sounds for the rest of his life.

“i think you like the sun hmm? finally some nice weather?”

Lando had let you get some extra sleep after being up through the night with her, she’d been fighting off a cold and finally seemed to be turning the corner to getting back to her normal self.

You’d wandered downstairs in search of the two of them, furrowing your brows when they weren’t in the living room or playroom, but the sound of more giggles caught your attention and you made your way to the screen door.

“well there are my two favourite people!”

At the sound of your voice Eloise smiled even wider, Lando gently picking her up so she could stand, holding her sides so she wouldn’t wobble or fall.

“aren’t you the cutest little bug! did daddy dress you?”

Lando smiled

“say yes, my daddy dressed me, he does it the best!”

“Lan!”

Smacking him on the shoulder he laughed, before tilting his head back so you could lean down and kiss him, only then sitting next to them and kissing your little girls cheeks.

“daddy is being mean to mummy huh angel?”

Eloise smiled still, babbling away as she reached for you, your arms pulling her to your chest, before you leaned back into Lando, relaxing against him.

“i am doing no such thing…”

“oh sure you aren’t”

A quiet fell over the two of you, traffic noises beginning to fill the space as the city woke up more and more, Eloise’s eyes fluttering shut as she fell asleep against you.

“no better place in the world than right here, with my girls”

“lando’s girls hmm?”

Pressing a few kisses to your neck he hummed in response, every second he got to spend at home with the two of you, he never ever took for granted. The race season was long and hard, even more so being away from you and little norris too.

“thank you for this morning love..”

“you don’t have to thank me, i just wanted you to get your sleep”

Smiling you leaned further into him, the sun warm on your skin, a feeling after a few days of rain you missed.

“I love you”

Lando smiled as your eyes fluttered shut, his arms tightening around the two of you

“I love you to my angels…”

As you fell asleep along with your daughter, Lando couldn’t help but admire you both. Taking a few photos to save for himself, one that would turn into his lock screen a few hours later. He would do anything for his girls, be the best husband and father he could be, keep you both smiling and happy, and going above and beyond to keep you two safe and protected.

Even being the world’s best pillow for nap times, because let’s face it…he was a pretty comfy one.

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gyusrose · 5 months

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OMGG yk that one trend on tik tok where the girl shows her nails the caption being “look at my new nails” and she’s rubbing it on the bfs bulge can u do that with enhypen legal line?? Sorry if this doesn’t make sense😭

love this req !!!!! i tried my best though hope you like it !

⚠︎ very suggestive ;) semi- smut?

✎ what the req. says

enhypen legal line x fem. reader

Heeseung -> you were seeing this trend going on in TikTok and you couldn’t help but want to try it out on your boyfriend. you just had your nails done yesterday as well so it was the perfect timing. you explained to heeseung what you wanted to do earning a howl from him.

“ you’re so horny i swear. “

you smacked your lips pushing his shoulder lightly.

“not true! i just want to try this trend !”

“mhm yea sure, as if you don’t know that this will end up in fucking. “

nevertheless he agreed to it.

he laid down on his back while you positioned your hand on top of his clothed dick before pressing play.

as your other hand was filming you slightly squeezed him through his sweatpants. heeseung groaned and hissed as you kept on rubbing slightly on him while you pretended to show your nails. he was an impatient man, the video that was barely 15 seconds long felt like 15 minutes, all he wanted was to bend you over the bed and fuck you like the tease you are.

“shit are you almost done?” he desperately asked.

“wait, just like 5 more seconds..” heeseung threw his head back, annoyed. he knew you were deleting some clips and redoing them.

“alrighty it’s done.” as soon as the video ended he pulled your waist towards him and grabbed your jaw.

“you’re gonna learn to not tease me like that ever again.”

Sunghoon -> “look babe i just got my nails done.” you said showing him your pink and white flower designs on them.

to be completely honest, you only did it to do that funny trend you saw a few days ago. it’s just something dumb and humorous you wanted to do sunghoon wouldn’t mind it.

sunghoon thought about it for a minute. he wanted to act as if nothing but holy fuck, he was already getting hard at the thought of it. the whole idea of being recorded turns him on too much for his liking. eventually he agreed to it and laid down in bed.

you on the other hand had no idea how turned on he is, even though you’re touching him sexually, it was just a joke to you, just a TikTok. that would explain how surprised you were when you rubbed his visible bulge and felt him hard as a rock.

“holy shit..” you whispered to yourself, you tried to keep your composure as you were filming but how could you when your man was literally yearning for your touch.

sunghoon tried to hold back his moans but failed miserably. he wanted your mouth so bad. your soft touches that come and go did so much to him.

“fuck stop the video.” he said giving up, grabbing his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers.

“suck it like you know how to.”

Jay -> “so you just want to touch my dick is basically what you’re saying?” jay had such a way with words. of course that’s what you meant but you can’t just agree like that.

“i see so many people doing it and i’m bored.” jay raised an eyebrow at your response. he knew you like the back of his hand. you were horny duh.

“sure go ahead and do your ‘tiktok’ “ he chuckled as he laid in bed, waiting for you to start the video.

he smirked down at you as you innocently rubbed on his dick while you stroked up and down on it. showing your red nails to the camera yet the last thing on both of y’all’s minds was the nails.

jay wanted to also tease you. he lifted up his shirt slightly, showing his v-line. your panties were damp. in less than 30 seconds, jay has managed to almost make you cum on yourself.

jay kept calm throughout the whole video ( even though he was dying to fuck your mouth ) and just chuckled at how the simple outline of his cock made you go crazy.

“fuck it.”

you threw your phone somewhere and unbuckled his belt pulling his jeans down. left in his boxers he grabbed you chin, forcing you to look at him.

“i fucking knew it.”

Jake -> you were just sitting down in your living room at peace, when all of a sudden you hear footsteps coming from upstairs, jake came up to you while showing his phone screen with a huge grin on his face. oh god, you knew that look.

“look at this trend going on right now, it’s so hot.” he was always up to date with all the trends and stuff so you weren’t surprised, but when you saw the video, your eyes almost popped out. you were expecting a silly little dance he wanted to do with you but no. this man wanted you to grope him for a TikTok video. you couldn’t help but laugh at his request, you weren’t complaining though.

“jake seriously?”

“yes seriously, come on it’ll be fun, plus my face won’t be showing, just my dick. also you just got your nails done as well, don’t you want to show them off?” in other words, he was horny.

so there you were, rubbing on him as you squeezed his already aroused cock. you tried to go at it softly (since that was the whole point of the TikTok ) but jake didn’t want that as he bucked his hips cowards wanting to feel more, moaning from the lack of movement.

“i thought this was just got a TikTok, why are you getting so worked up jakey?” you teased. fuck how much he loved that.

from his white shirt which was almost transparent, you could see his glistening abs tighten from his heavy breaths. now you were the one getting worked up.

“just save the video and come here.” he said pulling you into a kiss.

Sunoo -> “you want to r-record it?” you nodded eagerly. you adored seeing sunoo hot and bothered, so what a great idea was this ? plus the nails you had on were actually expensive so what better way to show them off than next to your boyfriend’s dick?

sunoo blushed at your words. the action itself turned him on so bad but now that you want to make a video with it did something to him. he was nervous for sure but excited as well? there was nothing in the world he loved more than your hands, especially since they look so cute right now, so why not?

sunoo was already breathing heavily before you even pressed start. your hand simply being on top of his crotch already drove him crazy.

as you started rubbing him and squeezing him through his pants, he became a whiny mess. he stopped himself from moving his hips too much for the video but at that moment he wanted to fuck into your hand like he always does.

“aww is my precious little baby frustrated ? be patient i’m almost done.” the video was clearly longer than it should’ve been but you just loved seeing him trying to hold back seeing his dick twitch.

“please just- just touch me please ..”

Jungwon -> he was waiting for you to come up to him and ask him if you could do the infamous trend going around. obviously just as an excuse to have you on your knees.

“can we try it? pretty please? look my nails are even cute.” clearly you were very eager.

jungwon pretended to think for a moment as if he wasn’t dying to do it as well. “whatever you want princess.”

you took that literally. groping him from his base to the tip slowly then rubbing him while showing the camera your pretty nails .

“fuck those hands of yours.” he breathed out. you smirked loving how much power you have right now.

he was a quietly moaning into the pillow, on top of that, he was wearing grey sweatpants making it the scene even more sensual.

“ keep it together, just a few more seconds.” jungwon couldn’t even hide his desperation at this point. the way your small hands take him so good even soft touches and strokes like these drove him insane.

the sound of the video ending brought him back to reality. “and..done.”

“good, now finish what you’ve started.”

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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months

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just need soft sex with jason

May have gotten a little carried away but ✨🔨🫠

—

Time written - 12:23 p.m

“I think I can walk just fine, Jason.”

Jason’s tone in response is lighthearted, playful even.

“It’s romantic, don’t you think? Carrying your girl to bed—” he pauses and chuckles at your expression, catching view of that eye roll while sipping your drink.

“We’d be like that painting of the angel holding a bride,” he suggests with a wide smile. “C’mon, not the first time I’ve done it.”

“Oh my god,” you giggle, tilting your head back in exaggeration. “Wow, look at you trying to be all cute and chivalrous.”

“Hey, let’s not downplay it. I thought I was being the most romantic guy ever,” he pouts, his expression turning faux-offended.

“I guess not,” he shrugs. “If you can’t appreciate that.”

He leans against the kitchen counter, acting as if he really is hurt. Then, without warning, he turns around to face you, broad hands clutching hold of you by the waist.

He hoists you up over his shoulder without hesitation, smirking from your sudden surprised yelps. He leaves your abandoned tea mugs behind, neglecting the lightswitch as he carries you down the hallway.

“I can walk Jase—!” Your amused beginning cuts off with an abrupt gasp when a firm palm smacks down on your ass, your shirt riding up over your curves.

“Can’t walk if your feet aren’t on the ground.”

“Jason!” Your annoyed tone didn’t last more than half a second before a smile breaks over your face. Chivalry was never dead with a man like him.

Your joyous fit of giggles merely died down after he gently sets you into bed, your head settling along your minor pile of unnecessarily comfortable pillows. Jason joins you without a second thought, his broad body comfortably caging you in. Any light from the hallway shadowed out once he floods your vision, enveloping you in a blanket of safety.

Then, without word, he presses his lips against yours, gently nudging your legs apart to snugly settle in between them. His breathing grows slightly rough, his braced hands grip tightly to the sheets as he feels your delicate little fingers find purchase along his back.

One of your hands trails up and down along his spine, causing the hair on his neck to flare up. He can already feel himself getting worked up, the hunger within him getting a little harder to control.

Jason spares a hand to roam along your minimally clothed body, running his palm along the soft skin of your hips and thighs.

A soft, little hum leaves your plump lips, his hand grasping along your soft, moisturized hip. The ache that bloomed in his gut desired more of those sweet noises, biting down on your tongue before rocking his hips forward.

You might’ve been just as eager as he was, your damp panties leaving a little impact against his navy sweatpants. The paired friction makes his waistband tug down, exposing the taunt v-line visible by lack of boxers.

“Jason,” you whimper out his name in the midst of him proceeding to litter your neck with kisses. He knows what you’re going to ask, he’s well aware of it. All he wanted was the green light to do it, one word to allow him this privilege.

“Yeah baby?” He murmurs against your skin, anxiously awaiting permission.

“Please.”

Such a gorgeously spoken sound, accompanied with a pretty bloom on those supple cheeks.

Jason groans as his body shivers. As much as he wants to control himself from going too fast, he wraps his arms around your legs, hoisting them up around his waist as he gives in.

With resuming where he left off, body hands running further up your body. You wore no bra to sleep, per his advantage. Pulling off the very shirt you borrowed from him to sleep in, he’s pleased with the sight of your breasts gently bouncing after momentarily sitting up.

“Oh my God,” Jason utters out in the midst of a groan, his calloused palms cradling both your sweet, glistening tits. “Mmm. Fuck, babe.”

You smelled incredibly good, like sweet honey cake dipped in melted frosting, sprinkled with toasted sugar. He’d fall asleep with his nose buried into your neck nearly every night, blessed with such a comforting fragrance off your warm body every morning.

You stuck to his memory as well as his clothes, every part of you tasting as sweet as your scent. The falsified rumors of the late Queen of France’s words held the most truth when Jason thought of eating you.

“Smell good?” You teasingly hum, biting your lip from his thumbs circling both your nipples, imagining your tiny hands in comparison to his rub luscious body butter along your chest every night after your shower.

“Smells fucking amazing.” He grunts, gently pinching both your nipples in between his fingers. Whatever smart remark you’re about to make dies in the back of your throat as Jason leans down, teasing your nipple in between his teeth. You suck in a deep breath, tangling your fingers into his messy black hair.

He’d help you take another quick shower after this, for now, all he needed was you.

Four fingers hook along your thin panties while assaulting your other nipple, your hips raising to comply with him pulling them off and down your legs.

“Oh, fuck,” Jason lowly groans from such a pretty sight greeting him from in between your legs, teal eyes heavy lidded with overpowering lust.

Jason shifts himself closer, raising your hips off the bed to rest further up along his lap. Both thumbs caress the smooth skin of your inner thighs before tracing around your puffy lips, one thumb nudging your clit before inserting two fingers into your pussy, pumping them at a slow pace.

Jason utters plenty of dirty, feverish promises as he pumps his fingers in and out at a quickening pace, his thumb moving in fast circles around your throbbing clit. He can’t wait to feel your rosy walls squeeze around him, muttering in between a handsome chuckle that your pussy is crying for it, gushing around his fingers so quickly.

Purplish plum colored hickies coat your inner shoulder as he draws a slow, modest orgasm from you, hooking his fingers with every buck of your hips, making you quiver and squeal.

Prayers composed of his name alone continuously leave your tongue, your pussy drooling as he removes his fingers, strings of arousal connecting between both digits. Chest heaving while Jason sets you back down, glazed over eyes watch his free hand tug down his constricting pants, pulling himself free from his confines.

He strokes himself with his wet fingers, further coating the tip of his fat, leaking cock with additional lubricant. He always knew you needed prep; not only wanted to, but needed to. He wasn’t being cocky (too cocky anyway) about his size, he was incredibly blunt about it when it came to the first time you had sex.

Even more so when he had been your first.

He never wanted you to hurt, even when the itch of impatience nagged at his brain to fuck you here and now.

His hand cradled the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your shower damp hair. To further stoke those flames, he parts your flushed lips with still damp fingers before shoving them in, tasting of salty precum and yourself as you run your tongue along them.

“Ohh, fucking dirty girl.” Jason mutters while watching, catching the crook in your lips form while sucking on his fingers. He takes your lips after retreating them, sucking on your tongue while lightly fucking himself with his hand, slicking up a majority of his length.

He guides himself closer, fighting back a grunt as the thick, heavy length of his cock rests across your slippery opening, sticky and sweet with arousal.

The both of you moan as he pushes inside, your walls stretching tightly around his girthy head. A low groan of satisfaction erupts from his chest while he sheaths himself in your warmth, his breath coming out hot and embarrassingly shallow through his nose.

“Fuck,” Jason mumbles before stifling a sharp whimper, fingers tightening on your hips in a death grip. “Shit, Princess. so goddamn tight.”

The heels of your feet digging into the back of his thighs, your nails drawing crescents into his skin. You want him as deep as he can possibly get, until you can’t remember where you end and he begins. The stretch is deliciously potent, a reminder that no matter how many times you do this, you’ll never fully get used to him. Neither of you would have it any other way.

He moves quite slow, rocking his hips in a speed that carries no pick up or roughness as he absolutely loses himself inside you. His lips roam all over your face, kissing away winces and mumbling soft apologies to your whimpers while you adjust.

Regardless of the pace, being stuffed full of his cock garnered pleasurable tears spewing from your eyes.

Your nails drag against his biceps, leaving raised lines along his muscles. He quietly pleads for you to dig deeper, desiring for his blood underneath your nails, wanting your marks to affect him for as long as possible.

The stinging pain has the desired effect on Jason, who spews out a sharp kiss as he thrusts into you hard once. The bed squeaks, the mattress buckling in the frame as it thuds against the wall.

A little cry leaves your mouth, your hips hitching up until your walls swallow him whole. Skin directly flush against skin, him buried so deep, kissing your cervix directly, his blunt head throbbing all against your sweet spots.

“Shhh,” Jason exhales against your cheek, both hands cradling your cheeks with eyes full of guilt from his impatient mistake.

“Shh, babe. M’sorry.” He reassuringly whispers along your lips, massaging soothing circles along your sides. “You’re alright, you’re okay. There’s my girl, my pretty girl .. takin’ me in so damn good.”

The gentle rock of his hips after a moment of rest isn’t subtle, much softer than either of you have had yet, but hot. So genuinely hot that the pure compassion between two star struck lovers almost makes up for the lack of speed. Two, aroused bodies taking in on such erotic pleasure as they made love for the first time all over again.

Jason catches your lips in a messy kiss as he plunges into you again and again, skin softly patting against damp skin.

Your lips travel along his sharp jaw, looking for the one spot by his ear that almost always makes him unravel each time. He tenses as you find it, cursing richly in your ear before grasping you closer.

“G-God fucking damn, Princess, you’re killing me,” he grunts out, growing a little louder before his voice cracks, gifting you a symphony of eagerly impatient whimpers whilst fisting handfuls of bedsheets, finally rutting into you just a little faster.

You can tell from the sloppiness that he’s close, and you’re not far behind.

You know every one of his weaknesses. Hell, you were at the top of that list, and it scared the shit out of him. Now, it makes him feel secure. And it’s in that security that he gives you everything.

His hips stutter as he fills you with thick, heavy ropes of cum, forcefully buried deeply with each staggered, drawn out thrusts. A cracked whisper of your name is all the warning he gives before flying over the edge, dragging you down with him shortly after.

You didn’t care if he finished first, all that mattered was the stark beauty of him that displayed across his face while he did it. Furrowed brows, eyes screwed shut in euphoria.

“I love you,” he chokes out, grunting heavily in your ear while hugging you against him for dear life, muscular arms slipping under your arched back, his pelvis rocking deliciously against your sensitive clit. “I love you I love you, I fucking love you—“

“I love you too,” you whimper out during a shudder, overstimulation creaking up and down your spine. You have him in a death grip, legs tangled tight around his waist, arms still tightly secure around his shoulders.

Your most favorite expression on him was the relief that followed after the euphoric tension diminished. Facial muscles melting as every inch of stress vanishes from his body, coupled with the satisfaction of doing so with the woman he so dearly loved.

His most favorite expression on you was the beautiful glimmer in your eyes after opening his. Gorgeous irises full of crystalline tears, tinted pink with satisfaction and awe of doing so with the man you so dearly loved.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd gotham knights #jason todd smut #jason todd x #jason todd dc #I don’t know how to end it #but this is all I got #🥹🥹🥹

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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

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Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {2}

Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: Alcohol leads to some bad decisions and a big fight threatens to tear the family apart. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, protective big brother, alcohol, daddy issues, angst WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three

Round Twelve - Belgium 2022 A sponged microphone was shoved in your face and you barely stopped yourself from smacking it away out of reflex, but you did startle back a bit before recovering.

“You look a little wound up, Spitfire,” Lando commented with a laugh. “Ready to call a truce.”

“You wish, Norris. You may have won the battle but I’m going to win the war.”

The microphone picked up the exchange and the reporter cast a glance between the two of you. “Is this battling on the track?”

“With his tractor? No way,” you laughed, nudging Lando with your elbow and a smile to ease the blow. “Someone thought it would be funny to wake me up with a fire extinguisher, which I am totally blaming on Charles because I know you couldn’t come up with that on your own.”

“Hey!” Lando whined with a pout. “I…can’t come up with a lie right now.”

“That’s what I thought. Charles, watch your back and you both better sleep with one eye open.” You turned your attention back to the reporter and signalled with your hand for them to do their thing while you dutifully did yours for yet another Media Day.

“We know you and Max have a, some would say, unhealthy amount of competitiveness on the track but outside of that you are very protective of each other…so, how has he reacted to finding out you’re on the dating app Raya?”

You winced at the question and saw the guys get whiplash with how fast their heads turned your way. All along the line the question echoed. Lando, Pierre, Charles, Daniel and finally Max, ten beady eyes staring at you with a mixed array of emotions.

“What? You all get to date, why can’t I?” you asked defensively as you crossed your arms. “Gotta find something to do for summer break.”

“Hiking in the Alps,” Charles offered.

“Or sunbathing in the Maldives,” Pierre suggested.

“Please never refer to dating someone as ‘something to do’,” Max huffed. “Or better yet, never mention dating at all. Adopt some cats.”

You looked at Lando and quirked an eyebrow. “Do you have anything to add? Since everyone else seems to think they actually have a say in what I do.”

His eyes darted around the guys who were expecting him to pitch in but all he had was a squeaky and unsure, “No?”

“And that’s why you’re my favourite.”

“Why do you want to date anyway?” Daniel asked, and you swore there was more than just curiosity in his tone.

“You guys have girlfriends, and I want one too.”

“A girlfriend?” he asked with far too much enthusiasm.

“Maybe,” you replied with a wink. “I’m not ruling out 50% of the dating pool.”

“So how have you been finding the app,” the reporter asked, “any connections made?”

You huffed and shook your head, a few sighs of relief sounding down the line but you didn’t see who they came from. One was definitely Max.

“I’m an athlete. I train and I sweat so the last thing I want to do when I get home is do the laundry or cook a healthy meal. But my experience so far is that men think it’s the woman’s job to do that, so I need a guy that’s up for sharing responsibility. Is that too much to ask?”

“I’d cook for you!” A man called from the crowd and you sat up straighter trying to see where it came from.

“What about laundry?” you fired back.

“Security,” Max called with a finger pointed to the good looking man who put his thumbs up in the air.

“Ignore him. What’s your name?” you asked as you pulled out your phone. It only took ten seconds to find Martin’s social media accounts and you rolled your eyes in annoyance. “This is why I have trust issues. I hope your girlfriend sees this and dumps you.”

Three days later You had failed to finish the GP after an embarrassing pitstop left one of your wheels rolling down the lane. The replay footage kept popping up wherever you went, even at the restaurant before the afterparty, and Max had the audacity to laugh. “Nice trike, zusje.”

“Shut up and get me another drink,” you grumbled as you drowned your sorrows.

He soon returned with two gin and tonics and huffed as you took them both. “I’m not carrying you back to the hotel if you pass out,” he warned before going and getting another drink for himself.

“That’s fine, I can always call my new friend, Martin,” you said with a grimace as he took your phone off the table and shoved it in his pocket. “Bonnie Tyler was onto something. Where have all the good men gone?”

“They aren’t at the bottom of your glass,” Max said as you tipped the drink back. “So you can stop looking there.”

“You’re right. I’ll see you later, bro.”

“Where are you going?” he asked as he watched you push your chair back and head for the door.

“Taking a page out of P’s favourite book,” you said over your shoulder.

Christian sat back in his chair as you left and asked Max, “What’s P’s favourite book?”

“We’re Going on a Bear Hunt.” Max sighed and rubbed his temples, making Christian laugh with a shake of his head.

“Should I send someone to keep an eye on her?”

“It’s fine, we have family share so I can see her location-fuck! I have her phone!” Max leapt from the table and rushed out of the restaurant. He looked up and down the busy street but he couldn’t see you anywhere and combed a hand through his hair, wondering what he should do.

He hardly used his social media accounts, leaving it to his PA to monitor that side of things, but this would be the exception. Opening twitter, he put out the message asking that if anyone spots you to send him the location. Almost immediately he got bombarded with replies of concern and his anxiety spiked when he realised he would waste his night with the time it would take to go through and find any messages that were actually helpful.

A familiar face spotted you on the dancefloor of the club you found yourself in and you grinned when he made his way through the crowd to you.

“Dance with me, Lando,” you shouted over the music.

“Your brother’s looking for you,” he replied, leaning closer so you could hear him.

“Please don’t tell him where I am.” You could already feel your mood deflating and he bit his lip as he was torn between loyalties.

“Okay, I won’t,” Lando promised, earning a bright smile that made him feel better. “But I’ll let him know you’re with me so he can stop freaking out.”

You didn’t bother to correct him, because Max would never stop worrying. He took his role as older brother too seriously, something you often found stifling since you had grown up without it and still struggled to accept it.

“I’m getting a drink, do you want one?” you asked as while he was busy on his phone, messaging Max.

“Uh, yeah, rum and coke, please.”

You slipped away to the bar, stumbling more than you would like to admit, and leaned against the bar top as you waited for some service. You hadn’t been there for more than a minute when an arm draped over your shoulders and you spotted the Forza Ferrari bracelet on the wrist.

“You have got twitter going crazy, chérie,” Charles said with a chuckle. “There’s quite a few people out hunting for you.”

“And I found her first,” Lando said as he brushed the arm off your shoulder and stood at your other side.

“Well,” you chuffed as you draped your arms over their shoulders and pulled them closer, “I’m on a hunt of my own and I could do with some help. A girl has needs and you two are going to be my wingmen.”

They both looked at each other and you could see the mental conversation they were having, each long passing second leading you to pull back. “No, don’t call Max. Lando, you promised.”

“We can’t just let you go off with some random,” Charles said as he caught your hand before you could escape the bar, “what if they are a serial killer?”

You tugged your hand back angrily and struggled to keep your balance when you were suddenly freed. “If I were a guy we wouldn’t be having this argument. Why can’t I have fun too?”

“We just want to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” you laughed bitterly and held your hand out. “Fine, give me a condom, I know you carry them around in your wallet.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Lando argued as he pushed your hand away. “You’re not sleeping with a stranger.”

“Is that you offering then?” You looked between Charles and Lando, watching their necks turn pink as you crossed your arms. “That's what I thought. I’m going to another bar, this one’s full of assholes. Hasta luego, pendejos.”

“Great, she’s been hanging out with Carlos,” Charles grumbled as you walked away.

“He’s better company than you two,” you shouted over your shoulder before you hit the exit.

Cold air rushed into your lungs and you realised two things. One; you should have worn more clothes, and two; you were sobering up. There was only one way to solve both problems so you marched your way down the street to find another bar.

Your head was pounding and your stomach turned when you woke up to the first day of summer break. The hotel room was elegant and luxurious, but it wasn’t yours and you didn’t know how you had come to get here.

“Coffee?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” you sighed with relief as Lando walked into the bedroom with two cups in his hands. “Where’s my clothes? Did we have sex? Wait, no, you wouldn’t cheat and I’d definitely remember that.”

“They’re in the dryer, and no we didn’t have sex,” he said as he handed you one of the cups. “You were soaked when we found you.”

You frowned as you tried to remember what happened but came up blank. “We?”

“You went for a swim in the fountain of love in the city centre. It was a ‘part of your hunt’, apparently. Charles helped me get you back here before anyone called the police.”

“Oh, great,” you muttered as you pulled the sheets higher. “Hey, you’re doing my laundry. It’s a shame you’re not single. Then again, you can’t cook for shit.”

“Be glad you’re single. The grass isn’t always greener on this side of the fence,” he said with a sigh.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I’d rather not.” Lando suddenly looked guilty as he took the half drunk coffee back and placed it on the side table. “I should probably warn you, I called Max after you took off from us last night.”

“I was with you and Charles?” Your brows pinched together as you started to recall being angry at them before embarrassment followed. “Shit, I called you assholes.”

“It’s fine, but the only reason we found you again was because of some clips on Instagram.”

You could imagine another lashing from the Red Bull PR, it wasn’t the first time you were involved in drunk misadventures and it was caught on camera. Usually it was some dare or competition involving Max where neither of you wanted to admit defeat and things just got out of control. He’d probably enjoy hearing you get ripped a new one by Christian while he got a pat on the head for being the golden child.

“What did I do this time?” you asked, knowing it was easier to just rip the bandaid off.

“It isn’t what you did,” he said with a wince. “It’s what you said.”

“Well?” you prompted when he shifted awkwardly on his feet.

“You said Charles’ listens to Nickelback.”

Your head fell back with a laugh and the sheet fell down as you let go of the cotton to clutch your nauseous stomach. “Well at least I wasn’t spouting off a bunch of bullshit.”

“And that there were three drivers you would date if you got the chance.”

“Ah, well…” you cleared your throat and scrunched the bedding into your hands, ignoring the way his eyes trailed over your bra that was on display. “That is a lie. There’s only two. It’s just my luck they are both in relationships. Did I really use the word date?”

“You said fuck but the meaning was there.”

You pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on them with a heavy sigh. “I’m a mess. I’m surprised you didn’t try to prank me while you had the chance. Or is there a dick in permanent marker on my face?”

“You wouldn’t have been coherent enough to appreciate it,” Lando teased as he took a seat at the edge of the bed. “I told you this last night and I know you’re lonely, but you're looking for love in all the wrong places. You’re not going to find someone who will treat you right in a shitty nightclub when you’re too drunk to even give consent.”

Tears of embarrassment stung your eyes and you swallowed the lump in your throat before climbing off the bed and wrapping the sheet around you. “Thanks for the concern, but I’m not going to take dating advice from the guy who clearly isn’t happy in his own relationship.”

There would be no way to erase the image of how hurt he was by the words so you turned your back and left the room, grabbing your damp dress from the dryer and pulling it on. Thankfully your shoes were beside the door so you swiped them up as you left, the heels dangling from your fingers as you pushed through the sickening feeling and left the hotel to break into a run.

People stared in the street, some even pulled out their phones when they recognised you but there would be no autographs. You focused on your breathing, focused on the cold slap of your bare feet on the pavement, focused on anything but the look in Lando’s eyes.

“Where the fuck were you!” Max shouted as you reached your room and found him already there, rising from one of the armchairs like the godfather. “I have been worried sick.”

“Jesus, you sound like Jos when you shout. Relax before you have a heart attack and leave me with no competition.”

“You’re more likely to lose your seat the way you’re going, and leave me without any competition.”

“Dream on, I just had a moment.”

Max cocked an eyebrow up and crossed his arms. “Yeah, and what was last weekend and the one before that?”

You sucked your teeth at the reminder and dropped your shoes to the floor. “That wasn’t my fault, I didn’t start the prank war. And I really didn’t think the smoke bomb would set off all of the sprinklers, just the one in Charles’ room. Plus, I paid for the damages and repairs.”

“Throwing money around doesn’t mean you can act like a spoiled brat,” he said as he fell back into the armchair.

“I am not a spoiled brat,” you growled. “I didn’t grow up with money like you and Vicky. I was the dirty little secret, just a bi-product of Jos' affair, that had to scrounge around for second hand parts just so I could have a working kart. So, fuck you, I’m allowed to enjoy the money I have earned.”

“And what about your mother? Do you think she doesn’t see those videos going viral of you drunk out of your mind, letting some klootzak take body shots off you? Does that make her proud?”

Fire burned deep in your gut as you felt attacked from all sides and the angry words spilled over before you could stop them, “I hate you.” Your feet stomped across the carpet to swipe your phone up from beside your stunned brother before you grabbed your backpack from the race which still had your passport and wallet inside. "I never needed a big brother, so you can stop fucking trying and just leave me alone."

“Where are you going?” he asked as he watched you head to the door. “The plane doesn’t leave until this afternoon.”

“Fuck you and fuck your plane. I’ll find my own way home.”

There was only one person you knew you could always count on, the first teammate you had when you made it into F1, and you were already dialling his number as you walked out of the hotel in tears.

“Pierre,” you sobbed as he answered. “I need you.”

Click here for part three.

#formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

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dreamescapeswriting · 8 months

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Stray Kids Reaction || You're Not Answering Your Phone [Mafia Edition]

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN:

Chan did his best not to freak out when you called him, he knew that you were responsible and he could trust you but after four hours of you not answering your phone, it was beginning to send him into a worrying spiral.

"Changbin, I want you and Jeongin to go out into the city and look for her, she could be anywhere. Seungmin, I want you to try and track her phone pings, and see where it last went off." Chan was so busy ordering his men around that he hadn't heard the front door open and close while you walked in casually,

"Hey baby, I picked up some Chinese food for dinner. I didn't want to cook tonight." You called out before stopping in the doorway to see Chan staring at you along with all of his men.

"What?"

"Where have you been?! I've been worried sick!?" He panicked rushing over to you and holding your face in his hands, turning your head side to side as if he was looking for any sign that you weren't okay or that you were hurt in some kind of way.

"I went into town, to get my phone fixed...Remember?" You tried to jog his memory and as soon as you did he began to flush a bright red colour and sweat gathered on the back of his neck.

"O-Oh yeah...Right," He laughed awkwardly as he turned back to his men who were all smirking in his direction.

MINHO:

As soon as your phone continued to go to voicemail Minho lost every rational thought that there was in his mind and he was ready to throw caution to the wind and find you. He was already having Felix track your GPS in your car and then if that didn't work he was going to get him to track and find you with the GPS tracker on your phone. Maybe he was a little overprotective when it came to you but he always wanted to make sure that you were safe.

"I can't stand the thought of something happening to her," He ran his hands through his hair and tugged at the strands a little groaning as he tried not to think about it too much. There had to be some kind of logical explanation for it all,

"Yn's GPS shows that she's in the building," Felix stated as he turned to look at his boss who frowned and rushed over to the screen.

"Search the house," He ordered before running up the stairs to search every bedroom in the home that you shared, god, why did he have to have such a big house. He swore to himself that he was going to move,

"Yn?!" He breathed out as he walked into the library to see you fast asleep on the sofa that was inside there,

"W-What?" You groaned waking up and staring at him as he rushed over to you, holding you in his arms as he called off the search on the rest of the house.

CHANGBIN:

"I have all the time and resources I could need to find her and yet she's nowhere to be found?" Changbin paced outside of the building your car was parked in front of, The security inside of the door wasn't letting him inside and he was ten seconds away from blowing their heads off.

"Do you know who I am?!" He boomed out but the men stared at one another before turning to look over their shoulders. Changbin followed their line of sight and you were standing there with an unimpressed look on your face,

"Where were you?" He'd been panicked all morning and seeing you standing there in a robe and sweating a little he was starting to feel a little bad.

"In the spa! I told you I was going to the spa," You smacked his chest as he made his way over to you. You'd been telling him for weeks about your trip and he'd been all for it, telling you how much you could use the break.

"I was in the middle of a massage when I had to come out and stop my husband from killing someone." You glared at him as a blush began to take over his cheeks.

"I forgot."

"Hmm." You still didn't sound impressed with him and he smiled a little,

"I'll make it up to you."

"You will. By letting me go back to my massage and you go home," You pushed your finger into his chest and he nodded, kissing your cheek quickly.

HYUNJIN:

Every single hospital was being checked within walking distance of the house, then every hospital in the city was being checked as well as everyone calling any hospital that they could think of to try and find you.

"She has to be somewhere!" Hyunjin cried out as he stared down at his laptop,

"Why do you think she's in a hospital?" Chan questioned as Hyunjin looked down at his phone, The last thing you'd text him was a photo of your favourite cafe and then you went radio silent. No phone calls were going through, text messages weren't being delivered,

"Because she has to be injured if she's not responding to me."

"Spoken like an overprotective husband." Chan teased before instantly wishing he hadn't judging by the look on Hyunjin's face. It might have sounded overprotective but you'd always told Hyunjin if you suddenly didn't respond then something was wrong.

"We got her," Felix called out as you walked into the office building, rushing over to your boyfriend as you panted heavily.

"Hyunjin, I've been trying to get up here all day. I-I got mugged and they took my phone, my ID, everything, I couldn't call and then-" You couldn't finish your sentence as you were suddenly wrapped in his arms as he sniffled a little, just relieved to have you alive and with him.

JISUNG:

Jisung wasn't clingy by any means but when you weren't answering your phone for two hours he was beginning to get a little worried about it and calling you constantly. He must have called your phone over 250 times by now and he didn't know what was going on, had he scared you that morning? You'd walked in on him in a meeting and he was yelling at the guy. Did it scare you enough to never speak to him again? He called your phone again as he walked through the front door of your shared home,

"Call me. Please." He begged into the phone, freezing when he walked into the living room to see it surrounded by darkness safe for some fairylights and the giant flatscreen TV being on,

"What's this?"

"Birthday surprise," You smirked looking at him and he frowned,

"It's not your birthday-Oh, it's mine." A blush took over his face as you walked him into the living room and sat him down on the sofa,

"Is this why you haven't been answering your phone?" He gestured to the table that was filled with home cooked goods and you giggled, nodding your head.

"I didn't mean to worry you, you know I cant lie to you so I thought if I ignored you, I wouldn't have to lie." You smirked before he dragged you to sit down with him.

FELIX:

The door to the public library was booted down before people began yelling for everyone to get down on the ground, your head shot up from the book you were reading and you turned to see your boyfriend looking around panicked. You instantly glared at him, of course, he would do something this overdramatic and insane just because you were gone for the day.

"Felix!" You cried out before looking around at all of the other terrified people who were inside the library.

"You weren't answering your phone," He said as though that was ever going to justify knocking down a door and scaring a whole bunch of people.

"Because it's off when I'm in the library." You gestured around you before shutting your book and sighing at him, you couldn't believe he would go to this lengths to find you.

"I left a note in the kitchen for you. Which you would have seen if you'd had breakfast this morning." You scolded him and he blushed a little, instantly apologising to everyone inside the library as he got his cheque book out ready to fix any damages he may have caused.

SEUNGMIN:

Your phone had been off ever since Seungmin had yelled at you that morning and you'd refused to turn it on, You knew it was probably going to cause another fight when you got home but you didn't care. After the fight, the two of you'd had that morning you'd been feeling petty.

"Have you checked at her friend's places? She has to be somewhere," Seungmin sounded stressed as you walked past his study and you stopped in your tracks, peeking through the door to see your husband looking dishevelled.

"I don't care if you checked. Check again!" He boomed before hanging up the phone and downing the scotch that was in front of him. You slowly pushed the door open more and he stared at you,

"Yn?" He quizzed as you walked further into the room, stopping on the opposite side of his desk, he was a mess and you felt guilty.

"The one and only."

"Fuck, baby." He rushed toward you and held you tightly in his arms,

"I'm so sorry about this morning, I'm so so sorry," He held you tighter and tighter until you were sure he was cutting off your air and you whined and began pulling back.

"I'll never fight with you again, just please never run off." He begged as you nodded at him, both of you sitting down to discuss your fight.

JEONGIN:

Jeongin knew that you could look out for yourself, it was one of the things he loved about you but it was scaring him when you continuously ignored his text messages. Worry began to cloud his judgment as he thought about all of the things that could possibly be going wrong with you. Maybe you'd been kidnapped and they took your phone away. Or maybe you'd been involved in an accident and your phone broke in the process. Every thought was making him out of his mind with worry. So he sat and waited. He waited for hours until the front door to your shared home opened and you walked inside followed by two of your best friends.

"Innie? I thought you were going out with the guys tonight?" It was your understanding that tonight was his party night, which was why you'd stayed out so late in the first place.

"I was...But I got worried, you weren't answering your phone." You frowned a little, digging through your bag to find your phone and when you did you felt a wave of guilt hit you.

"It must have died, baby, I'm so sorry." You whined holding onto his face as he held onto you, your friends making their way up to your room to give the two of you some needed privacy.

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kitkatscabinet · 6 months

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Whumptober - 07: Drugged

John Mactavish x f! reader

A/N: For @bunnyreaper here's the whump version, sorry it took so long, hope you like it <3

Soap knows that something’s wrong the moment you call him. You drunk calling him wasn’t exactly out of the norm, in fact, it was weird if you didn’t spam him with texts and tik toks letting him know how much you loved him.

His team often sledged him jokingly for how whipped he was for you, but it was that adoration and care that let him know within seconds that you weren’t okay. There was no excited shout of his name, no blaring music that you were drunkenly singing along to and none of your friends were yelling at him for interrupting girl's night.

There’s just silence, a terribly concerning silence only accentuated by the shuffling of clothes and shuddering breaths. He’s on his feet and crashing into the wall on his quest for the keys in three seconds flat. His shoes aren’t even on properly and he’s already in the car when he finally gets a response to his barrage of questions.

“Johnny?” Your voice is slurred and confused in a way that has his blood freezing. You very rarely got so sloshed you couldn’t function anymore but Soap knew what you were like even then, and this was not it.

When the phone connects to the car's Bluetooth he’s throwing his phone into the passenger seat and reversing so quickly the tyres screech in protest. He knows where you are, you were always good at updating him if you moved venues but it doesn’t stop him from double-checking.

He has to ask the question three times before you eventually confirm that you haven’t gone anywhere, his heart rate increasing frantically with each second that passes and he’s not by your side yet.

“Johnny? Wh’re you? I think somethin’s wrong. Don’t feel so good.” Your whimpers fill the car and Soap starts to drive even faster, blowing through two red lights and a stop sign with little concern over the inevitable tickets and demerits he’ll get.

“I know baby. Am almost there, just hold on a little longer.” He commanded as firmly and gently as possible. “Ye in the bathroom? Locked the door?”

Once again it takes a while for you to understand and respond to his question but when you do he allows himself to relax a little. He tries to ascertain where your friend has gone and not for the first time he wants to kill her when you tell him you have no idea where she’s gone.

“Johnny?” you call for him a few more times as if forgetting you’ve already gotten on the line.

He throws the car into park when he arrives, not bothering with the handbrake and not caring that he’s just stopped in the middle of the road. Cars are honking and people are yelling but he doesn’t give a single fuck, his mind is on a one-track mission.

He’s even left his phone on the seat in his haste and the door open. Undoubtedly, you’ll yell at him when he relays the details later but he’s willing to cop all of your anger if it means he gets to you in time.

He runs past the bouncer, outpacing the shouting man and ducking past various security members as he beelines towards the bathroom. Vaguely he recognises that he’s being chased but it doesn’t matter because he makes it to the ladies' bathroom well before they catch up.

It doesn’t even register that the bathroom door isn’t locked like you’d said it was when he bursts into the grimy space because his attention and fury are quickly dragged elsewhere. Namely to the motherfucker that was sticking his hand down your pants as you sobbed and tried to get away with your body’s sluggish movement.

He’s letting out a furious roar and when the man turns with wide eyes at the commotion behind him Johnny’s fist smacks into his nose with a sickening crack that sends him stumbling backwards bleeding and onto the tile floor.

It’s only the fact that your legs give out without someone supporting you that stops him from beating the man to death as he grabs you and pulls you against him.

You’re so out of it that you protest, pushing against his chest as you cry because you don’t recognise him straight away.

It takes a bit of cajoling and pressing soft kisses into your hairline before you recognise him but when you do you completely devolve into a crying, sobbing mess, collapsing against him even further as you finally allow yourself to feel all of the overwhelming panic you’d been trying to hold off.

Security’s caught up and the commotion they make as they barge into the bathroom sets you off even further and Soap simply shoots them a heated glare before shouldering past them with you safe in his arms.

Perhaps miraculously, both the car and his phone are still where he’d left him and Johnny gently deposits you in the passenger seat, clipping your seatbelt in. His heart shatters a little further when you start to beg him not to leave you.

“M not leaving ye bonnie, just need to get myself strapped in.”

“Promise?” you sound so small and Soap is now certain that once you’re safe and looked after he’d going to hunt down the scumbag that dared lay a finger on you. For now though,

“I promise love.” When he slips into the driver's seat you’re reaching blearily for his hand immediately and he takes it just as quickly, pulling away and driving far slower than he’d gone to get to you.

“I promise.” The words are so soft that they’re more for himself than you. They’re an oath that he’ll keep even if it kills him.

#x reader #cod mw x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish #cod john mactavish #cod soap #cod mw

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general-dweebous · 6 months

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I love the idea of meeting the infamous Halsin your friends boast about, and he’s just smitten with you

Everyone always described him as such a flirt- charming, handsome, the whole package so to speak. Granted you underestimated what they meant when describing how giant he truly is. But most of all, you didn’t expect him to be so.. wonderful.

You knew your friends keep good company, so you expected you’d get along, but you didn’t expect to be sitting next to the giant bear of a man enthralled in conversation for hours. Had it truly been hours? It’s easy to make friends, but more of a challenge to find others you truly connect with, and Halsin was checking off all of those boxes.

And of course, his looks and overall stature combined with this personality make it difficult not to swoon over, but at the moment, you’re too elated simply connecting so well with someone else again. Who else would let you ramble about cute critters for 45 minutes straight?

What you weren’t catching on to, however, was that Halsin was absolutely taken with you. His eyes would drink in your features when it was your turn to speak, a smile stuck on his face as he listened to your nonstop train of thought, rambling on about another fascination of yours. Others tend to find these conversations a bit goofy, laughing them off, but you were invested. Even about the silly little things. And he loves it. He truly feels that he could watch and listen to you for hours and he wouldn’t get tired of your company.

The way his cheeks would flush a warm pink when you laugh at a silly nature joke of his.

How he would feel his chest warm as you seem to unknowingly lean in closer to him, letting your knees touch his without moving away.

Let alone the way his heart would beat faster as you take his hand in both of yours, turning his palm to face upwards as you trace lines on his hands, “I’m serious- you have earth hands”

“earth hands?” he’d repeat with a slight chuckle

“well don’t laugh at me!” you’d reply with a taunting smile, “it’s all in the shape; broad, large, square hands. It’s positive, don’t worry. It means you have strong values, or something.”

“Does it? What else does it mean?”

You’d pause, holding his one (large..) hand in both of yours, “Responsible, practical.” you’d say, your thumb almost massaging his palm. “comfortable working with your hands,”

Halsin’s face would flush again, subtly. He’d notice the way yours does, too, which doesn’t help his ever growing infatuation. His eyes are locked on yours, he’d be happy if you held onto his hand forever. He is almost instinctively flirty, following up with “to put it lightly, I suppose.”

There would be a moment of shy silence. You, trying to hide your embarrassed smirk by staring at his palm longer.

Halsin would be the type to forget anyone else is in the room, lifting the palm from your hand to hook a finger under your chin to get you to look up at him. Even sitting down he’s still double your size. His thumb would graze your lower lip as his eyes gaze into yours.

Unfortunately, there are other people in the room, and they ruin the moment.

“Halsin, have you seen- of course.” your mutual friend would say, rolling their eyes with a laugh. “Stop flirting with my ride home!” They’d tease as they grab your arm and pull you away. You know he’d be wanting to chase after you like some silly romantic novel. Another mutual friend from the group would plop down next to him, smacking him on the back with a laugh. “Careful, your eyes are practically turning into hearts.” They’d taunt. “They’re great, right?”

“An understatement.” He’d say with a warm smile, watching you leave, already hoping for the next encounter.

#I’m sorry I’m such a mess #he makes me so mushy #it’s ridiculous #but I can’t help it #I just want to flirt with him #amongst other things #I love halsin #):#halsin could ruin my life and i’d be fine with it #halsin fluff #halsin headcanons #daddy halsin #halsin x reader #baldurs gate 3 halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin

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ki-yomii · 7 months

Text

careful | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.2k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dom!jk, sub!reader, dirty talk, mild dom/sub dynamics, orgasm control/edging, slight brat kink, slight brat tamer!jk, pet names, degradation kink, praise kink, mild dacryphilia, finger fucking, sub drop, pussy smacking, wet & messy ➥ summary | you should always be careful what you ask for ➥ notes | what's that - posting a fic that isn't any of my wips/requests? more likely than you think 🥲

i started writing today with the intent to work on my vampire jk fic cuz spooky season. instead, i found myself here... i'm sorry 💀

also i’ve seen enough run episodes to know you don’t want jk’s hands smacking you anywhere 😬

🩷 masterlist | inbox | AO3 🩷

“Look at me, baby.”

The low warning cuts through your muffled whines, Jungkook’s weight pinning you to the wall. Thick fingers grind deep inside your cunt, digging into your g-spot mercilessly.

Pressure builds behind your hips, borderline painful as you shift around in a vain attempt to dislodge him.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, “You know better.”

Whenever Jungkook speaks, his voice scrapes down your spine, low and whiskey rough. His chest is a long line of heat, plastered to your front from stem to stern.

The rapid gallop of his heartbeat echoes your own rabbit-fast rhythm, the scent of his cologne clogging your nose and clouding your thoughts.

He bites out your name, the palm shackling your hands above your head squeezing your wrist. Blunt nails dig into the delicate skin of your pulse point.

A silent prompt you know better than to ignore. And yet, the temptation to do so is almost too much.

Keen awareness roots low in your belly, dripping down between your thighs like candle wax. Your thighs tense with the strain of controlling the involuntary drop of your hips; the urge to rock down into his touch choking the breath from your lungs.

“I…”

The instinct to comply is almost Pavlovian. After all, you’re Jungkook’s good girl, aren’t you? Loved and fucked and trained to his liking.

(But how can you be good when he looks at you like that? It’s just not fair.)

Being good all the time is boring.

No. Your mouth snaps shut, and any response you have turns to ash on your tongue. The words catch on the backs of your teeth like candy. Not this time.

“Why are you being like this, huh?” Jungkook’s brows shoot towards his hairline, his dark head ducking to try and catch your eye. “I know I taught you better.”

How could you ever forget the rules when he’s fucked them into you so thoroughly? Took you apart piece by piece only to stitch you back together in his image - his precious little darling made to take his cock and swallow his cum.

“You really don’t wanna play this game with me right now. Trust me.”

Breath lodging somewhere in the middle of your throat, and tasting suspiciously of regret, you shake your head and dig your heels in. Resist the urge to crumble at his feet, beg for forgiveness with your mouth, your hands.

It’s already too late to back out - it’ll just be worse for you if you do.

Jungkook might hide his less… savory traits better than most, but you’ve experienced his greedy kisses firsthand, felt the tug of his teeth and tasted the salt of his skin. Heard his ragged moans honey sweet in your ear, felt the harsh grind of his body along yours.

When he smiles, it’s wicked, "Last chance. Show me those pretty eyes of yours, baby.”

Anticipation hooks behind your navel, stomach swooping as heat curls up in the valley of your hips. Blood rushes in your ears, starting as a slow thrum that crescendos into a rapid drum. Your heart tattoos itself into your ribs.

Licking your lips, your refusal shudders from you in a throaty rush, “No.”

A low hum fills the following silence, noncommittal. The mounting tension threatens to strangle you, sets your teeth on edge. Sparse hairs at the nape of your neck prickle.

And then, before you have time to consider taking it all back, plush lips ghost over the hollow below your ear. Whisps of dark hair whisper over your skin, soft and ticklish. Shivers race down your spine, spread through your fingers and toes.

“Alright, have it your way,” Jungkook smothers his words in the tender slope of your neck, “but remember: you asked for it. Don’t come crying to me afterward.”

Readjusting, Jungkook’s broad shoulders curve forward and the slackened hand on your wrists renews its grip. The cold tip of his nose traces along your jaw, inhaling the perfume of your silken skin.

An exhale shudders from him in a vulgar husk of breath. When you clench around his fingers still buried inside you, he laughs low and mocking.

“Damn, baby, your pussy’s just sucking me in. You really wanna cum that bad?” Kisses pepper up the side of your face, skirting the side of your mouth. “Heh, yeah, I know you do - such a dirty little slut.”

“Oh!” You sigh, sparks sizzling through your limbs, as Jungkook flexes his fingertips playfully against your swollen g-spot. Your hips tilt into the touch. “Hah…”

“That feel good, huh?”

A low keen escapes when he draws your earlobe into the moist heat of his mouth, his lips clamping down while the sharp points of his canines roll the tender fat. Little kisses of pain burn, brighten the arousal blooming deep within you.

“Yeah, of course it does,” Jungkook breathes, his voice low and husky in your ear as he strokes at your fluttering walls. “Just look at you.”

Unable to swallow the broken gasp of his name when he hits your favourite spot at the right angle, you tremble against his chest from where you’re pinned and squeeze your eyes shut, “J-Jung--!”

Holding up your own weight on weak knees is an endurance sport - one you’re losing as they bow and shake, threaten to give out. At the same time, your arms feel like lead, going numb from having them suspended over your head for so long.

Head light and floaty, your nails bite into the backs of his hands as a sharp spike of pleasure slices through you. “I’m--”

“Gonna cum soon?” Jungkook asks, the devilish grin tugging at the corners of his sculpted mouth more a baring of teeth. “Don’t lie to me.”

At your frantic nod, he tugs his fingers free from the tight clutch of your body with a sloppy squelch. Slick oozes from your cunt in a sticky rush that wets your inner thighs, your gut clenching hard with hollow satisfaction as he rips the ebbing flow of your orgasm away without warning.

“Shit!”

The noise you make at their loss is low and wounded, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. Your body locks up so hard your stomach aches, walls fluttering as a cramp knots up behind your hips.

Your swollen clit throbs with angry sparks of pain that make you whine and wince, orgasm thoroughly ruined.

“W-Why did you…” Voice cracking around a hiccupping sob, you pitch forward into his powerful chest. “Jungkook--”

“You know why.” His reply cuts you off, chilly and brusque, while he stares at you without remorse, “I gave you a chance to change your mind.”

“But I -”

“Stop.”

Sniffling, you peer at him from beneath damp lashes.

Breathless and feral, Jungkook stands before you a vengeful god, robed in shade and shadow. It’s criminally unfair how good he looks; jaw clenched, eyes twin black holes that threaten to pull you in.

Harsh, hooded, hungry as they trace over the tear tracks cutting lines down your cheeks, the quiver of your lips. In moments like this, he’s as beautiful as Belladonna and twice as deadly.

“I don’t know why you’re even trying to sweet talk your way out of this.”

If his glare alone wasn’t enough to curb your tongue, then the shuttered expression carved into the planes of his regal face would.

Displeasure sits heavy on his brow, tucked into the corners of his mouth like an ill-fitting mask. Then his hand is slipping between your shaking thighs once more, the backs of his knuckles dragging over your abused, messy folds.

Jungkook hums when you sigh, jolt at the touch, and says, “Now, shut up and be a good girl for me.”

It’s deliciously painful, like blowing on numb fingertips in winter. Your legs spread wider to accommodate him on instinct alone.

Head rolling back to rest against the wall, the cool stone heaven on your sweaty neck.

And then a strike, viper quick, lands on your exposed pussy. Your reprieve ripped away and smashed at your feet as the wet, sloppy sound of an open palm making contact with tender flesh almost drowns out your wounded cry.

“A-Ah!”

You flinch away from the touch, flickers of pain pulsing through your sensitive clit. Nerve endings burn with sensation. Tiny cavities pepper your field of vision, the world a blurry kaleidoscope of color through pooling tears.

It’s hard to think, harder to breathe through the lingering throb and mounting shock.

Jungkook didn’t hit you too hard (he knows your limits), though he may as well have with how hypersensitive your pussy is. And still, amid prickles of pain, fresh arousal gushes from you to soak the length of his palm.

Cooing, he says your name, his lips cradling the syllables like a precious secret as his hand rubs circles over your mound. “Are you finally going to listen to me?”

Air hisses through your teeth as his fingers dip into your entrance, and it’s all suddenly too much. You drop too far, too fast. Lost and left adrift. Small. Fragile.

Heart lurching in your chest, the bitter ache throbbing in time with your pulse. Reminding you of how empty you are.

Sobs drip from your lips like dew drops, unintelligible words frantic as they break through the great, heaving gasps, “J-Jungkook, I can’t… Please, ‘m sorr- I can’t.”

“Oh, baby. You look so pretty when you’re such a fucking mess.”

Your breath hitches.

It feels like your skin’s too small, stretched tight over your bones until you’re bursting at the seams. The slightest touch will make you shatter to pieces, scattered across the floor like shards of fine china.

Before you spiral too far beyond his reach, Jungkook guides you back, keeping his voice low and gentle in your ear while he shushes your warbling sniffles. Affection softens his smile, his eyes dark with perverse pride.

“Stop crying,” he chides tenderly, circling your clit with a ginger thumb. “You’re fine, promise. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Kisses wick away the last of your tears, sweep over the delicate skin of your undereye.

“You did this to yourself.” Jungkook searches your eyes for confirmation, his brows furrowed and lips pursed. “You know that, don’t you?”

You nod, albeit stiltedly.

There are always consequences when you try to give him a taste of his own medicine - some worse than others. This time, you took things a little too far.

Now your cunt’s going to suffer the consequences of your stubbornness, but maybe if you butter him up beforehand…

The bob of his Adam’s apple captures your attention, your eyes tracing over the slope of his jaw, the tick of muscle as he grits his teeth.

Gnawing on your lip, you weigh your options.

You both know you hoped this would happen when you started acting bratty. Jungkook knows your dirty thoughts and filthy fantasies, how soaked you get from the thought of being pinned down, helpless.

Forced to take everything he gives.

… It isn’t even a question worth asking.

“Didn’t catch that.” Jungkook’s lips twitch with amusement, his fingers biting into the soft fat of your hip. “Come on, you’ve gotta use your words.”

The despair gripping your throat in a vice loosens with his lighthearted tone. Wetting your lips, you take the first step towards sparring yourself a brutal punishment by apologizing.

“I know it’s my fault - and I,” you swallow the flood of saliva pooling under your tongue, “I’m sorry.”

"Mm, apology accepted." Jungkook hums, tracing the seam of your puffy pussy. “I’m so lucky I’ve got such a good fucking girl all to myself.”

Heat sinks into the apples of your cheeks, your thighs clamping closed around his wrist. There’s no denying the needy twitch of your hips at his words. A pleased rumble vibrates through his chest and into yours.

“Yeah, you like when I call you a good girl, baby?”

You whine, your eyes rolling back and your lashes fluttering.

Heat pulses through your belly in rhythmic waves, the residual pleasure from your interrupted orgasm kindling to light with little effort. You’d been so close, your body still desperate for relief. Thoughts slow and syrupy, cunt soaked and sloppy.

“Jungkook, please - lemme cum.” You try to rock down on his fingers only for his hand to restrain your hips. ”Fuck! Promise I’ll be good this time - jus’ need to…”

He tsks, saying, “Shh, you can cum all you want.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank-”

“If,” his smile is knife sharp, his eyes full of mischief, his words honey sweet, “you keep your eyes open and on me the whole time.”

Oh.

Oh no.

You’ll be dumb and drooling, starry-eyed and stupid once he stuffs you full. The burning stretch of his fat cock buried balls deep in your gummy walls while the spongy head slams into your g-spot without mercy, your cunt milking his shaft with every gushing orgasm fucked out of you. His name a holy prayer on your tongue.

There’s no fucking way.

Jungkook knows you barely remember to breathe once he’s on top of you, let alone maintain eye contact. Your inevitable failure will taste all the sweeter when it fizzles, pops, bursts under the bite of his teeth.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“Good luck, baby.”

Panic grips you by the throat, your eyes wide and pleading. “Jungkook-”

“You’re gonna need it.”

Well, shit.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook #bts fanfction #jeon jungkook #jk #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine

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ker0senebunny · 2 years

Text

you've always had me✫*ﾟ･ﾟ(walking on a string ii)

steve harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader

part one

summary: steve misses reader a whole lot (dustin smacked some sense into him). now, how does he win her back? (angst, fluff, smut)

warnings: afab!fem!reader, language, angst, fluff, smut (18+), UNPROTECTED SEX (pls remember to practice safe sex!!), kinda soft!dom steve? but no use of sir or daddy etc, apology sex, loss of virginity, PRAISE so much praise, oral (f!recieving), fingering, p in v sex, use of pet names, size kink (for like one second), dirty talk, no use of y/n, a little bit of roughness at the end (but not degredation or anything like that!! cheerleader!reader likes to be called pretty and good while she's getting railed), all characters are 18+, discussion of insecurities, soft tummy steve rights, NOT BETA'D (seriously if anybody wants to, pls shoot me a private message!)

word count: 6,187 (wowza! was not expecting that)

notes: THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS WTF!! when i published walking on a string, i had about 30 followers so thank you so so much for keeping up with my silly little writings. i'll do a little celebration party later - i’m thinking something along the lines of blurbs from a prompt list, so send in asks! without further ado, here's the second part! seriously, thank you all for all the love you've been giving me. it really keeps me motivated to write! i hope you all enjoy this part before i start my taylor swift trilogy and ballerina!reader oneshot!

p.s. i also got a couple of asks that have perhaps inspired a part three (!!!) in the adventures of steve and his cheerleader, so thank you to the anons who sent those in! lmk if you guys would be interested in that xoxo

the things you said are hanging in the middle of my mind, tonight.

i can’t turn them off.

you hadn’t been to family video in three weeks and steve desperately missed you.

winter had arrived in hawkins, bringing with it shorter days and longer restless nights. a tangy cold ran through the air, slipping under the door of the video store and creating a stupid fucking draft. steve watched the door anxiously as the stale air burned his nose. robin snorted. “dude, she’s not coming in,” she said. he huffed out a quiet “shut it, buckley” in response, keeping his eyes trained on the door. she rolled her eyes. “it’s your funeral, dingus.”

now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen you around town either. he never saw your sweet face at the grocery store. or in the park where sometimes, he'd catch you lying on a blanket, enjoying the pre-winter breeze and blasting duran duran on your walkman's tinny headphones. hell, he even went to the library to seek you out. but it seemed that you had just plain disappeared from his life.

only his life.

steve asked anybody who came into family video if they knew where you were; they always made some offhanded comment about seeing you at a party or at your favorite boutique. the one you always got your little low cut blouses from, where trina denman had made you cry once and so he chewed her out the next time she came in to rent a movie -- pretty in pink. your movie.

"steve, you are a dipshit."

steve rolled his eyes and turned his gaze away from the door to see dustin standing in front of the family video counter.

"tell me something i don't know, henderson."

dustin rolled his eyes right back before hopping over the counter to get into steve's personal space.

"hey! man, what the hell are you-"

"apologize to her."

steve was startled at dustin's sudden seriousness. he'd only ever seen the kid get serious about upside down stuff or d&d. or, when he talked about you. he knew that you two really got along when he introduced you to all of the kids, but your bond with dustin ran deeper. you both often met at the old creek to go look at the wildlife there. you taught him about the flowers and the moss that surrounded you both, palming crisp bark and teaching him to appreciate the world around him, inadvertently worming your way into steve's heart even more as dustin regaled him of these tales.

"dustin, she doesn't want anything to do with me."

"because you haven't apologized yet. jesus christ, steve. it's like talking to a toddler. i swear." robin let out a sharp cackle from where she was eavesdropping. steve flipped her off.

dustin sighed. he just wanted to see you and steve happy. he snapped his fingers in front of steve's face to get his attention.

"i'm not a fucking dog."

"i'd argue against that." dustin chose his next words carefully: "whatever you do next has to matter more to her than anything you’ve ever done before."

i'm in a twisted web,

and i can't pull my head from it.

that first day when you came in was one of the best days of steve's life. he couldn’t believe that you, the golden girl, were speaking to him with such softness. but then, the thoughts he tried to cram away constantly invaded his mind, clouding whatever emerging feelings he felt for you. steve decided for himself that you were playing a game - making him the fool. and so he decided on revenge - playing you right back. poking out his tongue whenever he looked you up and down (which was quite a common occurrence). letting you cuddle into him whenever the two of you were seated even remotely close to one another (this was definitely not for his benefit as well). posing for pictures that you’d take with your polaroid camera that was “so annoying” to him (he’d never tell you that the picture robin took of the two of you, your back to his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist, lives in his wallet - next to the first of your little notes).

steve liked to take his time with things and he knew you needed space, but three weeks was a long time, right? it was too long of a time for you to have not pranced into family video, excited to show steve your newest purchase. too long of a time for him to go without smelling your peach shampoo on his sweater after you’ve fallen asleep during one of your many viewings of pretty in pink. he missed the sting of your manicured nails on his forearm when you were so excited to tell him about a new trick that you landed, that you physically glimmered. he realized with a start that he missed your silly notes and the mirth in your eyes as you laughed at a dumb pun he made. he missed how you would light up even more than usual whenever one of the kids said hi to you outside of one of their hangouts that they'd taken to inviting you to. he missed you.

and he fucking hated himself for it. he felt stupid, used, and above all -- guilty. why would he feel guilty if he saved himself from whatever heartache you could bring him? your teary face flashed in his mind.

oh.

because you hadn't been trying to use him -- you actually liked him. a lot.

and he definitely was a little bit (a lot) in love with you.

and he only just figured it out.

robin watched her best friend as his face changed. she snapped her gum in her mouth before plunking down on the stool next to him. "i smell wood burning," she said, "what are you thinking about?"

steve turned to her.

"i fucked up."

i hang my head

and feel the oxygen drain.

agonizing hours passed as he thought about what to say to you. he almost missed the tinkle of the bell above the door, letting him know that there was a new customer in the store. from where he sat, all he could see where white sneakers. his eyes snapped to the top of the doorway, and he shrank in disappointment. walking through the door was chrissy cunningham, not you. she was holding pretty in pink, no doubt to bring it to you to cheer you up.

so, it seemed that you were just hellbent on avoiding him.

chrissy gave him a polite smile as she brought it to the counter. steve cleared his throat. she nodded at him in greeting. robin stood a little further back, entranced by everything in front of her (did she sort of want her best friend to get punched by chrissy cunningham? …yes).

steve handed chrissy her change and just as she left, he jolted to his feet.

“wait!” he said, as if the words couldn’t wait inside his mouth any longer. she hesitated, already knowing what he was going to ask.

“how is she?” he said, eyes honest as he searched chrissy for an answer.

she set her mouth in a grim line as she shook her head at him.

“steve, i’m not going to lie to you. she’s really hurt.” steve felt his mouth dry up instantly.

“would she even want to see me?”

chrissy sighed exasperatedly and gave him a shrug before looking at his wounded face. for however much he was hurting, she knew you were hurting way worse. she slammed her hands on the family video countertop, mustering up as much of a threatening tone as she could, pushing herself to the tips of her toes to look steve directly in the eye.

“i have never known someone as kind or genuine as her,” the tiny girl said very seriously, “so you better fucking fix this harrington, because even though you’re a dickhead for what you did, i know you care about her. and for some reason, she cares about you too. probably too much.” steve opened his mouth to reply but chrissy jammed her pointer finger into his chest. “fucking. fix. it,” she said through gritted teeth before waving to robin and swaying out the door.

you're never running out of ways

to worm your way back in.

the past few weeks have been hellish for you, to say the least. getting not only rejected but belittled by steve harrington, the boy you…love? yeah, love would be the best way to put it. you'd pined after that idiot since freshman year, your feelings only intensifying with time and your prolonged visits to family video. those same visits evolved into impromptu sleepovers due to your absent parents, nights out when the local carnival was in town, watching out for the kids on halloween.

you pretended to be fine in front of your friends, a group made up of jocks and the cheer team. you knew that lucas sinclair, one of the new basketball players, was friends with steve. so you avoided him as much as possible, but that didn’t help. everywhere you went, you felt like steve was following you. seeing the people he loved (because he obviously didn’t love you) caused the rift within you, one searing with pain and self-loathing, to deepen.

there was less of a pep in your step. your gentle attitude remained, but you were more melancholic than anyone had ever seen you. sure, you were always willing to lend a hand or a listening ear, but as soon as you were left with your own thoughts, it seemed like a shade had passed over your demeanor.

you hadn’t let anybody into your room since the pep rally, sinking into a cocoon made of your duvet and throw pillows for hours on end. your walkman was always pumped up on full volume. crumpled tissues blanketed virtually every surface - a palpable reminder of his words to you that continued to hang in your mind. you tried to block them out - to block him out - but steve had become so engrained within your daily routine without you even noticing.

his yellow sweatshirt lay on your desk chair, directly in your line of sight, which didn’t help with your attempts to wallow and just get it over with.

you didn’t even let chrissy in to talk to you - she had to resort to seeing you in public or talking over the phone. your room was your safe space: your zone away from anything (or anyone) else but you.

which made steve’s raucous entrance at 2 am all the more unwelcome.

anyone who knows what love is will understand;

you’ve always had me,

walking on a string.

you’d finally been pulled under into what could almost be described as sleep when you heard a thump and a quiet “fuck me!” you were alone in your parents’ large house (something about visiting your dad’s old boss — you couldn’t care less), which made the nighttime extra unnerving to you as a young woman, alone in the middle of fucking nowhere. that was something steve had known about, before he broke your heart.

you shot up immediately, rolling out of your bed and grabbing one of your sneakers to hold up as a makeshift weapon. your eyes were wide with fear and your voice shook as you spoke, “don’t come near me, perv!” you launched the shoe at the tall, dark figure, striking them in the shoulder. whoever it was taken aback and made a noise of pain. you were reaching for your other shoe when you heard your name. “it’s just me, sweetheart.” you lowered your arm as you took in his outline in the dark. you didn’t need light to know what he looked like; you’d spent long enough memorizing every freckle on his face. the slight gap in his left eyebrow from when he got cut in a fight and it scarred. how the right corner of his mouth used to be permanently curled in a smirk around you.

you squinted still.

“stevie? did you sneak through my fucking window?”

you couldn’t help but use his nickname. three weeks of the cold shoulder doesn’t exactly undo months (nay, years) of pining.

“you could’ve used the front door, you know. my parents aren’t home.”

he hadn’t said anything to you yet, allowing you to fill the silence with your half-awake rambling. he gave you a sheepish smile as you moved to stand in front of him, looking up at him with your arms crossed over your chest in worry.

“why are you here?”

you hated how your voice cracked.

he looked down at the floor and then back at you, meeting your eyes. you hated how you immediately got sucked back into the warm umber of his gaze. he sucked in a breath through his teeth, shaking hands in his pockets.

“i need to tell you something,” he said with as much sincerity as he could pour into his words. you rolled your eyes, turning to get back into bed. “i think i’ve heard everything i need to hear, harrington.” he said your name pleadingly, reaching out to envelop your fingers in his.

you hated how you let steve's warm fingerpads trace the inside of your wrist.

you especially hated that it made you feel better.

“please let me say this and then i’ll be out of your life forever.”

you nodded.

“i didn’t think that you’d want anything to do with me.”

your heart ruptured.

he continued: “you’re this stunning, whip-smart, sweet girl who everyone loves. and i’m just this washed-up guy who chauffeurs for six children and works in a video store.”

steve paused to look at you, not quite understanding the emotion pressed into the creases of your face.

“i thought that your friends put you up to this - to me. i thought you were just using me to get a laugh, so i thought i would use you right back.”

tears bubbled up along your lower lashline. your lower lip wobbled as he poured out the deepest, darkest crevices of his mind to you in your moonlight bedroom. your eyes adjusted to see him

“but then i got to know you. like really know you. and i realized that you were one of my favorite people ever. and then i felt like i’d fallen into your trap. and so i lashed out and i was a fucking dumbass and ruined whatever i could’ve had with the girl i love. what i’m trying to say is - i was an idiot and i really don’t want this to end before we even had the chance to start it, sweetheart.”

you let the tears fall unknowingly, but unlike the gym, steve cradled your face gently in his hands, swiping away the beads of saline that ran down the apples of your cheeks. you sucked in a breath, but it felt like the oxygen cascaded out of you instead; you brought your face closer to his.

“you’re so fucking stupid, harrington.”

and then you were kissing him.

it felt completely natural to you both - no hesitating, no waiting. he moved his mouth over yours, pressing your scantily-clad pajama-covered body into him. you felt the softness of his stomach and the hardness of his chest against you as you tried to get yourself impossibly closer. from where his shirt was slightly unbuttoned, you saw some of his chest hair. a path of warmth made its way down to the root of your core. he pulled away and you whined, chasing his mouth with yours.

he breathed out your name like it was a poem.

your smile was just as bright as it usually was, even through all of the salty wetness sliding down your face.

“i love you, stevie."

he looked at you like he wanted to bring the stars closer, just so you could get a better look.

"say it again," he teased gently as he nosed at your throat, prompting you to lift your chin and expose your neck. he started to pepper open mouthed kisses on your neck.

"i-i love you."

he sucked harshly on one spot, making you softly cry out. you pulled back and watched his pretty face form a pout.

"but you’re gonna have to make it up to me.”

he looked down at you with a boyish smirk, before dipping down to meet your lips with his once again.

“i can think of at least one thing that might help.”

he kissed you with a ferocity, a deep-seeded wanting. you sighed into the kiss and whimpered when you felt his tongue nudge against the seam of your mouth. you opened your lips in a surprised moan and he slipped his warm tongue in, licking the roof of your mouth. you let out another whimper, and he groaned. “those sweet little noises are gonna fucking kill me, baby.” his words were strained, his voice raspy, lips slick with a mixture of yours and his spit. you felt your face warm to match the heat emanating from your sex. he dove in to kiss you again, gently leading you toward your bed.

your back hit your cornflower-dotted duvet as steve caged you within his arms. your hands had made their way into his hair, mussing it far past anything that a few puffs of farrah fawcett hair spray could ever remedy. you felt the ache between your thighs grow and in your steve-induced haze, your hips jolted up to meet his. you were surrounded by him: the feel of his warm, wet mouth on yours. his smell -- lemongrass shampoo and pine cologne and something that just made him steve. steve tasted like promises and the cherry slushee he'd gotten with robin after work. his rough fingertips soothed over the spot at your waist where your flimsy tank top had risen. you maneuvered your hips over his groin again. the tiny bit of friction that his rough, tented jeans provided against your throbbing clit made you whine out his name.

“stevie,” you pleaded.

he moved his lips down your neck, lapping at your pulse and leaving a trail of bruises in his wake. the stimulation only made you move your hips more in desperation. you were already surprisingly close — not even nights alone in your room with your hands shoved down your cotton panties, imagining this very moment, were you ever close this quickly. one of his hands came down to squeeze your hip — not harshly, but as a reminder that he was in charge. he pulled away when he felt you move your hips again. he sighed. “pretty girl, i want to take my time with you. be patient.”

you looked at him through your heavy lashes, pouting a little as you grabbed for him to come back closer to you. “but i wanna feel you!” you exclaimed, pulling him down toward you to latch on to his neck and grind up toward his bulge. he hissed as you found his sweet spot, right between where his collarbone meets his neck. he panted out your name as the hand gripping your hip got tighter; you could see the hand near your face clench into a fist and he breathed shakily. “i want to feel you too, but i have to get you ready first, sweetheart. is that okay?”

your heart swelled so much you thought it might beat its way through your chest. you nodded bashfully as his hands finally slipped under your tiny pajama tank top. steve kissed you as his fingers danced over your ribcage. you shivered at their warmth and giggled when he intentionally tickled you. you felt him smile into the kiss (which did almost make your heart explode). but all thoughts of just how much you loved him went out the window when you felt his hand rub over one of the stiff peaks of your covered breasts. you arched upwards, pushing your chest into his hand. he chuckled at your eagerness and detached himself from your wanton mouth to remove your tiny top. your breasts met the air and steve looked at you in wonder, as if you deserved to be immortalized in the louvre. “god, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured.

you suddenly felt shy, his words bringing you back into the present. here you were, topless with steve harrington giving you hickies. you grabbed his bicep gently with nerves puddling in your still lust-blown eyes.

“stevie, wait.”

he immediately gave you space, asking you oh so kindly, “is everything okay, baby?” you nodded. “more than okay. i just…” your voice faltered and you looked at your hands. he put his hands on the sides of your face, letting you sink into their warmth and weight. “it’s okay, pretty girl. you can tell me anything.” you bit your already kiss-bruised bottom lip.

“it’s just that i’ve never…this is the furthest i’ve ever been with anyone,” you rushed out. you desperately hoped that you hadn’t ruined things with him again. he sponged a kiss to the tip of your nose before saying, “i won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” your eyes widened and you placed your hands over his on your face. “no no! i just wanted to let you know before we did anything else. i want it to be you, stevie. i love you.”

he smiled at that. “i love you too, sweetheart. god, i can't stop saying it.”

it was a miracle that your heart had still remained lodged in your chest at this point.

“kiss me, please,” you cooed, and he happily obliged, removing your thin pajama shorts in the process.

he left soft, wet kisses along the column of your throat, biting down gently on the top of your left nipple when he arrived at your tits. “perfect tits” as he called them. you squeaked and he laughed, the vibrations around your puckered bud heading straight to your pussy. you half-believed that your panties would be sheer from how wet you were.

he kneaded and pinched at your right nipple as he laved his tongue all over your left, giving you little nips that made you squeal and kisses that made you melt under him. he alternated between breasts and when your tits were sufficiently marked with imprints of his teeth, he placed his hand over your searing cunt. he watched your face change, your eyes rolling back, from the lightest of touches. you were equally as whipped for him as he was for you. steve groaned as he felt your thighs trap his hand, pushing the wet part of your panties into him. his eyes rolled back at the sight before him, your tits marked with his teeth, your eyes darkened for him, your pussy rutting into his hand, all covered in white cotton panties with a little pink bow. you whimpered when he took his hand away, searching for relief as your clit pulsed.

“what did i say, pretty girl?”

“that i have to be patient,” you answered shyly. he hummed.

“good girl.”

you burned from head to toe at his words.

he peeled your panties off of you, inhaling sharply as a string of your arousal connected you to the sopping cotton, only snapping once he had your panties partway down your thighs. “all for me, sweetheart?” you nodded shyly and pressed your thighs together, but he caught you and spread them again. “i wanna see you, baby,” he said before lowering himself to face your drooling cunt.

he licked a fat stripe up your slit, making you jump a little and let out a breathy gasp. steve grinned before spreading your folds with his hands and prodding at your quivering hole with his tongue. he moaned at your taste — tart and heady and you. you moaned as he sponged wet kisses to your folds, before moving up your thigh toward your needy clit. he looked you in the eye as he devilishly licked around the bud before latching his mouth onto you. steve sucked your clit into his mouth, gently brushing his teeth across your sensitive bud. you rushed your hips to meet his face and your hands flew to his head again. he gave a little laugh at your want. he kept his mouth attached to your clit as he gathered dipped his index finger into your folds, gathering your slick before pushing into your poor little hole. he muttered a curse under his breath.

“shit, sweet girl. you’re so fucking tight.” you contracted around his fingers at his voice, about to reply before he put his mouth back on your clit, sucking harsher than he had before. you felt yourself get impossibly wetter as steve began to pump his finger in and out of your entrance. you tried to move yourself on his hand, pleading for “more, stevie, more!” his middle finger slid in to join his index and you hissed at the stretch. he stopped to let you adjust and you marveled at how full you felt just because of two thick fingers. he eased the two of them in and out of you slowly, spreading you open for him. you were so lost in the pleasure that he was doling out that you almost missed his calls of your name.

“baby, can you take another one? d’you think you can?” his face had moved to hover over yours now; you could see your juices on his chin. you nodded frantically, shifting back and forth on his already dripping fingers. “please stevie — need it. need you.” he kissed you heatedly as he inserted his ring finger, swallowing your gasp with fervid swirls of his tongue. you keened as you felt the girth of three fingers inside of you; your fingers and imagination couldn’t do steve’s hands justice. he gave an experimental thrust, keeping up with his assault on your clit, with the heel of his hand. he kept kissing you, switching between gentle presses of his mouth to yours and hot, frantic swipes of his tongue. he noticed your cunt start to pulse, steadily getting tighter as you mewled. his fingers squelched as he slid them in and out of your sopping cunt. “steve, stevie, m’gonna-” you could barely get the words out before you let another loud moan. “gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he teased, speeding up his ministrations. your voice was but a shred in the back of your throat at this point; the only response you were able to give him was a high-pitched sob. your mouth fell open and your head tilted back, renewing him access to your neck and chest. you felt yourself tighten even more as his lips brushed across the tender bruises he’d already made. the combination of his lips on yours, on your skin — his hand between your thighs — you were completely surrounded by him. he was knuckle deep by now, allowing your gummy walls to suck him in. your nails cut into his biceps as you breathed rapidly. “cum for me, baby,” he said through gritted teeth. at his permission, you let the taught string in your body snap. your walls tightened like a vice around his fingers, so tight that steve swore it could’ve cut off his circulation. your cunt fluttered around the fingers seated deep inside of you. your back arched off the bed and your gut tightened as the intensity of your orgasm washed over you in waves. your vision blurred as your body went limp, twitching with aftershocks. you said his name like a prayer through it all, finally blinking to clear your vision. you were met with his smug face as he gave you one last push with his fingers. you squeaked at the contact and he smiled at you, giving you a doting kiss on your swollen, bitten lips.

“all good, baby? you were so good for me. my good girl.”

you nodded, thoroughly exhausted, but also craving him. “stevie, i wanna feel you inside of me,” you said, giving him your best puppydog eyes. he gave you an easy smile, before searching the pockets of his jeans for a condom. “oh shit,” he said, exasperatedly. you sat up with a frown as he rooted through his belongings. “stevie, honey, what’s the matter?” he looked at you apologetically. “i don’t have a condom,” he said dejectedly. you reached out to kiss the corner of his mouth, to push the frown off of his face. you gave him a small smile and said, “s’okay! ‘m on the pill.” his pupils dilated, darkening his eyes so that only a sliver of hazel showed. “and i’m clean, because, yanno…”

“fuck,” he rasped out, “you can’t say shit like that to me, baby. i’ll cum in my pants like a fuckin’ dope.” you laughed your real laugh, his favorite laugh, and in that moment, he felt overwhelmed with love for you. so overwhelmed that as he pulled his cock out, he told you again. he called your name softly to get your attention.

“i love you so goddamn much,” he said, pouring every drop of earnestness he could into his words. now that he knew that his words actually did matter to you.

“i love you too, steve harrington,” you said as you leaned up to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. he chased your mouth with his to lay a series of quick kisses to your lips, muffling the giggles that tumbled from your throat. he rose to his knees above you and shucked off his jeans and his boxers.

now, you’d never seen a cock before in your life, but fuck, were they all as pretty as steve’s? his cock was just, so pretty: a red tip that gave way to a flesh-toned shaft, thick with a vein on the underside of his length. his head was leaking in frustration. your eyes widened as you took him in, wondering if his massive shaft would be able to fit inside of you.

he teased his ruddy tip through the wet mess between your thighs, stroking himself with your cum from earlier. he placed one of his hands on your hip, interlacing the fingers of his other hand with yours, letting your entwined hands rest by your head.

“are you ready, sweetheart?”

you gave a soft “yes” in reply and gulped down a breath. he noticed how you tensed up and squeezed your hip gently. “we don’t have to if-” “no!” you exclaimed, “i want to it’s just…what if i’m not good?” his heart almost shattered as he looked at the worry written across your sweet face. he brought his lips to the crease between your brows, pecking you there to tell you to relax your face. “you’re perfect to me already, baby,” he said, oh so honestly. and you believed him, because it was your stevie looking at you like you were the only real thing in his life. “okay, i’m ready,” you said, relaxing into your bed a little more.

steve guided his tip to your quivering entrance and kissed you as he slid the fat head of his cock in. you gasped as he breached your walls, arms winding around his neck. your jaw fell open, slack against where your chin rested on his shoulder, almost impossibly close to him. the fullness of his fingers was one thing, but this was totally different. the stretch was addictive as he slid into you inch by inch. he worked you open gently, and you wanted him to stay inside you forever. he noticed that you’d gone quiet and brought a hand up to comb through his hair in order to see you better. “everything okay?” you nodded fervently, wriggling your hips and mewling out, “stevie more, more.” at your words, he bottomed out, heavy balls slapping against your ass and you made a strangled noise into the air as he moaned into your neck. “fucking- holy shit, you feel so good.” your walls contracted around him and steve had an idea. he started slowly thrusting into you, allowing you to get adjusted to the feeling of his heavy cock inside of you. all the while, dripping praise into your waiting ears.

"you're doing so well f'me," he said, still thrusting into you slowly -- wanting to make this about you, not him.

but something inside him snapped when you said, “stevie, fuck me.” he started pounding into you, jackhammering his hips against yours, making your eyes roll back so far in your head that all you could see was black. his chest hair brushed against your nipples, meaty thighs brushing against you with coarse hair during every thrust. you choked out a loud moan at the sensation, clapping a hand over your mouth at the volume. he noticed that your sounds had become muffled and whispered into the air between you two: “c’mon pretty girl. i wanna hear those sweet sounds you make.” his balls slapped against your ass as he rolled his hips into yours; the sounds of flesh against flesh ricocheted off the toile wallpaper in your bedroom. the wetness between your thighs kept spreading, creating a lewd slap as he plunged into you over and over again.

his spongy tip pushed against your g-spot and you clenched around him desperately. he moaned at the sensation, muttering a curse under his breath and something about how tight you were. you bit his shoulder after a particularly hard thrust, causing him to hiss and shudder. your walls started to spasm around his cock as that big vein of his pummeled into your sticky cunt. your whimpers became faster and higher as you chased your orgasm, steve right there with you. “stevie!” you yelped as he continued his brutal pace. “’m right there with you, baby. let go,” he whispered, his lips covering yours. you did just as he asked, a borderline pornographic whine slipping its way out of your throat and plastering itself across his mouth. you clenched impossibly tightly around him, stuttering out, “want it inside, please stevie,” as you were pushed over the edge. your pussy pulsed and your body shook, muscles tense as he milked your puffy cunt for all of your juices. you sobbed while you came; it was the hardest you’ve ever cum, your intense love for steve amplifying every shockwave. your legs were wrapped around him, heels digging into his back as he gave you one lasting thrust, his hips stuttering. you felt a warmth extend through your weeping cunt as he painted your sweet walls. the feeling of his hot ropes of cum filling you caused you to tighten around him once again, riding out the last waves of your orgasm.

neither of you moved for a while as steve remained inside of you, both of you at a loss for words. he raked a hand through his sweaty brunette mop and gave you a kiss, pushing all of his feeling into it as he eased out of you. you whimpered at the resulting emptiness, reaching your arms out to keep him in bed with you. he smiled, dropping a smattering of kisses to your face. you giggled and held his head in your hands to catch his lips. he pulled away with one final peck to your lips, pulling on his boxers. you sat up with a melancholy look in your eyes, but he squeezed your ankle in reassurance, telling you that he was “just gonna go ‘n get a washcloth for you, sweetheart.”

he returned moments later from your ensuite with a damp cloth, kissing up your leg as he wiped down the apex of your thighs. he wiped himself off and grabbed his shirt for you, gently telling you to raise your arms as he slipped it over your head. he lay down and opened his arms for you, as you giddily landed on his chest. you reached over him to turn on your bedside lamp and he quirked an eyebrow up at you.

“just wanna look at you s’all,” you said delicately, as you let your fingers play with the curls at the nape of his neck. his heart stumbled at your words and he squeezed you tighter.

“i’m sorry,” steve said again, “i love you so, so much.”

you yawned and snuggled into him, throwing your other arm across his body, murmuring into the air shared between you two: “you’re the only one for me ever, stevie.”

he looked at you in the buttery light of your bedside lamp, half-asleep on him, drowsily babbling about everything you loved about him (his jokes, his freckles, his loyalty), nose squished into his neck as far as possible.

and he realized, in that moment, that he’d always walk on whatever string you led him on.

© ker0senebunny. all rights reserved. all original posts of writing are my own words, with the exceptions of quotations from songs, movies, and other media. my work is NOT to be crossposted to another platform, copied by anyone, or translated without my express and explicit permission.

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#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things volume 2 #stranger things #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #cheerleader!reader

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youronlydarlin · 3 months

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warning: crack! Local old man Price being drunk in love with you literally, Gaz being a bit sassy, Gaz being a cutie pie, fluffy

Never in your life did you think that you'd be getting a frantic call from Gaz in the late hours of the night. Telling you to come get the Captain's drunk ass from the pub.

It seemed almost out of character. But Price is struggling to keep himself upright while his arm is slinged over Kyle's shoulder, who looks like he's about ready to cry. You could compare yourself to an angel with the way Kyle looks at you as if you just took all his problems away. He slowly moves the Captain down to the floor, muttering something to him before helping him sit upright. And he doesn't even argue, looking like one of the passed out drunks in the dark alleyways.

Kyle rushes to your side and braces himself by holding on to both sides of your shoulder. He looks, and acts as if an angry mob carrying a bunch of pitchforks were just hot on his trail, quickly looking back to Price then to you, Price. Then, you again. You open your mouth to say something, before he beats you to it.

" You don't know know, but those folks in there were glaring at me like they wanted me DEAD."

He accentuates his words with quite a rough shake to your shoulders, making your vision swim for a moment.

"All because he."

Points an accusatory finger at Price.

"Wouldn't stop talkin' bout you."

The finger is now pointed at your chest. And he pants like that explanation just drained years from his life. You feel sorry, really. Though you weren't the one getting smashed in a pub, it still somehow felt like you had somewhat of a responsibility to keep your lover away from causing a disturbance.

So you tell Kyle a quick sorry, and a ‘I'll make it up to you, I swear. Which he teasingly answers with a 'you, better. Gesturing over to Price, Kyle gives you a nod before you two make your way over to the drunken man to help him on his feet. Even with both of your strengths combined it still proves as a tough job to make Price stand up. He's slightly slurring his words, something along the lines of "Piss off, m' taken..." You don't know. It's hard to make out anything when he's resting his whole weight on both of you. Nearly falling over when he almost trips on his own pair of wobbly legs.

It feels like you just had a boulder off your back when you finally managed to get him into the backseat of your parked car. Both you and Gaz taking a moment to straighten your backs, free from the suffocating weight of the man who's physique is comparable to a bear.

You feel even worse when Kyle immediately slumps to the passenger seat. You hope the night hasn't drained him out much, but by the looks of it, he's probably exhausted. Taking a moment to breath, you try and wrack your brain for a reason on why this happened in the first place. Or more rather, why Price decided to suddenly drink himself to oblivion. Climbing into the drivers seat you offer a small tired smile to Kyle which he offers back.

"M' really sorry for the trouble he's caused.."

He gives a breathy chuckle. Looking slightly guilty himself.

"Don't be. I should've taken it as a bad sign when the Captain's already downed three shots in a minute.."

You both laugh at that, before Kyle tips his head to the Price's direction. Oh yeah, better check up on him. You turn in your seat to get a better view of your lover. He has his head down, fisherman hat slightly obscuring his handsome face, and you really can't stay mad at him. Not like you were even mad in the first place. You're sure he has his reasons.

"Hey, hubby..."

You say, and it sounds so gentle, and soft that it's immediately grabbed at his attention. You try and place a hand on his thigh, when all of a sudden he smacks it away.

...

You're left dumbfounded, eyes blown wide. And Gaz looks as every bit as surprised as you are. Mouth agape, hand slightly hovering over it like he had just witnessed a scandal.

"My partner's gonna get mad if you touch me like that, and m' not interested."

He stubbornly says. Turning his face, and body away from you like a child throwing a tantrum.

You have half a mind to hit him on the head for not recognizing you. But you'd rather not start anything in the car, especially in front of Gaz who looks like he's just watched both of his parents fight.

You sigh, admitting defeat, and starting the car, opting to just let Price explain once he's sober. Minutes pass and you're on your way home, Kyle's tapping away on his phone. Occasionally chatting with you, and aside from the fact that Price is now squeezing himself on the farthest corner of the vehicle to get away from you, you can say that the atmosphere's a lot less tense now. More bearable, at least.

You try communicating with Price again. See if he'll give you a proper answer this time.

"You know, never did l think I'd see you absolutely shitfaced after a night out in the pub.."

You say to him. Surprisingly, he answers you. Albeit a bit gruffly, considering his alcohol induced state.

"Jus' didn't wanna get cold feet.."

"From what..?"

"My proposal..."

"What kind of proposal..?"

"The one with a ring..."

You almost crash the car.

a/n: UHHHHH. If you guys don't get the ending it's because reader thought that Price ment a business proposal or something but he was actually just nervous to ask them to marry him. Sorry if this was confusing 😭. Once again, practicing my fluff, n english skills. So this might be bad. But M' getting better, I think! Ne ways, hope you're having a better day/night, my loves!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

#cod imagine #cod x reader #cod x reader fluff #price x reader #captain price x reader #captain price fluff #captain price x you #captain price fanfic #I LOVE HIM #i love him sm

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headkiss · 1 year

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i have no idea if you’ve gotten a request like this before but i just left my cousins party and i had like 2 hard seltzers and i am just so tired all i want to do is sleep. soooo could you possibly write something along the lines of Steve having a girlfriend who gets sleepy after drinking instead of getting drunk. all i want right now is some cuddles from steve.

hiii idk how i feel about my execution on this one, but i hope you like it! tysm for requesting <33 | 0.5k fluff

Your sweater sleeves are tugged over your hands, the chill of your sweaty drink cooling your fingertips. You’re practically sinking into the cushions of the couch you sit on, Steve’s arm a constant weight on your shoulders and your friend's laughter filling the room.

You’d be laughing along if your eyes weren’t so heavy, if Steve’s shoulder wasn’t such a nice pillow right now.

It’s funny, some people get loud when they’re drunk, some get chatty, but you just get sleepy. Of course, being in love with you, Steve thinks it’s the cutest thing. He soaks up the way you lean on him, the way your blinks grow longer as you fight to keep your eyes open.

“Sweetheart?” Steve speaks low, only for your ears, though everyone can see his eyes turn into hearts as soon as he looks at you.

“Hmm?”

“You falling asleep on me?” He asks, taking the drink from your hand and setting it on the table.

“Maybe.”

His shoulder shakes beneath your cheek with a chuckle, his hand running up and down your arm.

“Do you wanna go home?”

“Don’t wanna move,” you say, pushing yourself even closer. “I’m too comfy.”

“You’ll be even comfier in bed, I think.”

You lift your head from his shoulder and squint at him, your hair a little messy from resting on him, your eyes still heavy. He thinks you look beautiful.

“You’re probably right.”

In response, Steve pecks your forehead.

He stands before you and holds out his hands to help you up, and as soon as you’re standing, too, his arm is thrown over your shoulders again.

“We’re heading out,” he says.

“Boo! It’s barely even midnight,” Eddie says, laying on the couch opposite the one you’d been occupying with his legs thrown over the armrest. “You guys are like grandparents.”

“Edward,” you complain.

“He’s just joking,” Robin says, lightly smacking his head. “We know you’re a sleepy drunk, it’s okay,” she says, pouting her lip.

“Thank you, Robs,” you smile at her.

“Night, guys,” Steve walks you towards the front door.

Eddie’s shout of “goodnight, grandpa!” follows you.

Steve drives with a hand on your thigh the entire way, softly humming along with the radio. By the time you get home, your head is slumped against the seat, eyes shut and steady puffs of air leaving your mouth.

He walks around and opens your door, squeezing your shoulder lightly and waking you, “sweetheart, we’re home.”

You turn your head towards him, sluggish and dazed, but you still smile when you look at him.

“Yay,” you say quietly.

Steve knows you better than anyone else, and he knows that when you’ve been drinking, you’ll be quick to go to bed. He’s just glad that you’re also extra cuddly.

“Come on,” he urges you out of the car and you follow easily, hugging your arms around his middle as you walk inside.

By the time you’re both in bed, you’re half asleep all over again, and you scooch in close to Steve, a leg thrown over his, your head on his chest. He tugs you even closer and kisses the top of your head before shutting his eyes.

The promise of a good sleep and your skin against his pulls him under easily.

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shadysadie · 11 months

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Hot take: the Wittebanes were not Puritans

So since Hollow Mind came out there have been a lot of jokes about how the Belos is a crusty old Puritan. And while he is certainly crusty and old, I don’t think he was a Puritan.

I understand why everyone jumps there, when we think of Witch Hunts in Colonial America the very first thing that comes to mind is the Salem Witchcraft Trials. However, the Salem Witchcraft Trials began in 1692, that is 80 years after Masha says the Wittebros showed up in Gravesfield, and 30 years after the events of Elsewhere and Elsewhen.

If Masha’s information is correct, (which it might not be but we’ll get to that) then Caleb and Philip arrived in Gravesfield in 1613, which is closer in time to the settlement of Jamestown (1607) than the Salem Witchcraft Trials.

The Pilgrims didn’t even land at pride rock until 1620, seven years after the Wittebros arrived in Gravesfield. The Mayflower Pilgrims were really the group responsible for creating the idea of religious charters. They specifically wanted to leave England to create their own religious society. Many other groups followed, (notably the Massachusetts Bay Colony, which later became the home of the aforementioned Salem Witchcraft Trials) but the Mayflower Pilgrims were the first group of religious extremists who came to America looking for their Zion.

Prior to that, the motivation to settle the “New World” was mainly financial. Ships were chartered through the Virginia Company. Which as we all remember from our favorite wildly inaccurate and problematic 90s Disney movie, the Virginia Company was in it for the money. The New World had resources and Britian wanted them, damnit, Glory, God, and Gold and the Virginia Company.

That meant, if Caleb and Philip really did arrive in Gravesfield in 1613, their family likely made the trip for financial gain, not religion. If that’s the case they were less likely a member of an obscure group of religious extremists, and more likely to be either Protestant like King James and Queen Elizabeth. (They could have also been Roman Catholic, evidence for that comes later).

“But”, you say, “weren’t Puritans the ones persecuting witches at the time?”

Yes and no.

In the Americas, Witch Hunts will forever be linked to Puritans, but in Witch Hunting long outdates the Puritans. King James himself, was a witch hunting fanatic, he personally oversaw hundreds of witchtrials. He wrote books about finding witches, and it was specifically the King James endorse translation of the Bible that features the infamous “thou shalt not suffer a witch to live” (in many prior translations the word witch is something more along the line of “sinner” or “evil doer”). By many estimates, upwards of 1500 people were executed for witchcraft as a result of his reign. If we are going with Masha’s 1613 timeline, the brothers would have left England smack dab in the middle of his reign, right after the King James Bible was published.

(^this GIF has nothing to do with the Owl House, I just love sassy Gay King James in his bird mask, look at this cocky ass bastard, you know him and Belos would have been genocide buddies)

However, I can’t pretend to be focused on some semblance of historical accuracy and take Masha’s information at face value, even in the context of the show it wouldn’t add up because according to the sign we see in Yesterday’s Lie, Gravesfield was established in 1635.

(Granted there is a difference between a settlement and a town, it is possible that 1635 was when Gravesfield was officially acknowledged as a town and the boys just lived there pre-establishment).

However, in the name of historical accuracy, I have to assume Masha got the date wrong, because the English didn’t even settle in Conneticut until the 1630s. The Conneticut Witch Trials began in the 1640s. By this timeline and demographic, the likelihood of Caleb and Philip being Puritans goes up by a lot.

However, if we look at Philip’s clothes an his goals, there are still signs that don’t point to Puritanism. First look at the clothes Caleb and Philip wear as children:

Philip’s pants are red and Calebs are green. While it is a myth that Puritans could only wear black, the colors that they were allowed to incorporate into their wardrobe were typically still neutrals (dark yellows and beiges). Green would be pushing it, and red would be unbelievably bold.

Additionally, the ruffles on Philip’s shirt in the journal and Jacob’s book, would have been seen as incredibly vain.

The blue/black coat that Caleb wore in the puppet show, and Philip later wears in Elsewhere and Elsewhen and King’s Tide has gold buttons and gold embroidery. Gold and Silver accessories of any kind would have been considered incredibly sinful and conceited.

Which would also make it really weird for a Puritan to choose gold to represent himself. Infact his whole emperor authentic is much more reminiscent of the Catholic Pope. His own role as the messenger of the Titan’s will is also very papal in nature.

Finally there is the term he uses, “Witch Hunter General” is an illusion to “Witch Finder General” which was a rank made up and used by Protestant Matthew Hopkins and not really used by any Puritans. Such a title would also probably have seemed pretty vain.

Now you might say, “It’s a fictional story, why does any of this matter?”

The answer is: It does not, but I am high and have ADHD and this was the rabbit hole I fell down.

#the owl house #owl house #toh #wittebros #wittebane brothers #philip wittebane #caleb wittebane #witch trials #witch hunts #history #belos #emperor belos

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confused-pyramid · 2 years

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It's Always Been You

pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x fem!reader

summary: As Iceman's daughter, you and Rooster grew up together, but your friendship transforms when you are assigned to train for a dangerous mission that's never been accomplished before.

word count: 5.7k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (f!receiving), Top Gun: Maverick spoilers, mentions of illness

a/n: I watched Top Gun: Maverick twice (once for the plot, once for Miles Teller lol), so here's the Rooster fic that emerged from that

You push open the door to The Hard Deck, wiping away the droplets of sweat that are forming along the back of your neck in the dry California heat. Two weeks ago you got the call that you were being sent back to North Island to train for an urgent mission with an elite group of aviators, and you were excited for the opportunity to see pilots from your class at TOPGUN again.

The Hard Deck was the place you went for a cold beer and a hearty game of pool when you were still in training, and you knew that this was the best place to look if you wanted to find the rest of the team. You don't see them at first, but you immediately hear the arrogant timbre of Hangman's voice, carrying across the busy bar. Smiling to yourself, you stroll up to the pool table that Phoenix and the guys are crowded around, announcing your entrance with a "So who's winning?"

Fanboy and Payback grin at you from across the table as Hangman shoots you a cocky smirk, "Who do you think, darlin'?"

Rolling your eyes, you grab the pool cue from his hand and line up a shot, feeling his presence still behind you. Taking a breath in, you slide the cue back, whacking him in the gut, before shooting it forward and sinking your ball into the pocket.

You hear a groan behind you and you smirk, holding out the cue for him to take back, "Call me darling again, and I'll stick this somewhere you'll never find it."

A series of ooh's ring out around you, but you barely notice because another voice cuts through the chaos, "Come on now, Falcon. That's no way to make friends."

You spin around at the sound of your call sign, your jaw dropping as you take in the aviator-clad man grinning at you.

"No fucking way!" you gasp, launching yourself forward and into his arms for a barreling hug. "Rooster!"

He looks good, you think, when did that happen?

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw wraps his large arms around you, squeezing you tight before letting you go with a husky laugh. "Good to see you too, y/n."

"Well, if it isn't the other half of the nepotism duo," Hangman quips, souring your mood almost immediately. "You know, some people had to actually work their way here, instead of being handed everything."

Rooster doesn't react, but you don't have the self-control he does, "You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"We'll certainly see about that, won't we?" he smirks, cocking his head in a condescending tilt. "Admiral Simpson assembled us all here for a reason, and there's no way in hell he needs all of us for one mission."

You know he's right, but before you can think of a witty response, you hear a bell ringing, and cheering erupts from around the bar. You turn back to see Rooster grinning at Hangman, his finger pointing at the sign hanging above the bar, "You disrespect a lady and you buy a round for everyone."

Phoenix smacks Hangman on the back, laughing as she ushers him towards the cash register where Penny is waiting, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

You're still trying to shake off Hangman's comment when Bradley sidles up next to you, his hip checking yours as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Don't let him get to you. Iceman was a legend, but we both know you did this all on your own."

You would think that having an Admiral for a father would have made your life in the Navy much easier, but the moment you showed any interest in flying, your dad, Iceman, had stopped supporting your dreams. When the diagnosis came in, everything else fell to the back burner and the only thing you could concentrate on was how much you loved him and wanted him to fight. But sometimes, the hurt was still there. You knew he was just scared for you, especially after what he had seen with Rooster's dad, but his efforts to keep you away from the career he had successfully built had strained your relationship.

It was Bradley who pulled you two back together. After his dad died, he became a staple at the Kazansky household, always welcome for holidays and pretty much every other day too. He managed to toe the line between pushing you to become the best pilot you could be, and helping you regain your relationship with your father. He was your best friend growing up, and even though you split off in the naval academy, he was still a pillar in your life that was never going anywhere.

~~~

With Hangman buying, the night passes quickly, and the next morning you are sitting with the rest of the team, waiting on your instructor to show up. You tap your foot on the floor of the hangar, impatience building up inside of you, until the sound of footsteps alerts you.

Turning around, you spot the man walking towards you and your eyes widen with surprise and then concern. You sneak a glance at Rooster, trying to gauge his reaction to seeing Maverick for the first time in years, but the only response you get is the tightening of his jaw. The lesson starts off well, but when Mav begins the air drills, the tension between him and Rooster comes to a head.

He starts you off first, giving you a few minutes to get settled in the air, before he's right on your tail. You try to shake him, but your wingman is too far back and you don't have eyes behind you, so it only takes him a minute to "shoot you down". Payback and Fanboy's excellent idea to get some skin in the game has the three of you on your hands with Hondo, sweat dripping from your face onto the tarmac as the California sun beats down on you.

After what feels like an hour, you are hobbling back into the control room, listening to the radio as Rooster takes off. He starts off strong, managing to evade Maverick's maneuvers, but you don't miss the quiet snipes that shoot back and forth across the comms as they zoom through the air. You zone out for a moment, but you must've missed something important, because the next thing you know, Mav and Rooster are engaged in a dangerous maneuver that has been spinning towards the ground.

"They passed the hard deck," Phoenix gasps while everyone stares intently at the radio, as if hoping that this will somehow convince them to pull up their control sticks. You feel like you're under 10 Gs of force with how heavy your body feels as Bradley spins down to the earth, neither of them giving up even an inch of their pride.

It feels like a million years before he finally gives in, the nose of his jet a mere kilometer from the ground as he pulls out of the downward spiral. The weight on your chest finally lifts when he lands back on the base, and you don't wait for him as you head back to your cabin. No doubt Admiral Simpson will be chewing him out for his idiotic stunt today.

~~~

You're heading out to grab dinner that night when you run into Bradley, who is just getting back from the hangar. You're so angry that you can barely look at him, but he stops in front of you, forcing you to confront him.

"I get that you're mad at Mav," you grit out, "but why the hell would you put yourself in danger just to prove whatever the hell you were trying to prove to him!"

He's all you have, your thoughts spiral against your will, doesn't he know that it would kill you to lose him?

His brows furrow with frustration as he straightens his back in an unconscious effort to size you up. "Don't patronize me. You wouldn't understand, y/n."

You scoff. "The hell I wouldn't. We grew up together Bradshaw, I know you inside and out."

"Yeah, well your dad isn't fucking dead."

You stop in your tracks, his words a slap in the face. Fluorescent hospital lights flash across your mind as you are unwittingly brought back to the early days of your dad's cancer diagnosis.

Rooster's expression falls immediately and you see pain flash across his eyes as he takes a step forward and says, "God, y/n, I'm so sorry, you know I didn't mean that. Iceman was like a father to me. What he's going through now is killing me too."

He pulls you into a hug and after a moment, you reciprocate, your arms winding around his waist. You take a deep breath, breathing in his familiar musky scent that reminds you of home.

You both stay in the embrace for a minute before he whispers, "You were right. What I did up there today was stupid. I won't do it again."

You can hear the sincerity in his voice as he says it, and you believe him. Bradley Bradshaw has never lied to you, even when it hurts. But you would take his steadfast honesty over all else any day.

~~~

You wake up the next day to a note on your door that says to 'dress light and head to the beach behind The Hard Deck'. You pull on a sports bra under a tee shirt and denim shorts, before meeting up with the rest of the team outside of the base. You all head over to the beach and find Captain Mitchell grinning, two footballs in his hands.

"Welcome to dogfight football!" he yells over the lull of the waves crashing against the shore. "Form two teams and line up."

Hearing his directions, you and Rooster look over at each other, an implicit agreement in your eyes. You both line up on one side with a few of the guys, as Hangman and Coyote grab the rest and form a line in front of you. Rooster and Hangman take the balls, crouching down into position as they get ready to start the game. Mav whistles, signaling the beginning of game play, and suddenly the makeshift field becomes a flurry of motion.

At first, you lose track of where your team is compared to the other guys, but as the game progresses you slowly realize Maverick's genius. This game is perfect for honing your precision and focus, which will be absolutely vital when a select few of you are bombing the uranium enrichment plant in a couple of weeks.

Rooster catches the ball as Fanboy hikes it to him, falling back to get a better view of the beach and find open targets. He sees you slanting out to the side, but Coyote keeps getting in the way, so he turns his attention over to Payback, who sprints across the shoreline, losing his defender in the process. Bradley slings the ball across the sand, but just as it's about to reach Payback, someone from the other team swats it down.

Clapping his hands to shake off the initial defeat, he swings his finger in the air to round up the team for another shot. He is scanning the beach, trying to locate everyone on his side, when his eyes land on you, all the way across the sand. He opens his mouth to call out to you, but then your hand grips the hem of your shirt and every thought flies out of his mind.

You lift the edge of your shirt, pulling it over your head, and he knows he should probably be looking away, but he can't take his eyes off of you. He's barely paying attention as Phoenix presses the ball back into his hands, but then he regains his focus when you start sprinting to the opposite side. You swing around the side and dodge Hangman's arm as you yell, "Rooster, over here."

Blinking a few times to get re-oriented, Bradley zings the ball over to you, relishing in the satisfying thud as it lands in your waiting hands. Cheers break out all around him, and he grins at your success, but his mind is still stuck on the smooth expanse of your tanned skin that glinted at him under the harsh sunlight.

The game continues for a while, and eventually you see a ball flying way over your head, zooming into what looks like no man's land. You start running but then it thunks into Bob's hands. Everyone pauses for a moment of shock, before you all erupt into cheers that end up in Bob being lifted into the air like he just shot the winning goal in the World Cup.

You pat him on the back, laughing at the proud look on Bob's face. As if pulled by a magnet, your eyes travel down the pile until they land on Rooster's. His eyes meet yours instantly, a bright grin plastered on his face. You're already sweating buckets under the hot sun, but one look from Bradley has a warmth spreading across your chest that you haven't felt since you were young.

This was Bradley Bradshaw, the valiant knight who graced all your childhood dreams. He always is and always has been the face you search for in a crowd. He's never been fearless, but he's your rock. Whenever you look at him, you feel like the world is at your fingertips.

Stepping back as the boys jostle him around, you can't help the grin that crosses your face. For the first time since you started here at TOPGUN, you actually feel like you're part of a team. A family.

~~~

Everyone heads back to the cabins covered in sweat and sand, and the showers are filled up before you can even grab your clothes. As you're waiting for one of the stalls to open, you get a call from Mom that sends a jolt of panic down your spine.

"Mom?" you answer, trying to keep the apprehension from your voice. "What's going on?"

"Oh, honey, it's nothing sudden," she says kindly, clearly sensing your worry from miles away. She always knew what you were thinking, even when you tried your best to hide it. "It's just what we've seen coming for a while now, sweetheart."

You can hear the wetness in her voice and you know she's been crying. The image sends a dagger through your stomach. "It's getting close to the end. You should come see Dad."

Mom hid a lot of things from you growing up - always to protect you - but the one thing she never could was your dad's illness. The signs of his weakening state were ever-present and although he tried to ignore them, you never could.

"I'll come today," you say, your voice hoarse from the tears building in your throat. "See you soon, Mom."

The call ends and you open your phone again, the need to text him almost a gut instinct.

You going to see dad. come with?

His response is immediate.

Bradley🐓 always. i'll meet you outside in 20

You take the fastest shower of your life and head out front to see Bradley already outside on his motorcycle, helmet in hand. He must see the look in your eyes because he doesn't say anything as you hop on behind him and wind your arms around his waist. Your fingers dig into the hard ridges of his stomach as he zooms down the quiet streets of Fightertown. The cool breeze brushing past your face helps clear your head as you pass by the houses neighboring the glistening water.

Bradley takes the turns carefully, but you were never much of a biker, and your arms stay tightly wound around his hard abdomen. You can feel the muscles in his back flexing against your chest, and not for the first time, you are struck by how much of a man he has become. You grew up with him, so you never really noticed how he was changing, but all of a sudden, he has become this gorgeous, hardworking man who's a far cry from the young boy who used to pull your pigtails on the playground.

It's not long before you arrive at your childhood home, Rooster's bike pulling to a stop by the front lawn. You haven't even made it fully up the porch when the door swings open, your mom's melancholy expression greeting you from the doorway.

When you two make it inside, she pulls you both into big hugs, remarking on how glad your dad will be to see you both again. The walk to Dad's study feels like a marathon, and by the time you get the door open, you can barely breathe. But then you see him, and the weight on your chest disappears.

He looks worn down and tired, but he's here. He's alive, and he's okay, and even though it's taking everything in him to fight this illness, he's doing it. You fight back tears as he smiles at you from his desk, bundled up in a sweater even though the sun is shining brightly through the bay windows.

"Hi, Dad," you smile, kissing his forehead and pulling out a chair, before Bradley shakes his hand and takes a seat next to you. "You look great."

"You really do, Admiral," Bradley nods, meeting your eye for a moment in a quick show of moral support. Just the one look from him settles you, and you turn back to your father, excited to fill him in on your mission.

You and Rooster tell him about the grueling training you've undergone this past week and he listens intently, smiling brightly as you talk about Maverick and how he pushes every boundary and limit he can find.

After about an hour, the sun starts to set and you know you have to get back to the base before it gets dark.

"It was great to see you again, Iceman," Bradley says, giving your dad a quick hug that you can tell means a lot to the both of them.

When you guys start to leave, your dad beckons for you to stay back a moment. Bradley murmurs that he'll be waiting for you outside, and pulls the door closed behind him.

You take a seat again, turning to face your father, who has a look on his face that you don't recognize. He opens his mouth to speak, and you try to stop him, knowing that it just hurts him, but he waves away your concern, pressing your hand into both of his.

"Y/n, you know I didn't want you following in my footsteps in the Navy after I saw how it affected my closest friends," he whispers, his voice raspy with disuse. This isn't what you wanted to talk about with him today, but since he brought it up, you can't help the nerves that bubble up inside of you before he continues speaking. " But you have become such a strong, beautiful, independent woman, and I am so grateful that I got to see it."

You had long since come to terms with the notion that your father wasn't going to be in support of your life choices, but to hear him finally express what you've been trying to show him for years makes up for everything. Your eyes well up with tears and you exhale slowly, "I love you, Dad."

He stands up, and you rise with him, pulling him into a big hug that makes you feel like a kid again. You're about to pull away, when you hear his gentle rasp by your ear. "He loves you, too. I can see it."

~~~

You are still thinking about your father's words when you walk out front and see Bradley on his bike, waiting for you with a bittersweet smile on his face. He hands you your helmet and helps you onto the motorcycle, before turning back to look at you again.

"He's fighting so hard to stay here for you and your mom," he says, his voice bringing a welcome warmth to the pit that is slowly forming in your chest with each strained breath your father takes. "I'm so lucky that I got to know him as well as I did."

Leaning forward, you pull Bradley into a hug that he reciprocates immediately. Your body is small and warm against his, and he presses his face into your neck, enjoying the subtle scent of vanilla and hazelnut that wafts up from your skin. He lost both of his parents before he even got into the naval academy, but when he was with you, he never felt like he was missing his family. Over the years, you had become the family he needed, and with his arms around you, he knows he could stay like this forever and it wouldn't be long enough.

~~~

When the Pentagon receives new intel that the shipment to the uranium enrichment facility is coming early, the mission gets moved up, increasing the already monumental odds that are going against your team's ability to finish this and come home.

The intensity of your training is amped up and every night you are so exhausted that you sleep like a log. The week passes by too quickly, and before you know it, its the day before the mission. Maverick assembles all of you back into the training facility and takes a few moments before finally opening his mouth.

"You all have worked incredibly hard, and the choices I had to make when selecting the pilots for this mission were difficult ones."

You've heard this kind of speech what feels like a thousand times, and you find yourself tuning him out as you try to calm your nerves. After a minute, you pull yourself back into the present and realize that he's naming the teams.

"Dagger 1," Mav announces, "Payback and Fanboy."

You nod, agreeing with that pick completely. Fanboy was an amazing WSO and he complemented Payback well.

"Dagger 2," Mav continues, "Phoenix and Bob."

Another great pick. You shoot them a small congratulatory smile, before turning your attention back to the Captain. This is it. Who's it gonna be?

"And my wingman will be...Rooster."

The air feels like its being sucked out of the room. A spike of fear jolts through you as his name ping-pongs inside of your skull, unable to fully sink in. This mission would take not one, but two miracles, and only then was there even going to be a consideration of trying to get home in one piece.

You barely hear Maverick explain that the rest of you are on standby, before everyone is standing up and filtering out of the room. You feel like you're sleepwalking, your feet moving of their own accord as they take you back to the cabins to turn in for the night.

You take your time getting ready for bed, but even as you lay down, the exhaustion so strong you can feel it in your bones, sleep doesn't come. You try everything from counting sheep to meditation, but something nags at the back of your mind, keeping you from falling asleep.

It's not just something. It's Rooster.

Groaning with exasperation, you throw off the covers and pace around your room, trying to calm your racing mind. You try to turn your thoughts away from the mission tomorrow, but after a few minutes of walking back and forth across the small room, you know you have to get out of here.

Desperate for fresh air, you push open the door and step into the hallway. Just as you are considering breaking curfew, another door opens down the hall and Rooster's head peeks out from behind the doorframe.

He's shirtless, only clad in a pair of cotton sweats, and you almost forget to feel ashamed as you ogle his beautiful body. He looks back at you, amusement filling his eyes, before its quickly replaced with something that fills you with the urge to wrap your arms around him and squeeze until you are bonded as one.

Deciding against the fresh air, you cock your head towards your door and leave it open as you walk back into your room.

The door shuts behind you and you sit on your bed, legs crossed under you, as Bradley plops down next to you, his head hitting your pillow as he makes himself comfortable. You are both silent for a while before he whispers, barely audible, "I'm scared."

You turn to look at him, and he sees the understanding in your eyes. In that moment, he immediately knows that you are his person; the person he always wants with him when he gets bad news or good news or whatever else life throws at him. He knows you like he knows the inside of an F/A 18F Super Hornet, and that will never change. Not if he can help it.

"I'm ready," he continues, finding his voice again, "but I'm still scared of what could happen out there. I trust Mav, I do. I mean, I didn't always, but I think I finally see what my dad saw in him, you know. But..."

"It's okay to be scared," you whisper, your voice low as if you're afraid that being any louder will break this spell. "But you're the best aviator I know and if anyone can complete this mission, it's you, Rooster."

He sits up slowly, his eyes never leaving yours and you become acutely aware of how little clothing separates the two of you. The thin material of your shirt is light against your skin and you can barely breathe as Bradley lifts his hand, threading his fingers in your hair as he cups the side of your face with so much care you think you might melt right there in front of him.

Neither of you says anything as his thumb lazily runs down your jaw, stopping right at your lips. "Bradley." your voice is a soft sigh that makes him stiffen.

His hand doesn't move as he looks at you intensely, his eyes seeing you in a way that no one else does. "I can go. Just say the word and-"

"Don't," you whisper, scooting forward slightly on the bed as confidence fills you again. "Don't go."

You would be lying if you said you weren't afraid of the consequences of what was happening between the two of you. Of how this could affect your long-held friendship and your ability to function properly as a team. But in that moment, all you can think about is how his lips would feel against yours.

You lean into him, your palms flat on the mattress beneath you as you press your mouth to his. The moment your lips meet, sparks crackle behind your eyelids, and you let out a small whimper that has his fingers tightening in your hair. His mouth is warm against yours and the prickle of his mustache against your nose feeds the ache between your legs at the thought of it bristling somewhere else.

Bradley's hands move from your hair to your waist as he lowers you down onto the bed, his body hovering over you. His eyes never leave yours as he reaches down to the hem of your shirt, toying with the edge in an implicit question that you answer with a frantic nod. He pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it to the ground, before peppering kisses down your jaw and across your neck. The wet heat of his tongue against your skin has you gasping beneath him and you dig your fingers into the ridges of his back, your eyelids fluttering closed with pleasure.

You grip his shoulders as he returns to your mouth, sliding his tongue along the seam of your lips in a teasing pattern that has you squeezing your legs together to get some relief.

"Bradley," you gasp, feeling him pull back slightly, "stop teasing."

He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around your back before lifting you up and forward until you're straddling him. "Yes, ma'am."

With one deft movement, he unhooks your bra and sends it falling to the floor. You don't have time to be impressed, because the next thing you know, his mouth is on your breast, his lips closing around your nipple with awe-inspiring precision. The warm wetness of his mouth on your sensitive skin snaps something inside of you and suddenly your hips start rocking against his, desperate for some sort of release. Bradley switches to your other breast, and when his teeth brush against you, a sound you don't recognize rips from your throat.

Your hips grind against his faster, the rough material of his sweats creating a delicious friction that has you gasping. He's rock hard against your core, and although there are multiple layers of fabric between the two of you, the feeling of his arousal under you sends waves of pleasure rolling up your spine.

"Y/n, darlin', you gotta stop doing that," Bradley groans, lifting his face from your chest. "I'm not finishing until I'm inside of you."

His words leave you breathless, and you nod frantically, making him laugh brightly. He tugs off his sweats as he moves down your body, kissing down your abdomen until he's at the waistband of your sleep shorts. Bradley takes his time pulling them down your legs, delighting in the small noises of impatience you make from above him.

"Bradley, hurry up," you complain, the ache between your thighs getting worse with each second.

He just flashes you that infuriatingly perfect smirk. "Patience, baby. We have all the time in the world. I'm savoring you tonight."

You can't ignore the jolt of heat his words send straight to your core, but that doesn't make you any less eager for him. When he yanks your shorts and panties off, you're finally bare in front of him, and the sight of you here, with him, has his mind dizzy with desire.

He opens his mouth to make some witty quip like he always does when he's with you, but instead what comes out is, "You're so fucking beautiful."

You've always been beautiful and strong and stubborn, and if he's being honest, he's always loved you. He just didn't realize it.

He wants to be inside of you more than anything, but with your dripping heat right in front of him, he would be remiss to not have a taste. His tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your core, and you gasp loudly, feeling the ache start to dissipate with each ministration.

The sounds that escape your mouth encourage his movements and he presses your stomach down to the mattress as you try to arch off the bed. Your body is overheating and you can't seem to get enough as his mustache scrapes infuriatingly against your thighs. When his lips close around your clit, you're already so close that you come barreling to your release, crying out something that sounds like his name as he works you through your orgasm.

His lips find yours again and your fingers dig roughly into the hard ridges of his muscles as he doesn't wait before entering you slowly, the stinging stretch quickly turning to hot pleasure. You moan into his mouth as he pulls out fully before sinking back into you, his hard length reaching the deepest parts of you.

Bradley's body shakes with a pleasure that overwhelms him as your slick heat tightens around him like a vice grip. His thrusts get faster and faster and your head falls back, arching off the pillow as his name rolls off your lips.

"Y/n, fuck," he grits out as you contract around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to finishing.

Your body starts to shudder, signaling your impending release, and Bradley quickens his thrusts to get you there first. His hand reaches down between the two of you, and he rubs fast circles on your clit that send you flying over the edge in seconds.

You cry out with the force of your release, and the tightening of your pussy around his cock has him following you soon after.

~~~

The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed and a note on your nightstand that reads 'you're it for me. I'll be back in no time.'

You smile to yourself, but then your expression falls when you remember where he's gone. You quickly change into your gear and head up to the base to join Hangman and the rest of the reserve team.

Admiral Simpson has you all waiting by the tarmac, supplied with a radio that allows you to listen in to the mission. The flight over to the canyon is largely uneventful, but when the aviators reach the inverted dive, your heart seizes in your chest. They manage to achieve the first miracle, and then the next, and with each piece of good news, the tightness around your heart loosens up, but then you hear Rooster's frantic voice and your lungs refuse to work again.

When Maverick's plane gets hit by the missile, the whole base falls silent, except for the anguished sounds of Bradley's voice over the radio. When Rooster's comms go silent too, Hangman is sent out to do an assist and you can feel your heart in your throat, beating wildly as your lungs try to force air in and out.

You and the rest of the reserve team wait for what feels like a year, but then you see an old F-14 Tomcat enter the skies above you and all the tension finally leaves your body. When Rooster and Mav land, you let everyone else rush forward to cheer for them, seeing as how your feet can barely move because of how relieved you are.

But then Bradley steps out of the plane and finds you in the crowd. You smile at him, tears glazing your eyes as he saunters over to you and stops in front of you. "Told you I'd be back."

You let out a watery laugh before he lifts you into a big hug, your feet flying off the ground as he pulls you tightly against him. It feels like no time at all before he puts you down, and you're about to put a professional distance between your bodies when he plants a big kiss on your mouth.

You're staring at him, mouth agape, when you hear Hangman's voice behind you, "I fucking knew it!"

#rooster smut #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x fem!reader #rooster x reader #rooster x fem!reader #rooster #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x female!reader #top gun #top gun smut #top gun maverick #iceman #maverick #hangman #fanfic #rooster imagine

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tillthelandslide · 5 months

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A/n: i don't know what this is but... I wrote something, woo? (This does not mean I'm back, this is literally the first thing I've written in god knows how long because I'm so frazzled atm and I doubt my brain will let me write anymore) thank those new photos of Matty in that grey shirt for whatever this is. P.s I've literally just wrote this before Im posting it so it has not been spell checked and probably has loads of grammatical issues lol. Love you byeeeee - Lou

Sweat still drips down his forehead, running along his cheek tortiously slow. Your eyes are focused, following the line, eyes landing on his upper lip and never leaving it. Even when his there, right in front of you, one hand clamping around your waist in an attempt to pull you closer. Your own hands find his shoulders in response to the squeeze he delivers to your waist. A simple "you alright love?" falling from his lips, those same lips that you can't stop staring at.

Well actually it's just above the plump, red mouth that moves temptingly. A strip of hair you swore you hated at first, a fact you let him know, plenty. But tonight (and even before that), Matty with his tight grey shirt on and hair perfectly styled... Well you certainly didn't hate it now.

"come with me" the words leave your mouth heavily, laced with something more, something that sounds like "Matty I want you" to his ears. Your small hands tug him through the corridors back stage, he knows the way without looking, eyes trained on your lips now, all smirky and up to something.

"baby I've barely got off stage" he mumbles when you open the door to his dressing room. You push against his chest, the same chest that's been straining against the fabric of his shirt ever since he stepped foot on that stage.

"exactly" one more push and he's landing on the sofa with a little "omph". You're with him in a split second, legs hooking over his thighs one by one and lowering yourself until he can feel you pulsing above him and you can definitely feel him.

Hard and heavy and desperate. The few words you've uttered and the looks you've been throwing his way, definitely doing their job well.

"you looked so good tonight" you say, head finding a comfortable place by his throat, sucking and biting, drawing low grunts from his throat.

"just tonight?" He says. Oh he's in a mood, wanting you to tell him how bad you want him. And you'll tell him, of course you'll tell him.

"no... Not just tonight" your words aren't what makes his hips thrust up, it's the way after you say them your mouth finds his upper lip. Your tongue swipes over the hair and his hips work on their own accord.

It fucking kills him, makes him buck up and swear and grab your own hips, pining then down against his own and forcing you to roll them.

"fuck" he says, head moving up, further into your lips and tongue.

"thought you hated it" he says, straining his neck more until his mouth captures yours. You want to reply but his own tongue finds yours and your words get caught in your throat, if not for a moment..

Your lips separate with a smack and your eyes fall to his moustache again, coated in a mixture of you and him, a filthy mix that makes your hips roll against him and a moan to slip.

"definitely don't hate it then" he says with a smirk. You smile at him, thumb slowly running across the hair, collecting the mix and bringing it to your mouth. You slip it between your lips as you shake your head.

"definitely don't hate it" you confirm.

"fuck you're perfect" he waits until your thumb has slipped from your mouth and tugs you back, tongue meeting yours again and hips bucking.

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @promocodesorry75 @eaglestar31 @thefrontofmymind @fallingforel @partoftheairforce @procrastinatinglikeapro @poisonmedaddy13 @xthe1975 @all-things-fic @jstbeeingme @rossgirly @juliardk @you-muppet @moodyyyychickx @k4tie75 @insidemymind19 @zzzhealy @maybeiwouldlikeyou @at-her-very-foreign @not-alien-girl-v (add yourself using the link in my bio 😊)

#i dont know what this is but its something #wow i actually wrote something #the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy smut #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 smut

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thewritetofreespeech · 2 years

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Touch your Wings - Obey Me

Lucifer

“Can I touch your wings?”

“I beg your pardon?” Lucifer asked back, gob smacked, in response to your question.

“Your wings. Can I touch them?” You repeat. Hoping for a little more clarity.

“No.” He replied emphatically. “Why would you want to touch my wings [Y/N]?”

You shrug; a little crestfallen now. “I don’t know. They just seemed so fluffy and soft.” Lucifer did not seem swayed. “I just wanted to touch them once. Sorry if that was weird, or too personal.”

You didn’t have wings, but maybe it was like touching someone’s intimate spots. Not something you should just ask off hand. Maybe you had crossed the line with Lucifer this time.

There was a sigh. Then a shift in the air. When you looked up Lucifer had his wings out and presented, not pulled to the side like he normally did when he was sitting. “Do so if you must. I don’t see the appeal.” You smile at getting your wish, and hesitantly reach out to touch his wings.

They’re not ‘fluffy’ as you suspected. The feathers were more sleek, and silk like. They were certainly soft. You run your wings over the row of feathers like gently cascading over the strings of a harp. You feel them shake against your finger tips and realize it wasn’t the feathers that were shaking, but Lucifer’s whole body with a shiver.

“That’s enough.” He said. Pulling his wings back in and concealing them. Unable to conceal the tint on his cheeks though.

Your own cheeks flush as realize that this may have been very…intimate. But Lucifer let you do it still.

“Was it all you had hoped for?” He asked. To which you smile softly before your reply.

“Oh yes. It certainly was.”

Mammon

“Can I touch your wings?”

The sound of Mammon slurping his iced coffee suddenly stopped and he turned to you. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I just realized I never touched them before.” You tell him with a shrug. “I though it would be cool.”

“Y-Yes, my wings are very cool.” Mammon replied. Choosing to hear what he wanted out of your reasoning. “But they’re only for admiring. Like the rest of me. I’m a work of art [Y/N]. So look don’t touch.”

You frown at Mammon’s bravado and sip your own coffee. “What? Is it gonna hurt or something?”

The demon balked. “N-No…!” He insisted. “It wouldn’t hurt…..” His cheeks suddenly turned rather red. Before you had time to asking what that was about, Mammon suddenly changed into his demon form in the blink of an eye and shouted, “just get it over with!”

You almost don’t want to do it now. But, he had gone through the trouble of transforming for you. So you figured you might as well touch them since this seemed the only chance you’ll ever get it done.

Mammon seemed ridged as a board as you reached towards him. You’d never seen him so nervous. Your finger tips brush against the waxy material of his bat like wings. Almost skin like. You realize now, looking very closely at them, that they also changed color. Flecks of gold flicker up under your finger tips as they caress up to the wide spines at the top. It disappeared quickly, but you were fascinated by the shaped and patterns you could draw out.

“Ok! That’s enough!” Mammon snapped, along with snapping his fingers closed, and quickly shifted back. His face bright red now, and seeming to be breathing kind of heavy for someone who had just been standing there. “S-Satisfied??”

You blink once, then smirk at the other, as you realize what was going on. “Yeah. I’m satisfied.” You reply, before taking a step closer to whisper quietly to him, “do you want to head up to your room so you can be too?”

Asmo

“Can I touch your wings?”

“Awwww….[Y/N]~! So kinky!”

Your face goes beet red at his response. Yes, it was Asmo, and he was always saying scandalous things to get a rise out of you. But you also feel like you had crossed some sort of demon privacy line. “F-Forget it!”

“What?! Wait [Y/N]! I was only kidding. You can touch them if you want.”

You feel like you’re being tricked into something (even though you asked for this). Asmo quickly shifted into his demon form. His wings almost curling into a heart behind his back before they fluttered out. “Don’t be shy!”

You suppose you had asked for this. So you might as well follow through.

The demon waited patiently with a smile as you reached out to touch his wings. You were surprised at the feel of them. Despite looking bat like from a distance they felt sort of like….velvet under your fingertips. Surprisingly soft and luxurious, although you shouldn’t be so surprised with it being Asmo.

“Mmmmm….[Y/N]….”

Your hand snapped back when you heard Asmo moan. His eyes closed. Seeming to lean in a little too much to your touch. “That’s it I’m done.”

“Wait? What!” Asmo replied in alarm. Realizing you had not only stopped but were calling it quits. “Wait [Y/N]! Just a little longer. Having you touch my wings is an ecstasy I never thought possible. Come back [Y/N]!”

Beel

“Can I touch your wings?”

The question was so left field, that it even stopped Beel mid-chew. “Why would you want to touch them?” He asked after swallowing.

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly. “I just realized I never had before, and just wanted to.”

Beel seemed uncomfortable for a moment, and even sat his sandwich down. “I don’t….like my wings.”

It was your turn to be surprised. You’d never known that about Beel, and no one had ever mentioned it to you before. He was usually so confident about his body. It never occurred to you that he might not like something about it. “Why don’t you like them?”

“They’re ugly.” He responded immediately. “Lucifer and everyone have nice wings. They look cool. Or cute. Or strong. Mine look like an ugly bug. An ugly, disgusting bug.” He picked up his sandwich again and took another bite out of it, but didn’t seem to enjoy it at all.

You reached out and touched his shoulder. “I don’t think your wings are ugly.” You told him. “I think they’re unique. I only wanted to touch them because they’re apart of you. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t know you felt that way about them. I’m sorry.”

Beel turned away from you again towards his food. Only this time to pick at it. “You…think they’re unique?” His voice sounded hopeful.

The demon rolled his shoulders back as he shifted into his demon form. Taking the weight of his wings on his back. “If you want, you can touch ‘em.”

You almost don’t want to. Feeling like you had pressured Beel into this. But you were also afraid that if you didn’t touch them, that would just confirm his fears. Which were completely false.

Sure, they weren’t as traditionally beautiful as Lucifer’s or the others, but they were still beautiful. Being more insect like, they had a clear appearance through the dark veins of the wings. And when the light hit them, they looked like stained glass through a window. “I think your wings are very cool and beautiful Beel. Just like you.”

The red head turned back to you. His cheeks red, and his eyes looking uncharacteristically bright in the lighting.

Suddenly his arms were around you. Knocking you down off your seat on to the floor as he held you close. “B-B-Beel!”

“Thank you [Y/N].” He said against your ear. His wings flittering happily behind him for what you can only assume was the first time in a long time.

Diavolo

“Can I touch your wings?”

Diavolo looked at you for a moment, and you realize that maybe that was an inappropriate thing to ask. “Yeah sure.”

“R-Really?” You ask back. Not expecting such a quick response. “Are you ok with people touching your wings?

“I don’t know. No one has ever tried before.” Diavolo answered.

You suddenly realize that no one had probably tried before because he was the defacto Demon King. No one would dare ask to touch him in such a candid, casual way. Suddenly you feel very silly, and a little terrified, for making such a request.

Diavolo, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to mind at all.

“Here you go!” He announced cheerfully. Having shifted into his demon form while you were fretting. His hands on his hips, with his wings spread wide.

You took a step closer and carefully touch the garnet color on the interior of his wings. It felt mesh like. Like the skin of a string ray you’d touched once at the aquarium as a child. Except instead of being cold and smooth, this felt warm and tactical. “I never realized how big your wings were.” You remark, taking them in at full expanse for the first time.

“Yeah. I suppose they do have a wide berth for some people. But they get a lot of distance in flight. And they’re good for one other thing.” You squeal very loudly as Diavolo’s wings suddenly clamp around you. Incasing you in a personal cocoon, while his arms wrapped around you and the prince chuckled in amusement at your alarm. “They’re great for catching prey.”

You pout up at him. Not really angry, but annoyed at his trick. “So I’m your prey now?”

“I genuinely think it’s the other way around.” He replied. Using the privacy of his wings to full advantage while he had you.

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