#best friend Natasha x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itshouldvebeenme30 · 2 years

Text

Freaky Friday ||18+||

Pairing/s: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wandanat x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Genre: ||MINORS DNI|| explicit language, attempt at humor, penis, smut, threesome, sex pollen, and penis

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I got busy and still be until next month. I still lurk on tumblr and read stuff but my focus isn't on it so I can't exactly post very often. I have an upcoming exam this week so I'll just leave it here. Thank you for checking this out and happy reading! (Also, I don't know how to feel about this one andddd happy 200+ followers to me! I can't thank you enough so y'all need a head? Kidding, but srsly, thank you sm!)

Main Masterlist:

*gif obviously not mine*

"This is boring, Wanda." You mindlessly flip through the channels as your best friend sits on the floor, reading some kind of voodoo book she got from that Strange guy in relation to her powers. It was part of her training to gain knowledge and control of her ability. Wanda just rolled her eyes while her focus remained on the book.

"I specifically told you that I'd be studying in my room and nothing more. Why don't you go out and bother someone else? You're distracting me. " She sighed and rubbed her fingers on her temple. The texts are giving her headaches, and your constant whining adds to them.

"There's no one to bother because they're not yet home. Steve doing some grandpa shit wherever he is, Sam and Bucky doing god knows what but they're not here, Pietro got a date with Monica, Banner would hulk out if I broke his equipment again, and Tony is spoiling Peter somewhere, and - " You ranted off and Wanda could only use her powers to slam the pillow on your face.

"What the hell, Wanda?" She closed the book and turned to face your annoying ass.

"What the hell, Y/n?" Wanda mockingly counters back. "Why don't you go and bother your favorite person then? I have to practice my magic here, Y/n."

"Who? You're my favorite person." Your face scrunched in genuine confusion, and Wanda couldn't help the blush becoming prominent on her face.

"Aside from me, you idiot. I'm talking about Natas- " You defensively sat up straighter at the mention of the name.

"Woah, woah. Hold your tits, Maximoff. Why would she be my other favorite person aside from you? She hates me! And I don't even like her!" Wanda just raised her eyebrows in amusement. Your loud thoughts of each other, as well as the longing glances you throw when you believe the other is not looking, beg to differ.

"When are you gonna stop denying your obvious boner to each other? Honestly, it's getting annoying at this point. I've shipped you two since- " This time you jumped off of the couch and started pacing around the table.

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Maximoff. Have you seen her? She had done nothing but constantly aggravate me and make my life miserable! I swear if she- " Wanda couldn't help the few tears that escaped as she laughed so hard at the scene before her. She loves teasing and riling you up whenever she's bringing up the redhead in the conversation.

"Okay, geez. You have to relax. I was just kidding. I know how much you supposedly hate each other." Wanda calmed down from laughing too hard and wiped her eyes. She just shook her head at you and opened the book to continue where she left off.

"It's the truth!" You slumped back down on the couch and groaned. Even when Natasha is not here, she always manages to give you a headache.

"If you say so. Now, are you up to be my guinea pig? Because I'll kick you out if you start whining again. At least you could help me while you're here. " You nod and agree eagerly just to whisk away the thoughts of the redhead that are starting to consume you. You do not fear Wanda's powers, unlike the others, because you trust your best friend with your whole life. Thus, this became the reason why you two were inseparable; you know you've got each other's back.

Also, you're not afraid of anything because you're somewhat immortal. If you die, you just come back again from whatever horrible, or even the silliest, reason you died. You learned you're different when you died for the first time in a car accident. It freaked your whole family out, and Nick Fury had to step in from the hospital where you miraculously resurrected. The journey of becoming his precious agent started there, until you became an avenger.

During the first few months of being Natasha's teammate, you tolerated each other, and you even befriended the redhead. It all changed when you first died on a mission in front of her to save her and the children. She wasn't aware of your special ability, so imagine her surprise when you came back the next day and greeted the team like you hadn't just died. You apologized of course but Natasha was furious, and that started the day when you two would just constantly be in each other's throat.

"Never ever try to save my life, again." You think she's being ridiculous. Of course, you'll give your life for your teammates, especially those who were very dear to you. What else could this gift- or curse- be of use if you don't try to save everyone? Even though your ability is still a mystery, you strive to use it in the way you believe is fitting. However, it does not imply that you are reckless, despite Natasha's daily assertions to the contrary. You are simply unlucky in those situations because of your desire to protect everyone.

"So, are you feeling anything?" It's been two hours since Wanda starts practicing spells on you and nothing special yet to happen.

"Uh, sleepy. You sure you read those correctly?" You yawned to emphasize your point, and Wanda couldn't help but yawn, too. Her eyelids were drooping in tiredness, so she decided she was done for the day.

"I think? Well, nothing happened so there's no win or lose here. I wanna take a nap." She stretches before making her way on the bed. "You coming?"

"Of course, wouldn't miss to cuddle with you." You joined over to her side and spooned her smaller frame. Another reason why she loves being beside you because you give the best warm cuddles in her opinion. The two of you ended up napping the whole afternoon.

"Y/n... Y/n... Wake up." You feel someone shaking you and you just groaned in response.

"You have to scoot over. Something's poking me." Wanda mumbles sleepily but still shakes you a bit stronger because the thing is starting to bother her. When you just grumbled, she turned to face you and covered your mouth and nose. You jolted awake at the sudden lack of air and confusedly sat up.

"Why are you trying to kill me?" When you sat up, an obvious tent was formed in the crotch area of your sweatpants. Wanda just curiously stared at it.

"Did you wear your special toy or something?"

"What?" You followed her line of sight and were even more confused. You don't remember wearing anything because you had no plans, or whatever.

"I didn't- What the hell?" It shook you to the core when you peeped inside. There's no toy, only the real deal. You have a penis. YOU HAVE A PENIS?!

"Wanda! What is this?" You shrieked and Wanda has to peek what you saw. Her eyes widen comically and before she could muster a word, you sprinted to the nearby bathroom.

You pulled your sweatpants down and it sprung proudly. You hissed when the cold air hit and it stiffened even more. It's huge and very real. You thought you must be dreaming, but when you pinched your arm, it was still there.

"Y/n, you okay in there? I'm coming in." You're head is all over the place so you come to pay no mind to Wanda coming in to see you.

"What the hell is this? How the fuck did this happen?!" You faced Wanda and the poor girl was met with your additional appendage situated very proudly between your thighs.

"Woah, that's- uhm, uh. I can't. I have no clue and I got no words." You feel no shame at that moment because you're freaking out.

"Did you just give me a penis? Get this thing off!" You hysterically said and Wanda did not hesitate to approach and give your shoulder a light squeeze.

"Okay, first of all, calm down. We'll figure this large- uhm I mean this huge- uh problem. Take deep breaths with me. 1... 2... 3... " You followed the brunette and slowly, you calmed down.

"Is this thing permanent? Is it ever going away? " You couldn't stop the questions running through your mind, and Wanda hadn't had the slightest clue.

"Honestly? I have no idea. Let me check the book real quick. Wait here. " It's absurd that she thinks you're going anywhere with your pants down and this thing on you. You could only put your head down with your hands on your face on the counter. It's stressing you out, and why does this thing hurt?

"You want the good or bad news first?" Wanda came back with the book on her hand. Seeing your defeated face, she chooses the good news first. "Good news it is. Well, it's not permanent. It's gonna go away eventually." You sighed in relief. You raised your brow urging her to continue what the bad news was.

"The bad news is... it didn't indicate for how long." You take a deep breath and another whip of cold air hits. You lightly hiss when it twitches. Wanda notices your pained expression.

"You okay? I'm really sorry- "

"It's okay, Wands. I just freaked out. I'm not mad or anything. Its just... hurts. And I don't know why it won't go down!" You frustratingly huff. Wanda has to bite back a giggle.

"You think I know how it's supposed to work? Perhaps we should ask for someone's help... " She wiggles her brows suggestively, and you instinctively know what she's up to.

"Absolutely not. I'm just gonna go... jerk or something to make it go away. I'm going back to my room. Not a word to anyone." You start pulling your sweatpants up and walk to the door. Wanda tries to open her mouth and suggest another thing but you already made your way outside.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me, okay?" You could only nod defeatedly.

All throughout the dinner, you were silent. Natasha is perplexed because usually when she opens her mouth, you already have something to snark about. She couldn't help but feel concerned when you didn't merely cast a glance at her or everyone at all. Wanda's concerned look being thrown at your way didn't alleviate the worry rising up.

"Something happened, Y/n? You're unusually quite. Natasha here looks like a kicked puppy because you won't pay attention to her." Tony playfully asks, but you know he means well. Wanda elbowed you lightly to get your attention.

"Huh? Oh, nothing." You continued poking the food with your fork.

"Trouble in paradise, sis?" Pietro teasingly says and the others starts to giggle while the three of you, Wanda and Natasha just merely frowned.

"We're not- "

"It isn't- "

You and Wanda spoke at the same time, and Natasha couldn't help but feel jealous of your closeness. She starts to get up from her seat.

"Well, I hope everything's fine because I don't want both of you to get distracted on the mission tomorrow." She missed the shared knowing look between you and Wanda as she left the room.

"We have a mission tomorrow?"

"Can I have your jacket, please?" You whisper beside Wanda. The mission has been successful, and all of you are going home safe. Well, except for the fact that you were exposed to an unknown gas in there. There hasn't been any drastic effect, and you're immortal, so you just shrugged it off.

And out of all the places to get an unwanted boner, it proudly made its presence known. You have your legs crossed and your hands over your crotch, and Wanda sees this.

"Are you okay? Do we need to check you for any side effects? " She reaches for her jacket and puts it over your lap. You're sweating profusely and your stomach coils unpleasantly.

"I- I think so. I feel very weird... " Natasha watches you both in the corner and has to bite back the ugly feeling at the back of her mind.

You were quickly put in the med bay for a check up, only to have them diagnose you that you had been exposed to a sex pollen type of gas. When your teammates suggestively tell you to hook up with someone, you just flip them off and go back to your room alone. You shut your door and failed to notice Wanda and Natasha following you. They were at your door at the same time, and they looked at each other. Clearly, both of them wanted to help you in any way they could.

"Wanda, I- " Natasha doesn't know what to say, and she feels like she has just overstepped some boundaries. After all, she thinks you and the brunette are together.

"Nat, I have something to tell you. It's really important." Natasha closed her mouth to listen as Wanda's voice held some urgency to it. "I made a mistake and I think it's greatly affecting Y/n."

"What did you do?" She stood up straighter and her stance made Wanda cower a little.

"So yesterday we were practicing spells- "

"Just get straight to the point Wanda. Y/n's hurting in there."

"Iaccidentlyattachedapenistoher." Wanda says in one breath. She promised not to tell anyone but she can't help but feel responsible and your loud thoughts of being in pain adds to her guilt.

"Say it again?" It was too fast to understand but she gets the gist of it. She just wanted to make sure if she heard it right.

"I said, I accidently attached a penis to her." Wanda says in a hushed and hurried tone. Her face blushed in confession, whether it was from the embarrassment or something else.

"Oh... "

"Yeah, so we need to help her. She's grunting in pain in the bathroom, Nat. I have to unlock this door because she's not in the right headspace." Natasha just simply nodded and let the girl do her work.

The cold water did nothing to alleviate the pain and hotness you currently feel. You grip your cock and try to relieve yourself, but it's painfully hard and you're crying to get some relief. A dark thought crossed your mind. But before you could materialized it, your bathroom door burst open and you were too shock to cover yourself.

"Whatever you're thinking, Y/n, please don't. We're here to help you." Natasha and Wanda stood in front of you, and slowly, they approached you. Natasha grabs the nearby towel while Wanda turns your shower off. Your brain is too puddled with arousal, so you let them dry you off and lead you to the bed.

"What are you two doing?" You look at them with wide eyes and your cheeks are slightly puffy.

"We're here to help, detka. It's going to be fine." You couldn't help but lean in to Natasha's touch as she caressed your face while Wanda starts slowly undressing herself.

"I- You don't have to do this... " You reluctantly looked at the two but Natasha held your gaze.

"I want to kiss you. Is that okay?" You whimpered in response and uttered a soft yes before her lips surged forward to meet yours. Her lips are inexplicably soft and tasted sweet. Your hand went at the back of her head and pulled her closer in a bruising kiss. Wanda moaned loudly at the sight and situated herself on your side as she finished undressing herself. When air became an issue, you both drew back to catch your breath, and Wanda softly pulled your face to hers and whispered on your lips.

"I've been meaning to do this for a long time." Your heart soared at the confession and let her devour you with her intoxicating mouth. Natasha undresses and slowly wraps her hand around your painfully erect member. Wanda detaches her lips from yours but quickly latches onto your neck as you gasped. Everything feels too much, but at the same time, you need more.

"P-please... I need you. Both of you." Tears escaped your eyes and Natasha wiped them gently with her other hand while the other pumps you in a delicious pace.

"Anything you want, milaya." Wanda's hand gently pushed you until your back hit the mattress. She didn't waste anymore time on latching and sucking your breast and you tangled your hand through her soft locks.

"O-ohh... " Natasha took your length into her mouth and she starts bobbing her head up and down. You nearly cum at the sight of your cock disappearing into her mouth. She struggles and gags for a bit due to its size. Something switched inside of you and you forcibly detached yourself from both of them and got up. They looked at you confused, but you simply pulled Natasha to her back before climbing on top of her.

You pry her legs open and she just lets you, picking up on what you're about to do. Wanda bit her lip in anticipation as she watched you align your cock for Natasha's entrance.

"Wanda, baby. Go and sit on Natasha's face facing me." She eagerly followed your instruction and adjusted herself on top of Natasha's face. The redhead moaned loudly at the sight of Wanda's dripping cunt and wrapped her arms around the girl's torso. She tugged Wanda down to her awaiting tongue and lapped her vigorously. Wanda moans and proceeds to play Natasha's erect nipples.

Natasha's mouth gaped open when you bottomed her out with one swift motion. You don't want anymore teasing as the coil in your core becomes unbearable. You let her adjust to the size for a moment before slamming back harder and faster with each thrust. Various moans and grunts echoed all throughout the room.

"Fuck, both of you are perfect. S-so good..." You kissed Wanda and swallowed her moans as you fuck into Natasha at a rough pace.

"I-I'm so close... please. Can I c-cum?" Wanda practically begged, and Natasha suckled her clit very hard. The girl let out a cry as you finally gave her permission to let herself go. She separates herself from the redhead and proceeds to lie down next to her to catch her breath as she finishes. You lifted Natasha slightly with your arm beneath her torso as you rutted into her at a much deeper angle. She must be close because of the way her walls cinch around your cock. You feel your own impending release and Natasha's legs locked around your hips.

"B-baby, I'm gonna cum. I have to- " You wanted to tell her you wanted to pull out but she only held you closer. Damn her strong thighs.

"C-cum with me, milaya." You both cried out each other's names as both of you came at the same time. She only released you when you finally spurted your remaining seed into her. You planted a kiss on her neck as she closed her eyes, and then you moved slightly towards Wanda, who's still in a daze. You feel your cock harden again as another desire burns brightly within you.

"Baby, on your stomach please." You flipped her over and placed a pillow under her stomach. Her knees were spread lightly as you toyed with her drenched pussy. You teased her entrance with your cock and she let out small whimpers that you have come to love and crave. You slowly enter her when she gave you permission that it's okay and you're rewarded with a contented moan.

"Oh fuck... Such a pretty g-girl." Your pace is much slower, but you maintained the same intensity as before. Your hands grip her hips tightly, making sure to leave a mark behind. When she finally recovered from the intense orgasm you just gave her, Natasha snaked her hand through Wanda's hair and pulled it back a bit harder to face her. Wanda audibly moans loudly at this, making you smirk to learn this side of her. Natasha connected her lips with Wanda's and they both devoured each other. That turned you on more than before.

You hugged Wanda from behind, your nipples brushing against her back as you desperately thrust into her with vigor. Your hands clasped around her mounds while Natasha's fingers found Wanda's clit and played with it. Wanda cries out that she's close, and she visibly tenses as her walls tighten around you. You whispered praises into her ear and, with one final hard thrust, you released your own load inside of her. Her mouth shapes into an 'o' as she cums around your cock. She slumps as she finishes, and you just stilled there for a few seconds before pulling out and laying between them.

They positioned themselves on your side and you pulled them under your arms. You kissed both the tops of their heads, humming contently as they relaxed in your hold.

"Feeling better, milaya?" Natasha sweetly asks. You still can't wrap this situation in your head as you dazedly look towards the ceiling.

"Better? I feel great, Natty. This isn't just a fever dream, right?" Wanda lightly giggles and places a chaste kiss on your cheek before looking directly into your eyes.

"This is very much real, detka. To be honest, I've wanted this for a long time. Both of you." She admitted shyly, and your eyes widened slightly at her admission.

"Really? I didn't know that... "

"Wait, aren't you two already a thing?" Natasha lifted her head up to look at both of you confusedly. You both giggled and Natasha just lightly pinches you both for making fun of her.

"No. We're only best friends... " You drag out your sentence, seemingly unsure of what to make of it now that you're aware of the predicament you're in. Wanda pried away her eyes from yours, but she stiffened as you went on.

"Is it wrong that I want to take you both out on a date? I'd like to try whatever this is." They both beamed at what you said, and they hugged you even tighter.

"I'd love to. More than anything." Natasha kisses your cheek while Wanda kisses the other. "Me, too." You just smiled brightly at them and kissed each others forehead.

"I have one last question." You and Wanda looked at Natasha expectantly. "Is this thing permanent? Not that I'm complaining, I very much enjoyed it actually." You tried to hide your face on Wanda's shoulder while she just laughed. Their giggles are music to your ears, even though they're tinted because of shame.

"No, but we don't know how long it'll last. Don't worry, I'll have the spell thoroughly examined and memorized for future references. " Wanda wiggled her brows at the both of you, and you can't help but get excited again. You groaned as it gradually stiffened and the coil in your stomach came back again.

"Aw, well you look at that. This looks like a problem, don't you think, Wanda, honey?" Wanda bit her lip and nodded excitedly. "Then I think it's best we should take care of it." These girls are gonna be the death of you one day, if not today.

"With pleasure." Wanda moves to hover above you while Natasha grabs your cock as she aligns it to the girl's entrance.

Let's just say, the three of you ended up sleeping in the whole next day.

Taglist: @sayah13 @iliketozoneout @screechcat

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fics #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff smut #wandanat fluff #enemies to lovers #best friends to lovers

1K notes · View notes

saltsicklover · 8 months

Text

Part Seven

This one is on the shorter side, but there is so much angst and imagery stuffed into this baby. Once again, hurt my heart to write and I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2700+

Rating: R

Warnings: Swearing, illusions to nausea/being sick, mentions of blood and loose teeth, pocket knife/blade, so much angst. Mentions of the Bradshaw's. Dumbass Bob Floyd.

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

Sunny disappears into the crowd, leaving the Daggers standing there, open mouthed and confused, too stunned to do anything but stand there. Natasha takes that moment to bend down to pick up the object that was thrown at Bob's chest; one of those gift shop pocket knives, the name "Robert" engraved on the side. The paint is chipped, the letters once a beautiful turquoise now flaking and faded.

The swell in Bob's chest leaves him feeling flaky and faded too, chipped around the edges from the confrontation. Palms are sticky with sweat, his fingers sticking together. He doesn't meet anyone's eyes- she walked out the door with his gaze still stuck to her shoulder blades.

Natasha is angry now, all the hurt that was directed at Bob has seared pain into her skin. Phoenix holds it out to Bob but he doesn't notice, his eyes unfocused, the colors of the crowd swirling around his vision.

Bob is drawn back to the Daggers with a swift push to his shoulder. He's met with Natasha's burning eyes melting their way into his own. She slams the blade onto the table, her palm doing little to muffle the sound. Bob jumps, gooseflesh breaking out over his skin. The sick feeling swarming in his stomach doesn't let up, and neither do the eyes of his teammates.

"What is this, Bob?" Her tone is sharp, so sharp he can almost feel the way is slices across his skin. Maybe bleeding would have been easier to digest. When he finally flicks his eyes over the object, his peripheral catches Natasha's hand tensing and releasing. The turquoise is older now, worn with age and use, but he would recognize it anywhere. His luck knife. He hasn't seen that knife in ten years. He lost it on Prom night, he lost it after his fight with her. All of his luck must have gone with it.

"Oh my god, I haven't seen that in..." Bob's words trail off, the puzzle pieces finally falling into place. His eyes go wide at the realization, heart beating erratically.

Sunny had seemed familiar to him the moment her hair dropped from the delicate twists she had it pulled back in. From the way it dropped in front of her eyes, the little hints of color peaking out from behind them. He swore he recognized the gentle slope of her jaw, the undisturbed flesh from the tip of her chin all the way up to the lobe of her ear.

Her jewelry glittered in the light, yet his eyes were transfixed to her skin- the familiarity of it. The flesh of a long lost love that he couldn't quite place.

Frankly, he should have recognized her the moment her brows lowered in frustration, after all, he spent the later portion of his teen years looking at that same expression. Suddenly he wishes she was still standing in front of him, giving him that awful look; at least then she would still be standing there with him.

He had only seen her in a dress once, but it was shrouded by the darkness of the sky, then. He remembers it perfectly, the delicate beading and the cool feeling of the fabric. He remembers the tennis shoes she wore and how the sight of them made his heart flutter, laughter falling from his lips. It was the most authentic he had ever seen her.

Bob knows that he could pick Duchenne out of a crowd, blindfolded and unannounced. He could figure her out by touch alone- from the way her breathing would catch as he let his fingers trace over the plane of her torso, feeling her bottom rib with a gentle brush of his knuckles.

That's not to say he wouldn't recognize the way he smelt, the vanilla perfume layered over a musky cologne. Or the way her lips tasted like cherry flavored Chapstick, (something she only wore because it reminded her of how his tobacco smelt, not that he was privy to that information), or how her lips were still chapped beneath the viscus, sticky layer of product.

He would have recognized her touch, the feeling of her knuckles pressed firmly to his own chest. From the way her rings dug into his skin, wrinkling his clothes, and the way his heart tried to beat out of his chest to get even closer to her- if his heart could've touched her hands he would have let her hold it.

After all, Bob walked into love with her with his eyes open; it wasn't until he was already in love that he closed his eyes and let the self preserving hate take him over. His heart was Dr. Jekyll, his brain Mr. Hyde, a story told a thousand times before, yet it's still unclear to himself as to which one happened to be evil. That's how it goes right? The inability to see the evil in oneself only to have it be their downfall, their demise?

Bob would cut the evil out of himself with that old pocket knife, use up the rest of the luck left beneath the still-there chips of paint , and it wouldn't be enough. He would still be back to the same old story, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, this time with more blood and just as much heartache.

So, Bob lies to himself- he lies that he didn't recognize her because she had changed so much, but in reality, he was the one who had changed. It didn't matter that he did it for her; he still lost sight of what it was all for. He lost sight of her. But, he thinks, if he could have just touched her with his eyes closed, he would have known it was her. His heart would have known with it's relative location to her hands. His heart calls to them like the moon calls to the waves; he only wishes it was strong enough to pull them closer.

Bob thinks he might be sick, the feeling of pulling G's nothing compared to the punch to the gut the last few minutes had been. The center of his chest aches, source unclear.

"You better tell me what the hell is going on right this second Floyd, or I am going to kick your ass so hard you won't be able to sit in the jet next week," Phoenix's voice pulls him from his spiral. She slams her fist onto the table beside her. Bob flinches, eyes squeezing shut, tight. He has heard her angry before, scared before, pissed off before, but nothing compared to the way she was striking the fear of God into him now.

"Duchenne," Bob begins, not quite trusting his voice, "That's her, that's Duchenne... Oh my God,"

Bob feels unsteady, the ground is swaying beneath him. His body flushes hot then cold then back again, sweat slick and hot to the touch. His stomach twists, threatening to take his heart in with it. He manages to lean against the table, a hand on the sticky wooden top.

Natasha is steadily putting the pieces together, one by one. It was slow work, like winding red string from clue to clue, not being able to see the whole thing from this close. It's all inky fingerprints and unfocused photographs. Her fingertips might as well have been dyed red from all the the theories she has created in her head, only to unwind them herself to construct another. Her brain aches with the pain of papercuts.

Rooster is still in the dark, the expression on his face giving light to that fact. His emotion is hidden behind the thickness of his mustache and eyebrows, the facial hair hiding the confused displeasure written into his features. He had been too busy keeping Jake from jumping into the middle of the whole thing to pay enough attention to the details, the entire situation like trying to solve a puzzle without the picture on the box, a couple of the crutial pieces lost.

Hangman on the other hand? He is just far enough away to see the whole picture clearly. The whole mother fucking thing, the outline of the string from clue to clue; from the way Sunny reacted, her knuckles white, voice pained, all the way to the way Bob sways on his feet, green around the gills, eyes bleary with unshed tears. He sees it all perfectly, and it makes him see red.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" Seresin speaks up this time, his voice levels above that of Natasha's. Bob flounders, going a shade greener. Hangman is not surprised at Bob's lack of explanation, the man has always been quiet and unassuming, but he doesn't have the patience for this, for waiting.

Bob manages to stammer out a couple of useless sounds, none of which come even close to an answer that Hangman would deem acceptable. Bob's brain is playing catch up, the whole evening on rewind. Hell, everything Phoenix ever told him plays through his head on fast forward, the stories jumbling together in his brain, lacking detail.

Bob was so sure he was going to like Sunny, that she would be his absolute definition of perfect. And fuck, she was, she is, she has always been. And he fucked it up so many years ago and now it looks like there is no chance of any sort of redemption, not with the way Sunny looked at him.

Again, he thinks, maybe the blood would be easier. At least wounds on the outside can be tended with gentle touches and medical care. It's the beyond pained expression Sunny wore and the venom in her words that are forever circulating through Bob's bloodstream that can't be treated. There is no cure for heartbreak, not like this.

"Bob, you will not get a second warning, I will not be asking you again," Hangman begins to move towards Bob, moving step by step, inch by inch, each micromovement a warning to the WSO, speak now or forever wish he had, likely with a mouth full of blood and loose teeth. Bob shudders.

He might be sick. He swallows bile and mucus that have begun to mingle in the back of his throat. The mixture doesn't go down easy, a lump stuck in his throat.

"We went to school together," Bob speaks up finally, the words coming out scratchy, maybe a little detatched, "And I- I was horrible to her. The whole time- I-"

"Robert Floyd, you better be fucking joking. Duchenne?!" Natasha yells, the lightbulb moment finally hitting her. She angles her body towards Bob, now boxing him, right along Hangman's side. "My best friend, Sunny, is your Duchenne? The girl you tormented for years, the girl who you told wasn't worth it, breaking her fucking heart right before graduation?! That Duchenne?"

"Yes," The word fell from Bob's lips so sheepishly he barely hears himself utter it. He lets his vision swim with the colors of the Hard Deck patrons again. He wants to shrink away, fade from existence.

He has never seen his squad so mad, the anger dripping off of them, puddling around his feet. If he's not careful, he might just drown in it, face down on dry land.

That began the yelling. Somewhere between the lack of eye contact that the barely heard words, Natasha's heart broke all over again for her best friend, just like it had the night Bob confessed everything to her in the safety of his truck cab.

Hangman has surpassed pissed. To have seen a woman upset at the hands of a man, was one thing that ignited rage within the man, but when it was Bob who had caused such pain, and when the woman just so happened to be Sunny, Hangman could have torched a whole town.

They were both ripping into Bob, and he just stood there and took everything they gave him. He deserved every piece of it.

Nothing would change his mind from the fact that he fucked up. He could still hear the sound of her strangled cry, the same one that has been playing on repeat since he walked away from her all of those years ago. That would've been bad enough, the strangled cry a broken record in his psyche, but the look of her tear filled eyes is now burned into the forefront of his mind.

He fucked up, worse this time than he has ever before. Far worse.

Rooster used the commotion to slip out of the bar and after Sunny. He found her down in the sand, leaning against a life guard tower. She was sobbing, harsh cries wracking through her body as she shook. He didn't know if it was from anger or if her body was just trying to release all of the tension. It didn't matter either way.

"Hey, Sunshine," Bradley begins, his voice soft "Do you wa-" Before Bradley can finish his sentence, Sunny has thrown herself into his arms, grasping onto the only bit of loose fabric she can find at the small of his back. She tries to speak, the words coming out jagged and hoarse. They aren't anything Bradley can make out. He doesn't bother to try, he knows that listening to her comes later. What she needs, right there in that moment is something to ground her back to reality. She needs to keep from slipping further and further into the atmosphere, her brain running haywire in the clouds.

Bradley brings his arms up around her shoulders, one hand coming up to the back of her head. He cradles her head against his chest, his fingers moving gently over her scalp. He repeats the same movements he learned from his mother, the comforting touches he would receive after nightmares and when he had episodes of grief over his father.

He missed his mother in that moment, as he hums out a melody just loud enough to be heard over her ragged breathes. His brain flashes with images of his father, few and far between and a little blurry. The song was his first. Then it was his mother's. Now it's his to share.

Slowly he sways her back and fourth, the motion small but deliberate. She lets out a deep breath, one that she didn't realize she was holding. The fingertips against her skull seems to bring her crying to a lull, her body no longer shaking. Her hands tremble a bit, still tangled in the top of his uniform. He can feel that it's no longer tucked in the way it should be, and the tears on the front side have turned the once crisp tan fabric into a dark, patchy mess.

"Let's take a seat, Sunshine, so you can catch your breathe, then, if you want to, you can tell me all about what just happened, okay?" Bradley's voice is so quiet as he whispers into the hair at the top of her head. All Sunny can do is shake her head yes before she untangles herself from around Rooster, attempting to dry her tears with the backs of her hands. He takes her by the elbow, guiding her down to the sand below.

Bradley leans his body back against the guard tower, legs spread out in front of him with her body sat between them. He pulls her back into his chest, hands running from her shoulders down to her elbows and back up again, yet another thing he learned from his mother. He had sat just this way with her more times than he'd care to admit. She would say that it helped to regulate breathing, but in reality, it was to help keep her from bursting into tears right along with him.

He keeps his head back against the tower, eyes looking out at the lapping waves. Sunny looks out at them too, slowly finding the courage to tell Bradley everything. He hums the tune again, the silence filled by the lapping of the waves. Sunny can still hear her heart beating in her ears, blood rushing. Somehow, she knows, that this is exactly how seeing Bobby again should sound- crashing, rushing, and a gentle lullaby. It's everything they have ever been, and maybe everything they will continue to be, even if Bradley has to sub in the tune right now, in this moment, under the amber glow of the full moon.

Sunny's hands still shake, pins and needles vibrating from within, like they are being called a million miles away from her; or maybe sixty or so yards away, up the staircase and through the crowd of the Hard Deck, right to where Bob Floyd's heart sits beating erratically in his chest.

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd fic #bob floyd angst #once an asshole #best friend natasha trace #brother bradley bradshaw #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick fanfiction

97 notes · View notes

criminalamnesia · 2 years

Text

Habits of My Heart

warnings: fluff, Jake being soft, childhood best friends to lovers, she/her pronouns used, not proofread, Jake is probably a little ooc sorry, I’m not really good at writing fluff so I hope this isn’t too cheesy

summary: you haven’t seen Jake in months due to his busy schedule, but after he returns from his top-secret TOPGUN mission, you decide to hop on the next flight to Fighter Town, USA.

author’s note: back with some Jake fluff because I’ve written enough angst for him lately and he deserves happiness

update: part 2 is out now! You can read ‘Into Your Arms’ here

You hadn’t talked to Jake for longer than a minute each time he called in the past six weeks. This was nothing new; every time he deployed, your chats were painfully short. By the time you answered the phone, you had enough time to say a quick, ‘hi, how are you?’ and then a ‘be safe, tex’ before the line died and you both went back to your busy lives.

It was difficult, but you were used to it by now. Besides, you two didn’t need to speak every day anyways. You had been friends since kindergarten– having been pushed together by your mothers who had also been childhood friends. At first you had loathed him, but as you both grew, you learned to love him.

You had even held a little crush on him for a few years during high school. Who wouldn’t? He was the star football player with a dazzling smile and a flirtatious tongue. He had all the girls at school drooling over him, you included.

But nothing ever came of it, you were sure of that. You’d rather run into oncoming traffic than admit to Jake Seresin that you liked him. He would never stop teasing you about it, and besides– it’s not like he liked you back, right?

By the time you two were seniors in high school, you’d forgotten all about your crush. Especially after you walked into the girl’s bathroom during prom and interrupted Jake and some cheerleader’s intense make-out session on the bathroom counter. Yeah, that was enough to knock some sense back into your head.

Then you went to college and Jake enlisted. You saw each other less and less– and maybe everyone in the world was right when they said “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” because a day could not go by without you wishing to see Jake’s stupid little grin.

You talked on the phone and occasionally FaceTimed. He surprised you at your college graduation– but after he finished his training and started flying for real, it was rare you saw him. So, that’s how you found yourself here, at some bar in Fighter Town that his mom told you he frequented (how the hell did she know that?).

You hadn’t told him you were coming. He basically just got back to the states himself– he sent you a text while you were on your flight confirming that and telling you’d he talk to you tomorrow– that he was going to get some post-we-almost-died-drinks with his friends.

You couldn’t think of any better way for him to spend his night.

The Hard Deck definitely looked like a place Jake would frequent as you walked through sand to reach its doors. You could see through the windows how crowded it was, and you could hear the abundance of voices inside from the parking lot. Definitely his scene.

You pushed through the glass doors and were instantly swept into the sea of people. You saw many dressed in service khakis, which you silently cursed as it made it harder to clearly spot Jake.

The crowd pushed you up to the bar, which you appreciated. You were starting to feel nervous– why? You didn’t know. He was your longest friend and you were feeling nervous over seeing him again. You almost wanted to laugh if you didn’t think you’d vomit the moment you opened your mouth.

“You okay, sweetie?” A woman’s voice cut over the roar in the room, her kind eyes locking onto yours as she leaned slightly over the bar.

You nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Just fine, thanks.”

“First time here?” She replied, a small smile forming on her mouth.

You nodded, and before you could even speak, she was sliding you a beer.

“It’s on the house. And you’ll get used to the crowd,” she smiled and nodded before disappearing to tend to other customers.

You silently thanked her kindness and took a long swig of your beer, hoping it would give you some liquid courage.

Maybe you were so nervous because you hadn’t seen him in so long. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d talked in person, face-to-face. Maybe last year? You had certainly changed since then, and you knew he had, too.

“You’ve literally been his friend since he was still a bed-wetter,” you muttered to yourself, standing on your tip toes as your eyes scanned the busy bar.

You spotted him in the back by the pool tables. He had his back turned to you, but you’d recognize that blond hair and posture anywhere. Nerves forgotten, you quickly finished your beer and begun to weave through the crowd, hoping he wouldn’t turn around.

As luck would have it, he stayed planted to the spot you’d first saw him in as you finally made it to his little group. Unsurprisingly, they were all in service khakis. They’d probably been on assignment with him.

No one saw you as you crept up behind him. He was lost in thought as he studied the pool table, which gave you the chance to really surprise him.

“Hey pilot, can we go for a ride in your jet?” You tried to get the cheesy line out seriously, but couldn’t help but let a little snort escape as he turned around, face smug and a suggestive reply already leaving his mouth before his eyes landed on you.

“What the fuck?” His eyes widened as he took you in, looking you up and down.

“Surprise!” You threw up some jazz hands as you grinned at him.

He engulfed you in a hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly and lifting you from the ground as he swung you around. You laughed, clinging on to him. By now, his friends had noticed the two of you, but you paid them no mind as Jake set you back on solid ground.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” He said, pulling you to the side.

“That’s kinda the point of a surprise, Tex,” you teased. You couldn’t stop smiling, and he couldn’t either.

“You look good. It’s been, what, a year since we saw each other?”

“Too long,” you replied. Now it was your turn to look him up and down. He definitely looked good.

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

You scoffed, playfully pushing his chest. “Oh, you know whose it is. I’m not the one leaving the country on top-secret missions at the drop of a hat.”

“It makes me mysterious. Ladies love the mystery.”

“Do they?” You laughed, leaning slightly into him. God, you had missed him. Hearing his laugh through the phone could not compare to hearing it right in front of you.

“They do. You should know. You’re madly in love with me.”

You rolled your eyes, your heart rate spiking the tiniest bit at the thought of being found out– but you knew he was teasing. He always teased like this.

“If anything, you’re the one madly in love with me. All the navy groupies in this bar and you’re over here talking to me. Gotta mean somethin’.”

His smile was blinding as he wrapped and arm around your shoulders, pulling you sideways into his chest.

“You’re my favorite navy groupie.”

“I’ll let that comment slide because I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face.”

He laughed as he steered you back towards the pool table. His friends had all been watching the two of you, but as you approached they tried– and failed– to act as if they hadn’t.

“And who’s this?” A man piped up as he looked you up and down from across the pool table.

“This, everyone, is the biggest pain in my ass that’s been there since kindergarten.”

You raised a hand in a wave, rolling your eyes at Jake’s words. “What he means is that I’m the better half of the duo.”

The only woman of the group looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Her mouth was agape as she studied you and Jake.

“We all thought Hangman was making you up!”

“You thought Hangman was making her up,” a man with a mustache and aviators replied smugly, leaning in closer to the woman. “You owe me $20, Phoenix.”

Phoenix grumbled to herself as she begrudgingly took out her wallet and passed a $20 to the man. He tipped an imaginary hat at her and laughed. She punched him in the arm.

“I am definitely not made up, and I am definitely ready to embarrass Jake. Who wants to know what?” You smiled slyly as the group erupted into chaos; Jake’s shouts for them to ignore you going unheard as the group pulled you in.

—

Jake finally pulled you away from the others hours later, claiming he’d been embarrassed enough for one night and that he had a reputation to uphold.

You had made sure to get every one of his friend’s numbers before leaving, just incase you felt like embarrassing him some more.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence as you made your way to his truck. You had taken a taxi from your hotel, so it worked out.

He opened the passenger door for you and you rolled your eyes as you hopped into the vehicle. He slid into the driver’s seat a second later, but made no move to start the car.

“You okay, Tex?” You asked, worried. He was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Just thinking about all the ways I can get you back for tonight,” he told you, his gaze containing a hint of mischief.

“Can it wait until I’m back in Texas?” You pleaded, to which he shook his head.

“Nope, absolutely not.”

You groaned and he grinned.

“You’re evil,” you told him.

“I’ve been called worse.” He shrugged.

You both fell silent for a minute.

“I didn’t think you were gonna make it back this time. Your mom was telling me what little she knew, but it wasn’t a lot, and I was worried.” You looked down at your hands in your lap as you spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me anything? All I knew was that you were overseas.”

“I was trying to get you to not worry,” he chuckled.

“I always worry about you, idiot. You’re reckless and headstrong. You’re always finding trouble.”

He didn’t respond for a beat. Then:

“Would it make you stop worrying to hear that I’m coming home for a bit?”

“You’re full of shit,” you instantly replied. You hadn’t known him to ever take time off from his job. He loved being a pilot; he loved the navy, and he was incredibly dedicated to his work. It was one of the things you admired about him, but also secretly wished were different about him.

“I’m serious. I don’t know how long, at least a month– but I’m coming home. It’s been too long.”

You sat in silence, multiple emotions washing over you all at once. You knew something serious had to have happened for Jake to be taking a step back, and you were scared as to what that was. As far as you knew, none of his fellow aviators had died, but what if he or they had come close to it?

He knew the risk of getting up in the air, they all did. It was part of the job. But you had never seen him so hesitant to go back to work, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

You took a deep breath and nodded. You could unpack this baggage later– if he’d ever let his walls down and talk to you about it. Now, you were just glad to have him back.

“You still look worried,” he teased.

“Shut up.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“Oh, I’m cute?” You grinned against your will.

“The cutest,” he replied.

“You say that to all the girls.”

“No,” he said. “Just you.”

Silence filled the air once more. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to figure out his angle. Jake always teased– it was his nature. He was the annoying guy best friend who said things to try and get you to blush. Then he’d make fun of you for blushing.

“I haven’t missed your teasing, Tex,” you finally said.

“I do love to tease you,” he said, and you rolled your eyes. “But I’m not right now.”

“Did you hit your head or something?”

“What? No.”

“I think you hit your head. You never compliment me–”

He interrupted. “I compliment you all the time–”

“Teasing and joking doesn’t count.”

He fell silent, having been defeated. Then he muttered a quiet:

“I do think you’re cute.”

“Are we in grade school? Someone pinch me, I must be dreaming. Don’t actually pinch me, dickwad.” You warned before he could even raise his hand. He laughed.

“Can you take this seriously?”

“Oh, how the tables have turned. How does it feel, Tex? Annoying, huh?” You leaned slightly over the center console, poking him in the arm. “Now you know how it feels.”

“I don’t act like this,” he shot back.

“Yes you do. If only you could see yourself–”

“Okay, I get it,” he huffed exasperatedly.

“Oh, do you? I don’t think you do–”

You were cut off as he leaned over the center console, crashing his lips onto yours. You were startled, eyes wide as you quickly pushed him off. He looked confused, maybe even a little hurt, but he backed off instantly.

“What the hell was that?”

He shrugged. You mocked his shrug, throwing up your hands. He mimicked your movements, throwing his hands up as well.

You both looked at each other for a few tense seconds before leaning back in, kissing with fervor. Never in a million years did you think you’d be kissing Jake Seresin, yet here you were. And he initiated it.

You’d have to unpack that later.

You pulled back from him again, both of you catching your breaths. You turned away from him, shifting in your seat to face the windshield. You felt his eyes boring holes into the side of your head.

“Are you angry?” He asked.

“What? No. Why would I be angry?” You replied, turning back to face him.

“Okay, you’re being confusing. First you’re pulling away then you’re kissing me back then you’re turning away–”

“I’m waiting for you to get the message and drive so we don’t make-out in the parking lot of this bar, where all of your colleagues are currently at.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding as he finally turned the keys in the ignition.

Both of you sat in silence as he drove out of the parking lot. It wasn’t until you were almost at his apartment that you spoke again.

“Do I get a badge for kissing you? One that says: ‘I made-out with Jake Seresin and all I got was this stupid badge’?” You looked over at him with a straight face. He rolled his eyes.

“I don’t even know why I missed you,” he sighed as he pulled into a parking spot, putting the car in park and turning it off.

“Just shut up and kiss me again,” you told him as you slipped out of the car, meeting him at on the driver’s side.

“If you’ll be quiet, then gladly.”

You rolled your eyes, but you weren’t annoyed. Not in the slightest.

#glen powell #hangman fanfiction #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x y/n #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #top gun #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #fluff #best friends #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x you #hangman top gun #hangman fluff

842 notes · View notes

anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount · 9 months

Text

Uh, Guys?

My Masterlist

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: There Was Only One Bed, no smut (i know, rare for me these days), idiots in love. bi!reader, bc both bucky and natasha are hot and i’m so fucking gay. implied bi!natasha bc she also likes bucky. mentions of guns, shooting, blood, and medical supplies. nervous!reader. best friends to lovers x2. it’s just pretty fluffy

Word Count: 2417

Summary: You get put on a mission with both the infamous Winter Soldier and Black Widow to take down a Hydra base. You get shot and the extraction plan goes haywire but Tony knows a safe house. The only issue? There’s only one bed and you have a massive crush on both assassins.

“Okay, HYDRA missions are officially the worst.” You said into your comms, running through the halls, away from gunfire, towards the computer terminal. You threw the door closed behind you and quickly looked around for any agents or doors that could be used to attack you. Seeing that you were leaning against the only door, you grabbed a chair and shoved it under the doorknob.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Natasha asked through the comms.

You nodded before remembering she couldn’t see you. “Ah, yea-um, maybe.” You said, plugging the USB in. “I’m in the room with the computer, but I’m pretty sure I got shot.”

“I’m on my way to you, Y/N.” Bucky said, jogging towards where he knew the terminal was.

“Don’t bother, I shoved a chair under the door so nobody can get in and I’m not moving it just for you to carry me out of here. I’m fine, I’m still standing, and- oh, okay, I’m bleeding more than I thought, but I’m fine.” You replied, downloading all of the files on the computer for Tony and FRIDAY to sort through later.

Bucky sighed audibly through the door, “Really, N/N? Let me in please, just so you don’t accidentally bleed out alone?”

You checked the files to make sure they were downloading properly and moved the chair enough so you could open the door to make sure Bucky wasn’t being impersonated by a HYDRA agent. “What’s the password?” You asked, knowing that everyone on the team had a secret password with the other in case of something like this.

Bucky chuckled, rolling his eyes and leaning in the doorway slightly. “Monopoly.” You sighed dramatically and moved the chair out of the way, letting Bucky in. “You didn’t believe it was truly me?” He asked, dramatically offended.

“Buck, with the way technology is these days, they could probably clone you. Hell, the clone could know the code word and you’re not actually here with me, it’s an agent that’s gonna kill me.” You sat back down, continuously downloading their files and deleting them off the computer once you had them.

“Well, doll, you know that’s not it.” He said, leaning in the doorway to be able to watch you and the hallway.

You chuckled, watching the last of the files download. “Yeah, I know, but it could be.”

Bucky watched drops of blood continuously drip onto the floor. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’re bleeding a lot.”

“I’m fine, Buck. This is not the first time I’ve been shot. It’s not important.” You said, pulling the USB out and turning to him.

“Where is it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My bicep is going to be fine.” You replied calmly, walking out of the room and jogging back towards where the three of you landed after parachuting out of the quinjet.

“Did you just try to convince me that your arm wasn’t important?!” Bucky shouted after you, jogging to catch up, the both of you running out of the building and to Natasha.

She raised an eyebrow at you and Bucky, motioning around to the empty clearing. “First of all, your arm is extremely important. Secondly, apparently, they booked more missions than extractions, so we have no way of getting home for the immediate future. Third, Tony has a safe house about 3 miles northeast of here, and he sent me the coordinates. Apparently we’re stuck together until at least morning.”

Bucky nodded at Natasha’s words and started walking northeast, you and Natasha following behind. You quickly fell into a rhythm of just following their footsteps as you got lost in your own head. It wasn’t that you were scared of Natasha or Bucky, not at all. You and Nat had been best friends for years, and Bucky was one of the only other people you would go to when you were feeling out of it. Your current issue was that you had feelings for them both, which had ruined your last relationship, since your ex-girlfriend figured out that she was not your priority. Cradling your arm to your chest, Natasha and Bucky finally realized you weren’t contributing to the conversation and turned to look at you.

“N/N?” Bucky asked softly, snapping you out of your trance. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You said, sighing. “This just hurts a little more than I thought. How much further do you think it is?”

Nat smiled, laughing at you a little. “Darling, it’s been 10 minutes. We have a while to go.”

“It’s not still bleeding, is it?” Bucky asked again.

“No, the bullet lodged in my shoulder, so it’s not bleeding. Let’s just go, please? I’d really like to sit down.” You replied, walking past them in the direction you had all started in.

Natasha and Bucky gave each other a look before Bucky jogged over to you, picked you up bridal style, and kept jogging. Nat was jogging after the two of you, figuring that Bucky would want to get you to the safe house, stitched up and bulletless as soon as possible before your injury got any worse.

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

Twenty minutes of light jogging and your complaining that you could walk perfectly fine and Bucky didn’t need to carry you anywhere passed the time quickly, and before you knew it, the three of you were standing on the porch of the safe house. Natasha opened the door and allowed Bucky to take you inside.

“Uh, guys? I may be hallucinating from blood loss, but there’s only one bed.” You said, tapping Bucky on the shoulder.

Natasha and Bucky shared a look, Bucky setting you down on the bed. “Tony did this on purpose.” She said, sitting next to you. “You know we’re gonna have to take your tac suit off to dress the wound, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” You said, wincing.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, cradling your arm as he slid it out of your sleeve.

“I’m just in a bit of pain, and I’m not wearing a shirt underneath this.” Bucky’s eyes widened. “It’s comfier without the shirt and the fabric crinkles weirdly, but I’m wearing a bra.” You reassured him. “You aren’t gonna see everything, Buck.”

“I’ll still feel better if Nat does it.” He said, shifting his weight between his feet.

Nat glanced between the two of you. “I can’t do that. I can’t stitch wounds, Buck. It has to be you, especially because that’s Y/N’s dominant arm.”

“Yeah, I can’t pull the bullet out and stitch my own wound shut this time, unfortunately.” You said, shrugging with your unwounded arm. “But if it would make you feel better, Nat can help me out of my suit. I’m wearing a pair of shorts and I’m sure that there’s an extra shirt around here somewhere that I can wear.”

“I can absolutely help you out of your suit, honey.” Nat said, reaching for the zipper.

Bucky averted his eyes, blushing, as Nat helped you out of the mission-necessary tactical suit. “I’m gonna go find the medical kit I know Tony must have in here, shout when you’re ready for me.”

“Okay, Buck. Sure.” You said softly, wincing as your shot arm came out of the sleeve.

“Don’t mind his nervousness.” Nat said, moving towards the other shoulder. “He hasn’t really been with anyone since waking up from HYDRA and getting the trigger words taken out of his head. And I know he likes you, so that doesn’t probably make things better.”

Your eyes widened. “Bucky likes me?”

Natasha nodded quickly, “He’s not the only one. Do you have feelings for anyone?”

“I- um, yes? I just don’t want to say anything.” You said, averting your eyes from where Natasha was sliding your tac suit down your body.

“Why’s that?” She asked.

“I have feelings for more than one person. And I’m friends with them both and they’re friends.” You blurted out, feeling her hands skim over the band of your bra.

She nodded in response, slipping a finger in the band. “This is cute. Where’d you get it?”

“Ardene, you’d like it. I get a lot of stuff from there.” You breathed a sigh of relief that she was going to let this topic slide.

“Do I know either of them?” She asked, sliding your suit down further.

You nodded. “Both of them. Quite close, actually.”

“Am I?” You shivered slightly as you felt her breath ghost over your stomach. “You know it’s okay to talk about feelings, honey.” You hummed in agreement, mulling over in your head whether or not to tell her. “Buck or I won’t judge you.” Nat pulled your suit off and ran her hands up and down your calves a few times in a soothing motion.

Bucky popped his head back into the room. “What aren’t we judging?”

“Y/N has a crush on two people she’s friends with, they’re friends, and I’m apparently quite close to both of them.” Nat explained, keeping eye contact with you and slightly raising one eyebrow to make sure she got the facts right. You nodded once, sharply, fighting the urge to crawl under the covers and curl in on yourself.

“Oh, baby doll.” Bucky said, coming to sit next to you on the bed. “You know you can tell us anything.” He wrapped an arm around you and you burrowed your face into his chest. “Oh shit, this is something you’re really nervous about, isn’t it, doll?”

You nodded, knowing now you were going to have to tell both of them the truth. “I like you.” You said softly, knowing Bucky’s super-soldier hearing would pick it up.

“You like me, baby doll?” He asked, rubbing your back as Nat came to sit on your other side. You nodded again, attempting to burrow further into his chest. “Hey, that’s okay, sweet pea. I like you too.”

“Nat told me that.” You said softly, feeling the glare from your best friend burn into your back.

“Who’s the other one, N/N?” She asked sharply.

“You.” You said into Bucky’s chest, knowing he pointed at Nat when he heard you say it.

“Me?” Nat asked, surprised.

You nodded, pulling your head out of Bucky’s chest, but not willing to meet either of their eyes. “Of course it’s you guys. It’s always been the two of you there for me.” You paused, letting them mull over what you just said. “It’s why Meg and I split.”

Bucky turned you to face him so he could start pulling the bullet out of your shoulder. “How so, baby doll?” Nat rested her chin on your other shoulder, holding out a hand for you to squeeze.

“Well, she didn’t like the fact that I was constantly on missions, which is literally my job, so that didn’t help matters. But the other thing is that she said I looked at you guys differently than her, treated the two of you better.” You said, looking down and squeezing Nat’s hand.

Nat rubbed your back, knowing that if you hadn’t told the two of them this, you hadn’t told anyone. “She broke up with you because she could tell you liked us?”

You nodded. “She said that if she wasn’t my first priority then we weren’t meant to be. And work is always my priority.”

“But then it’s us?” Bucky asked softly, stopping the bleeding of the removal from the bullet before he stitched you shut again.

“Yeah.” You said softly. “She didn’t like that much.”

Bucky stitched you up, and as he had changed out of his suit while finding the medical kit, pulled his shirt off for you to wear. “Here, sweetheart. You’re all stitched up.”

“Oh, thank you, Buck.” You said, putting on his shirt, the nickname and his scent lighting your insides on fire. You sighed softly, curling up under the covers and rolling away from both of them, not knowing what to say to your two closest friends now that you had spilled your heart to them and they didn’t say anything.

Nat knelt next to you on the bed, gently placing a hand on your busted shoulder. “N/N, please don’t pout. Buck and I have talked, because we both like each other, and you. We want to try to make this work.”

Bucky knelt on the floor, cupping your face in his hands. “We don’t have to move quickly, baby doll, we just wanna be with you, if that’s something you’d be okay with.”

“Yeah.” You said softly. “I’d be okay with that. But how does something like this even work?”

“Baby, this is like any relationship, we’ll figure it out as we go. Communication and comprehension is key. And we’re pretty good at that.” Nat said, gently rolling you onto your back. “So why don’t we just start with cuddles? And we can go from there later.”

You nodded, moving over to the middle of the bed so they could both crawl in with you. “Is this okay? Or did you guys want to be closer to each other?”

“This is perfect, baby doll.” Bucky said, reaching across you to throw his arm over both you and Nat.

“Yeah, perfect.” Nat said, snuggling further into your side.

“Yeah, this is everything I’ve ever wanted.” You said, leaning your head against Nat’s while curling further into Bucky.

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

“Quick take a picture!” You heard somebody exclaim to wake you up. You were still very disoriented, having just woken up and you hadn’t even blinked your eyes open when light flashed behind them.

“What the fuck is that?” Nat mumbled into your shoulder, eyes closed still.

“I dunno.” You mumbled, wrapping an extra arm around her. “Don’ really care either.”

Bucky pulled you both closer. “It’s Sam and Steve here to pick us up.”

“But ‘m comfy ‘n sleepy.” You mumbled into Nat’s hair.

“I know you are, baby doll.” He said, beginning to untangle himself from the cuddle pile the three of you were in. “How about we all go for a nap back at the compound after we let your bullet wound actually get checked out?” Once untangled, Bucky picked you up in one arm and Nat in the other to carry you back onto the quinjet.

You nuzzled into his shoulder. “That sounds good.”

“So how did this all happen, punk?” Steve asked, taking you carefully from Bucky so neither you or Nat were dropped.

Bucky glanced between you and Nat fondly. “We’re all idiots.”

Taglist: @chrisevansdaughter, @buckybarnesandmarvel, @sarahrogersevans, @nana1000night

Let me know if you want to be added or removed!

Yall I am so sorry that it’s been so long since I posted, but this is finished now and I hope you like it. I hope to get a lot more fics out by the end of August bc then I’ll be moving and starting at a new school and it’s gonna be a whole thing.

75 notes · View notes

waywardxrhea · 2 months

Text

No Romeo - a Marvel one shot

pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader and best friend!Natasha x fem!reader (platonic but with accidental fruity implications at the end whoops) no use of y/n

(disclaimer: at one point in this story it is mentioned that perhaps Reader reminds Steve of Peggy. this can be interpreted as looks, intelligence, empowerment, among many other things that you may attribute to yourself. know that i do not intend this to be used to restrict the audience of readers, but for the plot of this little story it has to be there! take it as you will!)

word count: 1.9k

"get up let's go, let's get off the floor. put on a dress and walk out the door. leave him behind, I know that you're better off..." - no romeo by dylan

when your date with Steve doesn't go as planned, Natasha is there to pick up the slack.

content: 18+ minors DNI! smut (mutual stripping, nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex with mentions of birth control, no orgasm), angst, language (fucking used once), hurt comfort, drinking.

(not my gif)

You had been dating Captain Steve Rogers for a few months now and things had been going super well. You went on dates every week when the two of you weren’t busy on missions for SHIELD, he had met your best friend from outside of work, and he treated you like a lady. He was so unlike anyone else you had ever dated, and not just because he was a super soldier. He was what they called a good old fashioned lover boy who opened doors, pulled out chairs, brought you bouquets of your favorite flowers, the works, for every date you had been on.

Your first date all that time ago was set up by one of your colleagues and work best friends Natasha Romanoff who thought both you and Steve needed to get out into the dating world and had the idea that the two of you would make a great pair. You knew she had been trying to get him to go for other girls like the pretty blonde from accounting or the spunky chick from analytics, and you heard the rumors of how great they were but he still didn’t go for them. So needless to say, you were surprised when Nat told you he nearly immediately said yes when she offered you up as a potential date. Not that you were complaining or anything.

So that led you to tonight on your usual dinner date with Steve. After dinner was finished, Steve took you back to his apartment where the plan was to start watching the Star Wars movies to get some things on his checklist in his little notebook done, but things didn’t exactly go to plan. Honestly they never did once you and Steve got behind closed doors because the second the door shut behind you, his strong body pinned you to it as your lips crashed onto one another’s.

Steve’s hands wandered down to your hips and he began gently massaging them as one of your own locked in his hair and the other ran feather-light over his abs. “You look so beautiful tonight,” he whispered as he turned his attention to your neck, starting with gentle kisses before starting to leave small love bites on your delicate skin.

“Oh this old thing?” you asked with a breathy laugh, referencing your low cut white blouse and flowing red skirt you had gotten at your favorite boutique years ago.

“It’s been driving me crazy all night,” he told you as he moved his assault to your collar bones as he effortlessly lifted you into his arms.

A smirk slipped onto your lips as you said in your most seductive voice, “Well if it’s making you so crazy why don’t you take it off of me… Captain?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice, agent,” he replied with a chuckle.

So as the two of you made your way to his bedroom one article of clothing came off at a time, first your blouse followed by his shirt. As he gently sat you on the edge of the bed, his hands worked quickly to get your bra off and he spent a few torturous minutes messing with your sensitive breasts, leaving yet more love bites and teasing your nipples which left you with a pool of wet heat in between your thighs. Steve slipped your panties off before you spread your legs wider for him, working on getting his pants off over the tent that had formed within them. You ended up getting both his underwear and pants off in one go and he chuckled as he told you between kisses, “Now I think you’re a bit overdressed, sweetheart.”

“Oh am I now?” you asked with a light laugh before you let your skirt fall to the ground. “Better?” you asked as you kicked the garment to the pile of clothes that now littered the floor.

“Much,” he replied as he guided you to lay on the bed. He hovered over you and kissed your lips passionately a few more times before asking like he always did, “You take your pill this morning?”

“Of course,” you replied. You nipped his earlobe before teasing, “I know you like the feel without a condom…”

“God, because you’re just so perfect,” he groaned as his hips bucked up, his swollen tip teasing your entrance already. “You’re so wet…you ready for me?” he asked as he reached down between the two of you to run himself through your soaked and sensitive folds.

“Always ready for you, Captain,” you told him with a wink. The calling of his rank was enough to spur him to thrust in without much of a warning, pushing in quickly at first before he slowed down, pushing his thick length into you impossibly deep, something you never got used to no matter how many times you had slept with him. “Oh god, Steve!” you whimpered as your nails dug into the strong muscles lining his back.

“You feel so good,” he grunted as he bottomed out, giving you a few moments to adjust to his size.

“You just know how to treat me right,” you replied before he began moving his hips, dragging his hot length in and out of you at the delicious speed that had you moaning loudly within moments. You were sure you’d be getting another noise complaint from the little old lady next door.

After a few minutes of that position, Steve shifted and hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, which in turn made you nearly scream as you called out his name, your nails once again digging into his back as the pleasure became nearly unbearable. You could feel yourself starting to gently squeeze Steve’s cock, causing him to throw his face into the crook of your neck as his breathing the thrusts became erratic. He let out a low moan before whispering something that made your blood run cold. “Peggy, God that feels so good…”

“I- Steve, Steve stop,” you stuttered out upon hearing what he whispered, your orgasm retreating deep into your body as all pleasure seemed to run away with it. “P-please get off,” you told him as you began shifting out of the now awkward position he had you in.

“Everything okay?” he asked dumbly, his eyebrows furrowing as he pulled out of you gently.

You tried to hide the building emotion in your voice as you told him, “You answer that next time you’re fucking someone and they call out someone else’s name.”

“I- I didn’t realize,” Steve said quietly as he closed his eyes and sighed. You quickly began gathering your clothes off the floor and throwing them on as he called out your name, saying, “Oh come on, it was a mistake I didn’t mean it! Come back please! I’ll make it up to you!”

“No,” you told him, pulling away from his grasp before heading to the bedroom door to grab your blouse. You kept your back turned to him as you pulled it on and said, “You’re still in love with her, I get it. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough…” Before he could respond you closed the door behind you and grabbed your purse, making a quick exit as the tears began running down your face.

You grabbed a cab back to your apartment, earning sympathetic glances from the cabbie the whole ride there. When you arrived and paid him, he told you gently, “I hope your night gets better.”

“Oh, t-thanks,” you mumbled, returning to your purse for a few more bills to tip the kind man with. “Have a good night.”

When you got up to your apartment was when your anxiety at the whole situation got the better of you and you began to spiral. Everything touching you felt like too much, so you quickly got changed in your bedroom, ridding yourself of the sticky feeling underwear and the outfit that you now realized looked just like one you saw on Peggy in a picture Steve had in his apartment. “Stupid…” you whispered to yourself, your voice breaking as you glared at your now former favorite ensemble.

Changing into your softest pjs you tried to calm yourself down and stop your mind from racing, sitting down on the cool hardwood floor wrapped in your favorite blanket. You closed your eyes for a few minutes, trying to not let your mind wander away from your immediate surroundings. As the feel of the cool wood brought you back down to reality, you got lost in your own little world of what you could hear, feel, and smell in your apartment. The distant sounds of the city were more soothing than ever, but all of that was interrupted by the sudden turning of the doorknob to your apartment.

Your eyes snapped open and you instinctively reached for the hidden gun under your coffee table only to see Natasha standing in your doorframe. “Oh, Nat, hey,” you said quietly, your hand retreating from the firearm. “I thought I locked the door, sorry.”

“Spare key remember?” Nat asked as she held the key in question up. She smirked slightly before saying, “Not that I need it or anything.”

“Right,” you told her with a forced laugh.

Nat closed the door behind her and studied you for a few moments before asking quietly, “What happened with Romeo?”

“He’s no Romeo…” you whispered, tears making their appearance once more in response to the question. When Nat didn’t say anything in response for a few moments, you continued, telling her, “Things were going great at first. Dinner went well, we headed back to his place, started having sex, but then…then he called out Peggy’s name… I just… I had to get outta there…”

“Oh, radnaya…” Nat whispered as she sat down on the couch nearby and leaned you back into her lap, massaging your shoulders. “I’m sorry that happened…” she mumbled, something like guilt laced in her words.

“Is…is that the only reason he wanted me? Because I reminded him of her? Of what he actually wants?” you asked, the venom in your voice earlier replaced by an overwhelming sadness. You lowered your head as your arms tightened around your legs, adding quietly, “I thought for once someone wanted me for me…”

“Get up,” Nat said suddenly, a sureness in her tone as she untangled her legs from you and stood up.

“What?” you asked, looking up at her with your eyebrows furrowed.

“Get up, let’s go, let’s get off the floor. Put on a dress and walk out the door. Leave him behind I know that you’re better off,” she told you as she held her hand out for you to grab.

“But Nat-“ you tried, not in the mood to go out again.

“No buts. You’re going to put on that little black number, I’m gonna help you cover those hickeys, and you’re going to go clubbing with me and Maria.” She smirked as she added, “That’s an order.”

“Yes ma’am,” you told her, a quiet and genuine laugh finally slipping past your lips as you took her hand and got up off the floor.

When you met up with Maria, the night felt renewed and you found yourself letting go of your anger and sadness as you got lost in more than a couple frozen margaritas. The three of you danced together into the late hours of the night, making sure to fend off incoming men with playful kisses to each others’ shoulders and cheeks. The three of you giggled every time it happened and by the time the night was over you had found yourself the happiest you had been in a long time, knowing that no matter what happened at least you had these two by your side.

a/n: honestly it was kinda hard for my Steve Rogers loving ass to write this, but when the urge to write a one shot based off of one of my favorite songs at the moment hit, i had to scratch the itch lol

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #pwp #angst #natasha romanoff #best friend natasha

15 notes · View notes

p-taryn-dactyl · 1 year

Text

retrouvailles

a/n: hi everyone! ik I've been a bit absent writing wise but I saw this word and I just had to write something with it. I hope you enjoy!

retrouvailles: the untranslatable French word "retrouvailles" means the joy you feel after seeing someone you haven't seen in a long time

word count: 613

warning(s): none; well reader dies but it’s not angsty

Your whole life you had been afraid of death. Afraid of what awaited you when you closed your eyes for the final time. But now, as you lie in bed, breaths shallow as your eyesight hazes, you’ve never felt such peace. You gave one last smile towards the tear-stained faces of your friends and family before slipping into oblivion.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gasping, you sat up. You were sitting in an inch of water, your lightweight dress flowing around you. Lifting your hands to your face, feeling your skin, you smiled at your younger form. While your wrinkles and gray hair were nothing to be ashamed of, you found comfort in eternally being what you thought as your prime. Looking around, you stood up. A vast expansion of nothingness, an orange tinted horizon, and soft, slight waves filled your vision. You started to walk, enjoying the quiet yet hoping to run into something, someone. Soon, you saw a ripple on the horizon, folding and solidifying into a door. Without hesitation, you grasped the handle, opening the door. Bright white flooded your eyes and then you were standing on a crowded street. Blinking, you noticed people dressed in all different eras of clothing, buildings from empires long forgotten mixed with the modern, languages long dead filling your ears, translating in your mind. Looking down, you became aware of your wardrobe change. Gone was the white, flowing dress you had awoken in. You now wore your favorite outfit, your hair styled comfortably, and your most loved shoes adorning your feet. Sighing contently, you started strolling down the street, nodding at a 20s gangster, a woman dressed in a Victorian dress, and someone who appeared to be Joan of Arc. You walked until you felt the urge to stop and turn your head. You gasped, tears welling in your eyes as you noticed who you were looking at.

Your sister and your best friend sat at an outside cafe table, laughing loudly as they sipped on their drinks. You noticed an empty seat with a drink in front of it. A drink that looked suspiciously like your favorite. Tony looked over at you, raising his drink in greeting. Natasha smiled and waved, making your heart clench in joy as your eyes memorized the smiles on their faces, a sight you had not seen in decades. You made your way over, biting your lip to hold back the happy tears welling in your eyes. Tony stood up, pulling the empty seat out for you.

“Hey, kid-”

You interrupted him, throwing your arms out and capturing your best friend into a giant hug. You sighed when his arms wrapped around you. This was one of the things you had missed most about Tony, the way he hugged you like it was his only mission in life. Breaking free of the hug, you turned to Nat, who stood and pulled you into another hug. While this one was quicker than Tony’s, you felt her love seep into you. Nat pressed a kiss into your temple before sitting back down. You and Tony did the same and you grabbed your drink, tears now running down your face. Tony held one of your hands in his and nodded.

“You lived a fulfilling life and now it’s time for rest.”

You squeezed his hand, grasping Nat’s hand in your free one.

“I missed you both so much and-”

“We were always there with you,” Natasha interrupted, “We never left.”

You nodded, smiling. If dying meant reuniting with Tony and Nat, you questioned why you were ever afraid. Tony once more stood up, grabbing his drink.

“Come on, the others are excited to see you.”

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark x platonic!reader #best friend!reader #sister!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x sister!reader

70 notes · View notes

sarahsmi13s · 1 year

Text

Didn’t Like Me That Much

(not my gif)

pairing: ex!bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x reader

characters: bradley bradshaw, reader, billy avalone (fritz), natasha trace, the squad

warnings: angst, heartbreak, loss of feelings, unrequited love, forgiveness, i believe that’s all

word count: ~2.2k

a/n: this is inspired by a song and more specifcally this tiktok

also, most of this will be in a memory

post 2/3?

quick summary: you had fallen in love with bradley - who just didn’t like you that much

You looked in the mirror, adjusting your outfit for going to the beach with your boyfriend.

“Honey, are you sure you’re okay with going? He’s gonna be there,” Fritz asked, wiping down his sunglasses on his shirt. You nodded, “I’ll be okay, Billy. I promise.” He slipped his sunglasses on, “Okay, but if you get even the slightest bit uncomfortable, tell me and we’ll leave.” “Okay.”

Truth was, you would be just fine. You had come to terms with your break up with Bradley Bradshaw a long time ago. You no longer held ill feelings towards the man and were actually thankful for the breakup; it led you to the man in front of you that loved you with everything he had and didn’t have.

You gave Fritz a big smile and grabbed his hand, “Come on, I know you hate being late.”

********

As Billy drove from your place to the Hard Deck, you couldn’t help but to think about your relationship with Bradley.

You hadn’t really spoken sense the break up, getting the occasional update from Natasha on how he was.

But now you were about to see him and you had no idea what to say.

****

You were Natasha's roommate for the longest time. You’ve been friends with her ever since middle school and you stayed best friends as you got older.

That’s how you met Bradley.

Phoenix had come home one holiday season with a stray attached to her hip.

“Y/N, this is Rooster, he’s the one I’ve been telling you about. Rooster, this is my roommate and best friend, Y/N.” He shook your hand, “Nice to meet you, Phoenix has told me a lot about you.” You smiled, “Same here, it’s nice to put a face to the name. Well, face to the call sign.”

He laughed at your little joke and you thought it may have been the prettiest laugh you had ever heard.

****

It hadn’t taken you long to fall for him, it was quite easy actually.

Bradley had done everything right, whether he did it consciously or not. You had fallen in love.

And Bradley thought he had as well. You were great; beautiful, funny, sensitive, and caring. He definitely had some feelings for you, but he incorrectly labeled them.

But he didn’t know. So, he acted on his feelings and asked you on a date – to which of course you said yes.

Things were great for the first few months, but then Bradley realized that he didn’t love you like he originally thought. But he wanted this to work, he really did, and you were so happy, he didn’t want to hurt you. So he kept up his act.

However, he fell into a routine.

And that routine lasted for months before you decided to stop denying it.

“Hey, Bradley, can we talk?” You asked over the phone, biting your nail as you leaned on the kitchen counter. Your heart was racing as you tried not to sound like you had been crying. “Yeah of course. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Rooster had also reached his breaking point with his charade. He needed to come clean and break up with you before it eventually turned into fighting. Maybe you could try again later; you know ‘right person, wrong time’.

When Bradley got to yours and Natasha’s place, he went in and found you on the couch.

You were hugging a pillow and staring blankly at the coffee table.

He cautiously sat down beside you, “Hey, what’s up Sweetheart?” You rested your chin on top of the pillow. “Do you like me?” He blinked for a second, processing your question. “Of course I like you.”

That’s when you looked at him, “But do you love me?”

His throat dried up. Neither of you had said the three words yet, but you had other ways of saying it.

“Where is this coming from?” He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear but you dodged his hand. “Y/N…”

You sniffled, “Are you trying to hurt me? Was this whole relationship just a scheme to get off on making someone fall in love with you?” You didn’t yell the words, barely said them above a whisper – mainly because you were just speaking from a place of pain and insecurity and didn’t really believe them.

But you wanted him to see what his actions, no matter how they were intended, had done to you.

“No. God, no, Y/N. I would never want to hurt you-” “Well you did, Rooster.” This time you practically hissed out the call sign like it burnt your tongue. But you still didn’t raise your voice, and that’s what hit him the hardest.

You started to play with your nails, picking at the skin around them and not looking at the pilot anymore.

“We need to break up.”

Rooster nodded, even though you couldn’t see him. “I think that might be the best for now. But please know I didn’t intend to hurt you…”

You weren’t sure why you expected him to fight and want to stay together. He had checked out a while ago.

You looked up at him, a tear slipping past your eye that he wanted to wipe away. “Then why did you do it?” He opened his mouth, but his words had left him.

There was no reasoning of his actions that would change how you felt or what they did to you. He closed his mouth and frowned, disappointed in himself.

Nodding and tonguing your lip, you played with the throw pillow. “You should go. I don’t want Nat to see us like this.”

Rooster swallowed, but nodded, “Okay.” He slowly stood up, pausing as if he were about to say something. But instead he gently left a lingering kiss on your cheek, his mustache consequently catching the tear that fell. “I’m sorry.”

He walked to the door, opening it and pausing to look at you, “Goodbye, Y/N.” “Goodbye, Bradley.”

Bradley leaned against the door and ran his hand down his face.

He was relieved to not be acting anymore, but he felt horrible for how he hurt you. He pushed off the door and went to his Bronco.

****

When Phoenix came home she found you stirring tea while staring down at the table.

She sat her gym bag down, eyes skeptical as she walked up to you. She sat down across from you, gently lifting your chin. “Hey honey, what’s wrong?”

You sniffled and pulled back from her, “Rooster and I broke up.”

Her jaw dropped. She had thought you both were great together. “What happened? I thought you guys were in love?”

You pushed away from the table, standing up and throwing your arms out, “Well you thought wrong Nat!” She flinched a little, not expecting the outburst. You took a few deep, angry breaths in through your nose as you paced.

But they soon turned into short breaths that then turned into sobs as you slid down the wall and cried into your hands.

Nat was right by your side, “Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry.” She pulled you into her lap and your head fell onto her shoulder, “What did I do wrong?” Her fingers combed through your hair, “Nothing, you did nothing wrong.”

She sighed, “Maybe it was just a ‘right person, wrong time’ situation. Rooster’s never been great at expressing his emotions. Give him time.”

“Give him time…”

*****

You tried but you couldn’t do it.

Then you got a job offer and, despite it moving you states away for your best friend, you took it.

And that’s how you met the aviator that currently held your heart and had shown you just how much he loved you everyday.

**********

“Y/N? Sweetheart, we’re here,” Fritz pulled you out of your memory.

“Hm? Oh, okay,” you reached down to unbuckle your belt, but his hand stopped you. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You smiled and kissed his cheek, “I’m positive.” He smiled and kissed your lips.

You went through the Hard Deck to get to the beach, saying ‘hi’ to Jimmy as you passed the bar and grabbed a drink.

When you got to the beach, Fritz introduced you to everyone.

“Y/N! Oh my gosh! Is that you?” You wiped around at the sound of Phoenix’s voice. “Phoenix!” You ran up to her and embraced her, nearly falling into the sand.

You hadn’t seen her in so long, but when Billy told you she was on with this detachment you were ecstatic to see her.

“I can’t believe you’re here! What are you doing here?” She asked when you pulled away. “I’m here with my boyfriend.” “Boyfriend? Who?”

Fritz wrapped his arms around you, “That would be me, Nix.” “Fritz?! You’re with Fritz Avalone?” You nodded, smiling at him before looking at her, “The one and only.” Billy kissed your cheek before leaving to go set up the bonfire.

Phoenix smiled and squeezed your arm, “You look really happy.” You nodded, looking at where Billy was tossing sand at Harvard. “I am. He makes me so happy. I love him so much.”

Nat couldn’t help but the soaring of her heart. She loved to see you so happy. You’re her best friend and after what happened with Rooster, seeing you so in love, more in love than you had been with Rooster, made her happy for you.

Bradley was happy for you too.

He had made a snack run and when he came back, he saw Fritz tackling you into the sand.

When Phoenix had told him what happened after he left, he felt terrible. He tried to talk to you and reconcile, maybe become friends, but you ignored him. You’d cut him off completely.

And he couldn’t blame you. He’d hurt you; you had every right to not want to talk to him or see him.

He watched from afar, seeing you smile and laugh with Billy. He wanted to wait for you to approach him, let you set the pace.

And after a while you had caught his eye from across the beach as Fritz twirled you. But you didn’t come up to him.

****

After Fritz danced with you in the sand and the sun got close to setting, Billy left to get the fire started.

You went over to the cooler and grabbed two beers.

“Hey, Y/N.” Rooster’s timid voice hit your ears from behind you.

You turned and smiled at him, “Hi, Bradley.” He glanced over to where Fritz was, “So, you and Avalone?” You nodded, smiling over your shoulder and Billy, “Yeah, me and Avalone.”

You met each other’s eyes again and he smiled at you, “You seem happy.” “I’m very happy.” He nodded, “That’s good. I’m glad.” “Thank you.”

It was silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Rooster apologized, breaking the uncomfortable air.

You shook your head, “It’s okay.” “It’s not. You didn’t deserve what I did.” “I know, but I’m not upset. Not anymore. I came to terms with it.”

He was confused. “But I-” “I know, Brad. It took me a while, but I realized something when I was healing.” His eyes lit up with curiosity, but he didn’t ask.

“Phoenix had told me something that day, that maybe we were just a case of ‘right person, wrong time’ but that’s not what you were,” you sat down in a beach chair and he followed suit.

“I had made you out to be this villain after we broke up,” you chuckled sadly. “But you weren’t some evil mastermind, you didn’t try to hurt me on purpose.”

He cut in, “But I did-” You held a hand up, “Let me finish.”

You sighed, “I thought that you wanted to attempt and ruin my life, with the whole act you put up those last few months.” You grabbed his hands, “But, I know now, that it wasn’t deliberate. It wasn’t some big plan or grad scheme. You didn’t target me, you’d never do that. And I know that.” You sighed again, pulling your hands away to wipe them on your legs.

“But I am an idiot,” you chuckled again. “So it’s not your fault that I fell in love with someone who just didn’t like me that much.”

Rooster gave you a sad smile, “I truly am sorry for my actions. But I want to emphasize that my loss of feelings had nothing to do with you. They just-” “Roos, I get it. Things happen, feelings change. Maybe they weren’t there to begin with and it felt like it was too late to go back. But I’m not angry with you anymore.”

“So you forgive me?” You rested a hand on his arm, “I forgave you a long time ago.” You stood up and brought him with you. You gave him a hug.

You pulled back, “So forgive yourself, Rooster.” He nodded and ran a hand over his mouth. You gave him a smile before grabbing the two drinks and going over to Fritz.

“Here’s your drink.” Billy took it and smiled, “Thank you.” He kissed your forehead, “What did you and Bradshaw talk about?”

You smiled and glanced over at where Rooster was talking to Maverick. He looked at you and smiled back, giving you a nod and tipping his drink at you.

You let out a sigh of relief, this weight being lifted off your chest.

“I forgave him.”

********

thank you for reading! <33 i hope this was enjoyable

the artist in the tiktok is incredibly talented and you should definitely listen to her music on spotify!! (if her music is your style)

if you want more of the ‘x reader’s that are just chilling in my docs let me know or if you have any requests for more fics please do so!!

love you guys <33

top gun tags <3: @milesdickpic @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia

thank you guys for being here! i love you *mwah*

#ex!bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw #fritz x reader #billy avalone x reader #billy fritz avalone #best friend!phoenix x reader #natasha phoenix trace #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #top gun fic #top gun angst

108 notes · View notes

jungle-angel · 7 months

Note

36 with Phoenix please

Oh my Lord!!!!!! Honey yes of course!!!!!! I'm not sure how you wanted this done but I hope you're ok with the end result.

Natasha took a deep breath as the baby kicked again. "Alright little man," she said. "You'd better hold out in there, it's at least another week and a half before Daddy's home."

"I come bearing a gift!" you chirped, striding into the room with a paper bag with the logo of Natasha's favorite coffee shop on it.

"Oh my God you didn't!" Natasha gasped.

"Oh yes I did," you chuckled.

Natasha dug into the bag and found her favorite sandwich wrapped in the paper, taking a big bite out of it to fulfill the craving.

"Sheesh," you chuckled. "Did you eat anything at all today?"

"Didn't have a chance," Natasha answered with a mouthful of sandwich. "I've been trying to paint the wall ever since you got here."

Now you really felt bad. You hated whenever Cole had to go away on a mission and leave Natasha in the house. Those nights for the last two weeks had been rough, having to stay up at weird hours to help keep Natasha sane enough until her husband came home.

"Any idea when he's home?"

"Ten days," Natasha answered. "I just got the word yesterday and after that his discharge goes into effect."

You squealed and clapped like a little schoolgirl, excited that at long last Cole would be coming home. Years of nerve wracking, six week long missions, radio silence and fear of the unknown were at long last over. The best part being that Cole would be home in time for the baby's birth.

"Let's finish up and get the room painted," you said. "Otherwise we're gonna be at it for a while."

Natasha finished her sandwich and the two of you set to work right away, painting and stenciling the walls with white and pale sky blue. Assembling the furniture hadn't been easy either, the instructions easy enough to read, but falling out of their holes every so often or a screw coming loose. But as soon as you had folded all the little blankies, clothes and other things the baby would need, you could both tell that your hard work had paid off immensely. Right before you was the finished end result, the nursery all full of the characters from Toy Story whether it was on the blankets or in the form of the soft, cuddly little toys in the corners of the crib.

"You think Cole's gonna love it?" you asked.

"I'd say so," Natasha answered, gently rubbing her bump. "Whaddaya say we keep it a surprise until he gets back?"

"Sounds like a plan," you chirped.

A week and a half later, Cole Rossington returns from his Navy SEAL mission, happy to be reunited with Natasha. His jaw drops halfway to the ground when he sees the nursery you two finished, so grateful to have a friend like you to look after Natasha. Not even two weeks later, you're at The Hard Deck with the others when you get a text message right as it's getting dark, a picture of Cole, Natasha and their precious little boy, Gabe who had just arrived, making you the proudest auntie in the entire Dagger Squad.

#top gun maverick #natasha phoenix trace #natasha phoenix trace x oc #phoenix x oc #natasha trace x best friend!reader #dagger squad

15 notes · View notes

beaniebeensbaby201 · 6 months

Text

A MILLION LITTLE THINGS

PETE "MAVERICK" MITCHELL LOVE STORY x JAKE SERESIN

Summary: Cheryl "Avalanche" Kazansky was called back to Top Gun. She was the best of the best. She won first place in her graduation class just like her father who was one of the best fighter Pilots in his generation. The only problem was, Maverick Mitchell. A man that she held a strong hatred for and broke her heart into pieces. The other problem, he's her instructor for the mission.

Pairings: Maverick x fem reader, Bradley Bradshaw x best friend reader, Natasha x best friend reader, Jake Seresin x girlfriend reader, Iceman x daughter reader. Bradley and Jake are best friends in this one.

Nicknames: Scooter, or Cherry or Cher

Callsign: Avalanche

Warning(s): angst, cursing, violence, 10 year age gap, implied smut, fighting.

"You ready to get your asswooped Bagman?" Scooter said, as her and Jake had a stare off.

Both of them had a smirk on their lips. Jake had his chin resting on the pool stick in front of him as Scooter was in position to get the ball in the hole.

He scoffed, "Please." Scooter raised her eyebrows at him while wiggling her eyebrows at him.

"Oh! Would you look at that, four in one shot!" Scooter exclaimed, her hands in the air as she did a little dance.

"You cheated!" She called out, as the girl continued to shake her booty in front of him.

"Don't be such a sore loser!" Jake rolled his eyes at the girl.

"I'm gonna get a drink to celebrate, thanks for paying for them." Scooter said rushing to Penny before he could say anything.

"Shit." Scooter said under her breath, clearing her throat and faced the bar where the brunette woman stood behind the bar.

"I see you won." Scooter gave Penny a cheeky smile.

"I always win, Pen." She said in a flirty tone.

Penny rolled her eyes at her cockiness.

Scooter tried her best not to glance at the man beside her. She could feel his eyes on her, burning into her soul. Her heart was in her throat, she couldn't look at him. She promised that she would do anything and everything to ignore him. She's been doing that for at least four years so far.

Penny noticed the look in the girl's eyes when she realized how uncomfortable she was. Penny looked over and noticed it was because of Maverick. She knew of their situation, how he broke her heart when she confessed her feelings for the older man, only for him to break it.

They were close, more than he'd liked to admit. He was also falling for her, too fast, but she was too young. She should be with a guy like Rooster, someone her own age. Not someone like him.

Penny knew why he did what he did. He didn't have to tell her. He knew that it was because of her age, or the fact her father was a close friend. He would deny any feelings for the pilot.

"You don't always win." A voice behind her spoke up.

Scooter rolls her eyes at the man behind her. Penny grabbed a few beers from the bar as she took out her card.

"Thanks babe!" Scooter kissed Jake on the cheek and patted him on the chest.

"Babe?" Maverick asked Penny as they walked off.

"They're not together. She hasn't dated anyone in a while." Penny informed. Maverick sighed, looking at the woman with a longing look.

"She's in love with you Mav. She tells me all the time. She'll tell me all about those horrible dates, how they were pigs. Then one day she finally agreed to go out with Jake, she's happy Mav. Jake's a good guy," Maverick looked up at Penny with wide eyes. Penny pursed her lips.

"They've been together for almost a year now." Maverick sighed as he watched the young couple.

"She wasn't going to wait forever Mav." Maverick stayed silent for a moment. She knew he was right.

"Bradshaw!" Scooter exclaimed from across the bar when she noticed a familiar man wearing his signature Hawaiian shirt.

"Scooter, how you been?" Bradshaw wrapped his arms around her in a brotherly hug.

"Ya know, livin" and breathin'." She said, with a grin on her lips.

"You look good." Scooter smiled, kissing him on the cheek.

"How are you and Nat doing?" Bradley's face turned a deep shade of pink, which caused Scooter's grin to turn into a wider one.

"We're getting married." Scooter jumped up and down as she lets out a shriek.

"Omg, I'm gonna kill Nat for not telling me!" Scooter ran off to find the brunette, as Maverick looked over at the scene.

"Natasha!" Scooter shouted, marching towards the female Pilot who was talking to Hangman, Coyote and Fanboy.

"How did you not tell me?" Natasha glared sharply at Bradley who looked like he was scared.

"You weren't supposed to tell anyone yet!" Natasha scolded as she slapped him upside the head.

"I'm sorry, you know I can't keep secrets from her." Natasha sighed.

"What's she talking about?" Jake asked, standing beside Scooter over towering her smaller frame.

"Bradley proposed to me, we were planning on getting married after the mission." Natasha said, a smiling growing her lips, showing her pearly white teeth.

"I'm the maid of honor, right?" Scooter asked, raising her hand like a student would in class.

"Actually, you were gonna be Bradley's best man." Cheryl pouted, a look of disappointment in her eyes.

"Hey!" Jake exclaimed a look of disappointment in his eyes.

"I filled the spot ad Bradshaw's best man since we were two." Cheryl points two fingers showing the age they were when they met.

"Natasha only knows everything about Rooster is because of me." Scooter said pointing to herself as Bradley looked at her.

"Is that how she knew about that time-" Scooter cringed slightly, her teeth clenching when she realized that she said that out loud.

Natasha had an amused look on her face. Her arms crossed over her chest.

"Pff, no. Oh c'mon, it was funny!" Bradley glared at Scooter as she tried to get back in his good graces.

"I'm gonna go get drinks." Scooter goes to leave, Hangman follows them.

Jake took Scooter's hand, lacing them together. Luckily the bell of the bar rang, as everyone cheered. She noticed that it was Maverick and Penny. Jake noticed the look on her face, and stopped.

"You don't have to go over there. I could get us some drinks." Cheryl shook her head, giving Jake a false smile.

"I'm fine, it's just the way he broke my heart is what makes me hate him." She assured him. She didn't want anyone else to be hers, he was the one. Jake wasn't sure if he believed her, as he gave her a wary look.

"I could prove it to you tonight." She said, giving him a cheeky grin.

He had a smirk forming his lips as he looked down at her.

"Oh yea?" He asked coolly.

"Mhm." She said, her fingers playing with his uniform. His hands squeezed her hips as she looked at him with a seductive look. She had a cocky smirk on her lips knowing that she was winning.

"I'll meet you by the darts, get me my usual?" She asked. Jake squeezed her ass in a playful manner causing her to squeal out a laugh.

He gives her a kiss patting her ass softly as she watches him walk off. Her fingers on her lips as she could still feel his lips on hers. Her stomach bubbled inside her as she skipped over towards where Coyote was. Coyote had a teasing smile on his lips as he watched the girl come his way.

"Hangman isn't over here." He said in a playful tone.

"He's getting us drinks." She informed, grabbing three darts out of Coyote's hands.

"I bet you I could get a Bullseye without even looking. With three darts." She challenged him. Jake was at the jukebox playing Slow Rider by foghat. The two continued to argue even with Jake's presence.

"Thank you." Scooter said in a sweet tone as she kissed Jake on the cheek.

"What's she planning this time?" Jake asked, standing beside Coyote.

"She's trying to get a Bullseye without looking." Coyote informed.

"Hold my drink?" Scooter asked, placing the drink in his hands before he could even answer. Coyote snickered, as Jake glared at his friend.

Scooter covers her hand over her eyes, she has one dart in her hands that is facing the board. Scooter threw the three dots into the board and got a perfect Bullseye. It wasn't in the corner of the red dot, but right in the center.

"Why isn't your Callsign Bullseye?" Coyote asked, as Jake's smirk never left his lips.

"Who taught you that anyways?" Coyote asked, taking a sip of his beer.

"No one, I just hit the target every time." She said, staring at Jake the whole time. Coyote practically gagged when he noticed the fuck eyes they were giving each other.

"I'm out!" He Pat's Jake on the shoulder before leaving the two.

"Everytime huh?" Jake grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. She was basically straddling his thigh.

"Every. Single. Time." She said slowly, with each word their lips getting closer.

"You sure about that?" He rasped.

"Positive." She whispered, their lips crashed together in a slow kiss. Her fingers going into his blonde hair as their noses brushed against each other.

They break apart when they hear the bell ringing again. A group of Naval Pilots head over towards Maverick who was being picked up and thrown out the door. On the other side of the bar Bradley was starting to play Great balls of fire.

"C'mon!" She said running over to Bradley. It was their song. Not his and Natasha's, not he's and Jake's but Bradley's and hers.

Bradley looked around the bar for Cheryl who came running over to the piano. She sat down beside him in the little space they had and she began to play the keys with him. Jake stood behind her resting his hands on her shoulders as they began to sing.

Memories flashing her vision as she remembered Goose playing at the little diner that her dad took her with Maverick. She was four when she wanted to learn how to play piano to play with her favorite Uncle. Then Goose passed, but Bradley and Scooter still played great balls of fire every chance there was a piano.

Outside Maverick watched the kids. He was having the same flashback from when they were kids. Scooter and Bradley sat on the piano as Goose would play. Charlie was standing next to Maverick while Carole sat in Goose' lap. Penny looked outside with a worried look on her face as she noticed a panicked Maverick. He walked away, not wanting to stay any longer than he needed.

That's when he also knew that he wasn't going to gain her trust again. Not after what he did to her.

A/n: sorry this chapter is so long, hope you enjoy this.

#bradley bradshaw x kazansky reader #maverick x you #jake seresin x you #bradley bradshaw x best friend reader #tumblr fyp #top gun maverick #natasha trace x reader

8 notes · View notes

saltsicklover · 7 months

Text

Part Thirteen

This is a long chapter for this fic! It's most definitely a rollercoaster and I should probably just put a huge warning on this chapter because it's a lot! Hangman Sucks, Natasha Sucks, Bob sucks, hell even Sunny sucks towards the end. It's one giant suckfest, most definitely a whump at the end. That's to say, I'd love to know what you think about it!

ALSO This Fic has just surpassed 40k words with this chapter! Technically its over 43k but still! Thank you for reading so many of my words! I love and appreciate all of you!

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6300+

Rating: R

Warnings: Tobacco, Swearing, Fighting, Blood, Crying, Anger, so so much Anger. Bob being slightly obsessed with Sunny's perfume in what could be a low key creepy way.

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

The trilling of Natasha's cellphone does nothing to pull Sunny out of her dumbfounded state, her brain playing Nat's bombshell of a sentence over and over again on loop. A broken record minus the squeak of the vinyl.

"It's about time, Bagman," Natasha answers the call with a swipe of her finger, her voice carrying an aggravated tone. She tucks her phone between her shoulder and her cheek, leaving her hands free to stir her coffee.

"Phoenix," Hangman's voice comes through the phone a bit muffled, like his hand is covering his mouth, "I fucked up,"

If he fucked up, maybe he should sound a bit more remorseful, but Natasha doesn't point that fact out. It's really not important, and it's not like she plans on letting him forget about this any time soon.

"Yeah, no shit," That much is obvious to her, and finally Jake realizes it too, "Glad you finally put that together, what, twelve hours later?" Natasha does nothing to hide her annoyance. If it wasn't for Jake storming from the Hard Deck, his phone going unanswered, then Natasha and Sunny could have been out on the town by now. They would be shopping until Sunny couldn't possibly stuff anything else in her duffel. What's paying for one more checked bag, right?

"Yeah- well, I remembered when I woke up an hour ago-"

"An hour ago?! And you're just returning my call now? Jesus, Bagman, how hung over are you?" Natasha rolls her eyes, her hand coming back up to grasp her phone, though Hangman won't be able to see either action. She hopes that he will hear it in her voice- how ticked off she is becoming. If anyone could make the vocal eye roll a thing, it would be Natasha Trace.

Glancing over at Sunny, Natasha notices she still has the same bewildered expression painted on her features. She can see the gears in Sunny's head turning with the way her eyebrows are furrowed, lips pursed, the only thing missing is the steam that should be pouring out of her ears. Then, Hangman's sputtering from the other side of the phone drags her back to that conversation.

"Spit it out Hangman,"

"I came out to my truck to grab her bag and bring it into my place so it would be safe until you got here, but, Phoenix, it's not here," Seresin's almost whispering the last bit, Natasha even hits her volume button with her thumb in a failed effort to hear him better.

"What?"

Confusion. Natasha hopes she heard him wrong.

"It's not here, Phoenix. Sunny's bag, it's not in the bed of my truck. It isn't in the cab either,"

"What?"

Anger. She hadn't.

"I didn't even remember that I had it until I got my phone plugged in this morning. Damn thing has been dead all night," Jake swears to himself under his breath, feeling the tension growing over the dead space of the call.

Pinching the bridge of your nose is supposed to help stop headaches. Nat has never believed that fact, yet she pinches the bridge of her nose hard with her fingertips.

"I swear to God, Hangman, I am going to murder you if you don't find Sunny's duffle," That gets Sunny's attention, the wheels in her head slowing, expression changing, confusion visible on her face. But, as soon as she locks eyes with Nat, her eyebrows lift to her hairline in question. Natasha pulls the phone away from her ear, but makes zero to attempt to cover the microphone when she tells Sunny, "Hangman fucked up and if he doesn't fix it, I am going to kill him,"

The nod that comes from Sunny pleases Natasha, the trust the younger woman has for her is evident in her lack of concern. Hangman is almost humming through the phone, impatient. The sound of a slamming truck door accompanying the swearing he is failing to cover up.

"Fix it, Hangman," Is the last thing Natasha threatens the man with before hanging up the phone.

"What was all that about?" Sunny has laid herself back down in the sun, one arm under her head, the other coming up to shield her eyes. She still squints a bit, her whole expression wrinkling over.

Natasha notices just how relaxed she is, even with all of the bullshit that has been going on, so she takes a moment to think of her next move. Sunny wriggles a bit in her chair, watching Nat closely, waiting impatiently for an answer. So, Phoenix huffs, releasing a large breath from her lungs.

"Somewhere between last night and this morning your duffle bag disappeared from the back of Hangman's truck," Natasha tries to wave her hand as if to emphasize that this little bit of information is really no big deal. She doesn't necessarily believe this herself, but she doesn't want Sunny's trip to get any worse than it has been already. After all, this isn't exactly how Phoenix had imagined their first visit going. "He is going to find it, but until then, lets find you something to wear and we can use it as an excuse to get you a new outfit."

The wink that Natasha sends Sunny across the deck makes Sunny giggle. Though she knows she should be worried about her lost items, Sunny can't find it in her to care all that much. The biggest disappointment would be having to replace the bag itself. Everything else in that damn duffel bag could go up in cinders and there wouldn't be any big loss. After all, Sunny already abandoned the most important thing to her at Bob's feet, the night before at the Hard Deck.

"Give me a cute shirt to put on over my dress and we can go shopping, how does that sound?" Sunny shoots her friend a smile.

"Deal,"

After Sunny manages to pull her day old clothes back onto her body, fighting off the way they feel tear stained and gritty from the sand, she combs her way though Nat's closet. Her fingers wonder over the hangers, one by one. Each piece is different, but all of them soft and well loved.

"I'm surprised how many pieces ofclothing you have in here," Sunny teases, her voice light as it meets Nat's ears over the sound of running water. "So feminine, too, Nat. I thought you'd dress a little more, I don't know... President of the boy's club,"

Natasha tries to feign offense but the toothbrush that's set between her closed lips keeps her quiet.

"I mean, half of this is still uniform pieces, I know that, but still so feminine," Sunny jokes, trying to ignore the way Nat hangs her upper body out of the bathroom, narrowing her eyes at the younger woman.

"You're in a fucking dress, you yahoo," Phoenix speaks through a mouth of suds, her toothbrush in her hand.

"I know that, and I'm trying not to be," Sunny shoots back, sticking her tongue out.

"I know a few Aviators that would love to help you with that problem," Phoenix's voice sounds a little more muffled from her space in front of the sink, but definitely lacking in suds.

"Bradley would never!" The gasp is fake, but the giggling coming from both women is all too real.

"Maybe not, but I can think of one very deserving man, and one who is less so, who would both be equally thrilled."

"And who exactly is the deserving one, Nash?" Sunny inquires, yanking a t-shirt off of a hanger before tugging it over her head. She ties it in a knot at her waist, allowing the skirt to peak out below it.

Natasha is leaning out from the bathroom once more, grinning at Sunny as she fixes her clothes in the mirror. The shirt reads FORD is large blue letters across the front. It clashes a bit with Sunny's dress, but the fabric is so soft she can't help but claim it for the day. She chuckles to herself, thinking it's most definitely something Bob might have owned once upon a time, and that thought warms her a bit on the inside.

Natasha is grinning because she knows that shirt wasn't hers, once upon a time. It had been stolen from Bob one day when she came home from a night out and found it discarded on the hardwood by the front door. It was intended to be a little piece of blackmail, but this, this was better. She wants to let Sunny know that little tidbit of information, but decides to keep it to herself, enjoying the joy on her friend's face. Maybe Bob will see her in it and say something, or maybe he will enjoy getting to see her in it too.

"Behave while I am in the shower, would you?" Natasha's voice is muffled by the now closing bathroom door, the sound of water coming through the pipes erupts a moment later, giving Sunny zero time to actually form an answer. With a mumble of "not likely" to herself, Sunny runs her hand over a garment bag that's hung towards the back of the closet. After a chance look back towards the bathroom to insure the door is still shut, she pulls the zipper on the garment bag down, revealing Natasha's stark white Dress Uniform in all of it's official glory. The damn thing is almost blinding in person between the pristine fabric and the shining of the buttons.

An idea that hits Sunny almost makes her laugh out loud. With nimble fingers, Sunny pulls the entirely too white jacket off of the hanger. She pulls it on, carefully easing the stiff fabric up over her shoulders. With one gentle finger, Sunny feels the coldness of the nametag pinned to the chest.

The plate reads the wrong name, Trace, filled in with white paint.

Sunny takes in the sight of herself in the full length mirror Nat has propped up against the wall in the front of her bedroom. She attempts to ignore the tight feeling in her chest.

The bright red of Sunny's dress, and the gray shirt she had just pulled over her body a few moments before, now partially obscured by the bright uniform top. It looks funny on her, from the way her eyes look to innocent against the hardness of the uniform to the way her fingers dance along the stiffness of the fabric.

The urge to see Bob in is own uniform tangles in her chest along with the tight feeling- there is not enough space for both and she wants nothing more than to rip the fabric from her body. But, as she moves to pull it from her shoulders, she catches a glance of herself in the mirror one last time, pain in her expression, loneliness in the spaces of darkness below her eyes and suddenly, the uniform looks a little bit more correct.

---

When Bob pulls his truck into the driveway later that morning, he carefully shifts down into park, shutting off his truck with a feeling of defeat clawing at his chest. He knows he shouldn't be tiptoeing around his own home, or holding his breath over the fact that Natasha's car is still parked out front. Yet, he can't shake that feeling from his bones. Both women still have to be home, not that Bob really expected anything different. After all, Sunny'sduffle is sitting in the passenger seat of his truck and he didn't expect her to wear her day old clothes out of the house.

It's not like Bob thought she would mind, exactly. Sunny grew up on a ranch after all, and day old clothes worn in the city are still cleaner than any workwear found on a ranch. But, it's the principal. At least, that's what Bob has been telling himself.

The fact that Hangman took off with Sunny's bag last night in the first place ticked Bob off, and so Bob went over to Jake's place to get it himself. Bob told himself when he pulled into Jake's driveway that he was doing the right thing- fixing his wingman's problem. He planned to call him later and let him know that the bag had been picked it up. Jake was bound to be sleeping off some sort of monster hangover, right? And there was no selfish motivation behind it, right?

Bob lays his head against the steering wheel, forcing a couple of deep breaths into his system. It's getting increasingly more difficult to lie to himself about Sunny, now that she had walked back into his life, looking like everything he had ever wanted. Hell, she looked better, if that was even possible. She looked like his future, and up until she opened her mouth and the pieces fell into place, Bob thought he might break out his rusty moves and flirt the night away with her.

That certainly didn't happen.

Now that he has Sunny's bag, he's going to have to face her, right? After all, he can't exactly avoid her the whole time she is here, that wouldn't make him a very good host. Even if all of this history is stuck between them like some sort of unconquerable dividing force. Bob put himself in this situation, twice now. First when he abandoned her all those years ago, and again just this morning when he drove himself to Hangman's house and pilfered the bag from the back of his truck.

The urge to unzip the bag and let the smell of Sunny's perfume flood the cab of the old Ford is almost too tempting. He can smell the faintest bit of left over fragrance on the bag itself, the smell all wood smoke and cedar under the lightest brush of vanilla that seems to be fading faster than the rest. Bob can't help the way the corner of his lip curls up at the scent. Sunny has never been a flowers and sweets kind of girl, those scents all too feminine and soft for a woman like her, at least, that's how Bob saw it. Hell, the damn burnt woodsmoke smell reminds him of home and it just makes sense that Sunny would wear it.

Sunny has always been the worlds strongest girl in Bob's eyes. Maybe that's what allowed him to be so mean to her during school, and why he stood there and took her verbal beating in front of the crowd at the bar. Growing up in a Man's world, on a ranch in Florence, no doubt forced her into being strong- and if she couldn't punch her way out, she could sure as hell use her words. All Bob cared about was the fact that those words were directed at him, even if they hurt as he replays them over and over in his mind.

There's that old saying, you can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl. Bob assumes the same thing can be said about Montana. After all, Duchenne- Sunny is a Montana girl through and through and he can't separate them in his head.

Hell, even if Bob has to remind himself over and over again that Duchenne isn't the one sitting in his house, it's Sunny now, all grown up, Bob still looks at her and sees, strength, sees home. He can see the clear of the sky in the smoothness of her skin. The wind plays through her messy hair, now in metaphor but still all there, fresh and crisp, bringing goosebumps to his skin.

The damn smell of cedar and woodsmoke just completes the picture in his head; it leaves him yearning, which in a way feels just like home too.

There isn't a way he can put it off anymore without a fear that he will throw the car into reverse and not come back until dark, so Bob pulls the bag over his shoulder and heads into the house. The sound of water running through the pipes hits his ears as soon as he walks in, and a deep breath he has been holding makes its way out of his lungs.

Maybe he'll get lucky, he thinks, maybe she's in the shower and he can give the bag to Phoenix, delay talking to Sunny for another day, maybe two. Bob stalks up the stairs, the weight of Sunny's duffle threatening to collapse him at any second.

It's not the weight, not really.

It's the impending doom of it all. The bomb just a few seconds before it goes off, fragile and ticking down with each step he takes.

The floor board creak beneath him, and it's a fitting sound, really, the groaning of the house matching the aching of his bones as he fights against the gravity pulling him down; pulling him in. It's the dizzying smell of woodsmoke that is flooding his senses that really seals the deal. It is stuck in his nose, much like the scent of jet fuel used to be. A part of him hopes that it also takes weeks to fade, to become something he no longer notices, that way, he can drown it while she is here, but then it will disappear our the door with Sunny.

There is a moment where, just for a second, Bob wants to turn right around and head back out to the truck. Maybe not to leave, but to just exist in that scent for a little while longer without the fear of losing it. He hopes that it will stick around, that it will have embed itself into his upholstery.

Hell, he hopes Sunny will stick around too, but that thought is fleeting and too far fetched to entertain for more than a second. After all, what's worth sticking around Miramar for, anyway?

The flash of stark white in his peripheral stops Bob in his tracks at the top of the stairs. There are few things in this house he knows to be that color, that bright, and none of them even come close to making his blood rush through his ears like the sight before him does. Sunny stands twisting her body in the mirror in Phoenix's room, the older woman's dress uniform jacket pulled carefully over her shoulders. Bob can't help but watch her, his mouth slightly agape has he takes in her form, clad in stark white, his Ford t-shirt speaking out between the open buttons.

Suddenly, Bob is fighting against his own body to drag some sort of breath into his lungs.

There is a wave of jealousy that snakes through Bob at his core. If she's in anyone's dress whites, she should be in his. Bob knows Natasha poses no threat, and hell, he is acting like Sunny is his to protect when in reality she is almost the furthest thing from that. From him and his love and his hands. But still, there is a part of him that's thankful that the jacket is hers, if Sunny has��to be in someone else's. For a moment, the thought of Sunny is Hangman's uniform flashes through the forefront of his mind, but he doesn't entertain it any longer than it takes for the anger to drift out to his fingertips.

The anger sits there, in his hands, beating under his fingernails and in the densest part of his palms. It's hot, searing, burning.

Bob is not a stranger to the feeling, to the yearning. No, it's second nature by now.

He is fighting for another breath, the ache somewhere between swallowed salt water and broken ribs.

Anger will not ruin this moment, Bob won't let it. Instead, he watches as Sunny's polished nails run over the pristine fabric, the lacquer only making the jacket look brighter. Bob takes in the subtle gleam in her eyes as she adjusts one of the cuffs. The wave of jealousy rolls through him again, this time, though, Bob wishes it was him under her well polished fingertips, so he could see the way the red of them pops out against his skin as she adjusts his cuffs.

He almost lets himself imagine it- Sunny helping him into his dress whites. Bob has been in the Navy long enough to not need help with a uniform, he can pin his own ribbon racks on and make sure his name plate is sitting straight on his chest. Bob doesn't need the help. Yet, he can almost feel the gentleness that would be Sunny's touch, buttoning up those tacky gold buttons. He swears, if he closes his eyes he can see Sunny smiling up at him, the bright white of the uniform shining in her eyes like sunlight and it would be beautiful.

And so he does. Bob closes his eyes right there, on the top landing of the staircase and lets himself imagine the way her fingers would bush over his uniform, too delicately, and how he would have to practice the upmost level of self control to keep himself from kissing all of that gentleness out of her.

He takes the image of Sunny, smiling up at him on Prom night, under the stars, and lets himself remember how she felt under his hands. How it felt to kiss her. The feelings ebb and flow through him, his imagination pulled completely out to sea. He can feel the way her rings would dig into his skin, like they had years before. That feeling has never been forgotten. He wants to know how it would feel for Sunny to run her hands down the fabric of his uniform- or how it might feel for her to unzip the impossibly long zipper of his flight suit.

Bob stops himself before his mind wanders too far- before he's unable to reign it in.

When Bob finally cracks his eyes back open, Sunny is standing there, her hands still on the crisp white fabric near the bottom of the coat, eyes meeting, gaze tangling with Bob's own. Her gaze is a bit more sad, or maybe grief stricken, but she no longer looks angry as she stares at him. His breath hitches, the strangled breath caught in the denseness of his chest, and like a deer caught in the headlights, he has nowhere to go. The only thing left for him to do is squeeze his eyes shut and wait for the impact. And yet, he can't even get himself to squeeze his fucking eyes shut. Not when Sunny's finally looking at him with such kindness in her eyes.

God, how Bob missed that look.

The way Sunny looks at him is like a rush of blood straight to his head; like turning three-sixty in the cockpit a few thousand feet in the air. But that he was trained for- this? Nothing could have prepared him for this. For the softness behind her eyes where he has only been met with sadness in meetings past. Then, Sunny quirks an awkwardly shy expression, the whole thing coming out a little bit sideways and so very guilty.

Neither of the pair is willing to speak first. Just the night before, Sunny couldn't keep her mouth shut and Bob wanted nothing more than to speak to her. He wanted to beg for her forgiveness. But now, they both stand in the cross fire of silence and desperate stares and it's not as heavy as either expected it to be.

The sick swarming feeling of anxiety is back in Bob's stomach, still raging but less sour than before.

When hasn't this girl, this woman before him, not made him anxious?

Maybe it's the softness of her eyes that quells it, or that guilty little grin that hasn't left her face even as the tinge of crushed raspberries takes over her skin. Bob tastes blood, the crimson invading his mouth from how hard he is biting his cheek.

His heart hits against the backside of his ribs, calling out to her hands once more, the feeling threatening to make him as dizzy as her perfume.

Silently, Bob slips her bag from his shoulder, taking a few steps closer to the bedroom door. He stops just outside of the jamb, still in the safety of the hallway. He brings a hand up to the jamb, leaning in just a little bit, just to get a little closer to her. Bob is chancing everything with this, as he leans, but he's do anything right in this moment if it meant he could be just that much closer with her eyes on him. Hell, he'd do anything to keep her smiling at him like that, even if it looks so damn guilty as it does nothing to cover up the sadness in her eyes.

Then, Sunny is moving towards him, still clad in that damn white coat, sad eyes, and guilty smile.

Bob's heart almost stops. The closer she gets, the more irradic it beats. He can see his Ford t-shirt under the open jacket and that's almost kills him.

But, his heart keeps beating, he keeps living, so he holds the bag out to her like a peace offering, though he could never use it as one. It dangles between them, the muscles in his arm flexing to keep the heavy duffle from meeting the floor. The look Sunny gives him almost brings him to his knees, a fit place for him to beg for forgiveness, though his tongue is dry and still in the prison of his mouth.

Then, her hand is reaching. Inch by inch, second by second, until her fingertips run over the back of his hand, so soft but still there, before grasping the strap in her own fist. He can't believe the moment that has just transpired between them; how soft her touch was or the fact that it was really her who touched him.

And again, Bob's heart calls to her hands like the moon calls to the waves and he is left wishing that it could be strong enough to pull them closer; until he is gifted with something just as sweet.

"Thank you, Bobby," The words leave Sunny's tongue as no more than a mere whisper, but Bob wouldn't have missed it. He couldn't have. Not when it was her words- not when it's her.

Words fail him again, but instinct kicks in and he is bringing his free hand up to his hat, nodding at her with a gentle touch to it's brim. Bob lets his fingertips graze over the brim just as soft as Sunny's touch grazed over his hand. The smile he is given lights his nervous system up, sending pin prick sparks dancing across the expanse of his body. Then, he is backing away, back towards the stairs.

Bob knows he has to get out of there, he just has to. There needs to be just one moment between them that isn't tainted. And Sunny smiled at him, in that fucking jacket that she had zero business wearing with his t-shirt underneath and it sent his mind reeling the closer she stood. So, he has to go.

The takes the first two backwards before finally turning his back to her, unable to fight the smile trying to claw its way into his face. In that moment he knew he finally murdered Dr. Jekyll, and the feeling of standing over the metaphorical corpse of a twisted doctor is almost as good as that smile of hers when it's directed right towards him.

When Natasha finally exits the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a towel in her hand as soaks up the water droplets that still fall from her hair, she is met with the sight of Sunny. She is still clad in Nat's coat, her duffle in her hand, staring out the doorway into an empty hallway. She stands so still, so quiet, Natasha thinks something might be wrong from the way the younger woman is just standing there. That is until she notices the smile on Sunny's lips and the doe eyed look that has taken over her features.

That makes Phoenix smile too, her expression filled with a little too much knowing. She can almost picture the way Bob must look, leaning up against something, with that damn cowboy hat in his hand, or maybe held against his chest to cage in the beating of his heart. He's wearing that same fucking smile, that same doe eyed, hopelessly, head over heels in love look.

Natasha want's to scream "go after him, you idiot!" but it's too soon, they need more time. Bob needs more time to figure out just how to make up for it all, and Sunny needs more time to trust again, to trust him again. Phoenix then notices the bit of sadness in the depts of Sunny's eyes.

"Sunny," Natasha's voice is quiet, in attempt to not spook the lovesick look of of her friends face. Sunny doesn't turn from the door, still staring hopelessly into the hallway. She mutters a "Yeah?" in response. "Did he walk away from you again?"

There is anger spiking through Natasha now, her fists balled, knuckles white.

"Yes,"

That's all Natasha needs to hear. Suddenly, she is pushing past Sunny, rage taking over her in an instant. Nat is already down the hall, leaving her standing there sputtering.

"Robert Floyd!" Natasha comes crashing into the living room. There is no answer from inside the house, so she turns, heading right for the front door. Sunny is clamoring down the stairs behind her, confusion and fear laced over her features.

"Nash!" Sunny is hot on her friend's heels, her duffle bag now thrown over her shoulder, as the door swings shut with a loud slam. The walls shake, the nob still vibrating as Sunny pulls the door open.

By the time Sunny makes it out to the driveway, Natasha is pulling Bob close by the collar of his shirt. Then, she is throwing him to the ground. His body hits the pavement hard; he winces, his glasses falling from the bridge of his nose. Bob opens his mouth to speak, but is met with a sharp right hook to the jaw. Then, a fist meets his nose.

It's not clear which is louder in Bob's ears, the crunching of cartridge or the small scream that manages to escape from Sunny. He can taste the blood, metallic and sharp in his mouth, leaking into the paces between his lips and gums.

"I told you not to hurt her again, Floyd," Bob is groaning, not in response but out of pain. He makes no effort to fight back as Phoenix drops on top of him, ready to hit him again.

But the punch never comes.

And then her weight is being dragged off of him, Phoenix protesting the whole time. Bob carefully brings his hands to his face, blood smearing all over his skin. It's already dripping from his chin, collecting in dark, angry patches on his shirt.

"What the fuck was that, Natasha?!" It's Sunny's voice that cuts through Bob's bleary state, his whole face wet. Sunny is still holding Natasha back, her hands pulling Phoenix's elbows together behind her back. He was just standing there, smoking, thinking about how fucking pretty Sunny looked in his shirt, and the way she touched him, and the next thing he knew, Natasha had him, and now he couldn't be more confused. This's an answer he wants to hear, too.

"He had one more chance, Sunny, and he fucking hurt you! What else did you expect me to do?" This is the most angry Bob had seen her, even after yesterday. Sunny doesn't exactly look surprised, but God, she looks hurt.

"No," The word is so stern it get's Phoenix to stop fighting against her grip. The anger is slowly simmering out of Natasha, and Sunny may as well have been absorbing it because she is fucking livid now.

"But he hurt you, Sun-"

"No," She starts again, letting go of Nat's elbows, only to put herself between her friend and Bob. Suddenly the aviators are wearing equally confused expressions, but neither dare interrupt Sunny's angry tirade. "First of all, Natasha, you do not get to come out here, acting like a goddamn fucking fool then turn around and use that nickname with me. When I told you to call me that, I thought we had an understanding. Be there for each other, not fight each other's battles," Sunny's pointing a finger in Natasha's face. She is inching closer and closer, and it's taking all of Nat's will not to slink away.

"Second, Bobby didn't do a goddamn thing. If you would've stuck around instead of going all Rambo, you might have found out what happened. We actually came to an understanding," Sunny's not sure if that's really what happened, or if an understanding is really something that could be reached between them, but it seems to be the best word to describe the complicated situation right now.

Natasha looks at the blindingly bright jacket on Sunny, now decorated with Bob's blood. The coat is ruined now, stained with anger and lines crossed. She glances down to her hands, taking in the bright crimson decorating her knuckles. Natasha feels sick.

"Third," Sunny takes her outstretched finger and tips up Natasha's chin with it, making the older woman look her in the eyes. Sunny pays no attention to the tears threatening to flood over her waterlines. "Look me in the eyes when I'm speaking to you. Even if he did hurt me, that doesn't give you the excuse to punch him, let alone break his nose! What the hell were you thinking?"

Tears are slipping from Natasha's eyes now, her lower lip quivering. She chances a look over Sunny's shoulder to Bob, who is still bleeding profusely from his nose. He doesn't try and stop the blood, instead to focused on the women in front of him and the way Sunny is defending his honor. Then, she is shaking her head, sidestepping Natasha and heading back for the front door.

Both Bob and Natasha watch her go. Nat is doing the best she can to hold in her tears, push them back down as she sniffles. Bob wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, already too coated in blood to really help anything. It just smears the blood further over the expanse of his rapidly bruising face.

When Sunny returns a moment later, she has two purses slung over her shoulder, an ice pack and a set of keys in her hand. She approaches Natasha, she is shoving the keys and the smaller of the two purses into the older woman's hands. Natasha sniffles again, taking the items from Sunny's hands without a word. Hell, even if Natasha knew what to say, she wouldn't have been able to peel the words from he tongue.

Then, Sunny is moving towards Bob. She kneels down, grabbing his now bent glasses from the pavement. Folding them up as best as she can, she places them on Bob's thigh. She is shucking the once crisp white coat from her shoulders a second later, wrapping the icepack in it before offering it to him as a sort of rag to help with all the blood. Bob takes it with a shaky hand. She guides it in his hand up to his nose. Sunny attempts to give him a reassuring smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Natasha is going to take you to the hospital," The words are sharp and loud, loud enough for Nat to hear. They are meant for her anyway. If Sunny's tone of voice didn't make him feel sick, the completely crushed expression on Phoenix's face would have.

With a quick squeeze of Bob's thigh, Sunny is moving away. As she stands, she swipes the still smoldering cigarillo from the ground, bringing it up to her lips. The look Sunny sends Natasha as she grabs her duffle bag from the grass sends chills down both her and Bob's spines. Then, Sunny's back is turned to the pair as she heads down the driveway.

The Aviators watch as she goes, turning down the street and slowly disappearing into the distance. Neither dare to move, dare to speak. After all, there is nothing to say, not when there is so much understanding between them now. Natasha knows now, how Bob felt at the Hard Deck as he watched Sunny walk away. Her anger clouded her eyes before, too focused on getting answers. But, she knows now, too, having watched Sunny walk away in a cloud of stolen smoke.

When Nat finally turns back to Bob, he looks at her with such empathy, and that fucking breaks her.

A strangled sob wracks through her from deep in her chest, clawing its way out of her throat as hot tears all but burn trails down her face. Then, Bob is holding a bloody hand out to her, beckoning her closer, to sit with him. So she does, the tears coming hard and fast, almost choking her. Bob wraps a comforting arm around Phoenix's shoulders, pulling her into him, a makeshift way to ground the both. She buries her face into the now crimson jacket as Bob rubs her back, letting her cry. As the sun gets higher in the sky, and the tears slow, neither attempt to move from their space on the concrete. Both are too weighed down from the day, from the fight, from watching Sunny walk away from their fucking mess.

And so, the pair sit on the pavement, up against Bob's truck, covered in slowly drying blood; watching the road that their girl disappeared down, just hoping, praying that she might turn back around.

#bob floyd angst #robert floyd angst #robert bob floyd angst #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert floyd x you #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #best friend phoenix #best friend natasha trace #once an asshole

62 notes · View notes

criminalamnesia · 2 years

Text

Into Your Arms

warnings: fluff, more teasing and Jake being a flirt, not proofread (for the most part), part 2 to Habits of My Heart!

summary: after surprising Jake at the hard deck, you spend the night at his apartment. now you’re trying to figure out what’s happening to your friendship.

author’s note: part 2 to ‘Habits of my Heart’! also I wasn’t expecting to further that story, but it’s been getting some love and I’ve got some ideas, so maybe this will be a little mini-series? Let me know your thoughts! also you can read ‘Habits of my heart’ (aka part one) here

You woke up the next morning in a daze. Had last night really happened, or were you dreaming? Had Jake kissed you? Had you kissed him back? Maybe the few beers you’d had impacted you more than you thought.

You knew that nothing else had happened. You two had made-out for a while, then you just talked until the late hours of the night. You were too tired from your flight for anything else, and besides– he wasn’t getting you that easily.

Jake had fallen asleep first. You two had been laying side by side in his bed, staring at the ceiling and saying whatever came to mind. It made you think of some rom-com, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment.

When you eventually heard his soft snores, you stifled a laugh and got comfier on your side of the bed. He had always been the first one to fall asleep, ever since you two were kids. You could stay up until the next morning– but Jake? He was out by midnight.

“I need my beauty sleep,” he would grin, and you would always roll your eyes and give a witty retort.

Your thoughts of last night quickly dissipated at the sound of a loud bang coming from a different room, followed by a loud curse. You snorted, rolling out of Jake’s bed and trodding into the kitchen. You were still wearing your clothes from yesterday– some jeans and a t-shirt. Not the best to sleep in, but you were exhausted.

Jake was wearing a raggedy navy t-shirt and sweats, fighting to make a decent breakfast with a variety of ingredients strewn across the counter.

“Having fun?” You said, causing him to startle. He jumped, dropping the egg he’d been holding. It fell to the floor with a crack and Jake groaned as the yolk spread onto the tile.

“Give a guy some warning, would you?” He huffed, grabbing a paper towel to clean up the mess.

You rolled your eyes and stepped further into the kitchen. You’d never been in his apartment before– well, this apartment. The navy had him moving a lot, and because you were both so busy, there wasn’t much time to spend at one another’s homes.

You took it in, ignoring his annoyed muttering as he cleaned up the mess. It was nice, definitely Jake’s style. A little more modern, but still homey and cozy-feeling. Perhaps that was his country roots peaking out.

He tossed the dirty paper towel into the trash and turned back to his concoction. You approached him, standing on your tiptoes to look over his shoulder.

“What the fuck is that supposed to be?” You asked into his ear, causing him to jump again.

“Jesus fuck, stop doing that!” He turned, crossing his arms over his chest.

You laughed, “aren’t you supposed to be in the navy? I thought you guys needed to be aware of your surroundings all the time.”

“Excuse me for trying to focus on making us breakfast,” he grumbled, turning back towards the stove.

“Have you ever even used this kitchen before?”

“Yes!” He shot back.

“Have you used it other than to reheat leftovers or microwave meals?” You followed up.

“…Mind your own business. Always so noisy, it’s not attractive, honestly,” he muttered the last bit to himself as he reached for another egg.

You rolled your eyes and moved towards him, pushing against him to move him out of the way. Caught off guard, he stumbled to the side, but not without protesting as you surveyed his work.

“Jake, your mother is an amazing cook, and you’re telling me this is what you’re going to make me eat? Did she not teach you anything?” You grabbed the frying pan, holding it up to show him the very burnt, sad looking omelette.

“Just cut off the burnt parts,” he told you.

“It’s all burnt, dipshit,” you replied.

He huffed, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms once more.

“Fine then, let’s see you cook, master chef.”

“Hell no. Let’s go get McDonalds or something,” you told him, reaching to turn off the stove before tossing the burnt omelette into the trash and dropping the dirty pan into the kitchen sink.

“My burnt omelette would be better than McDonald’s,” he said with a hint of disgust, following you as you walked out of the kitchen.

You shrugged, turning to face him as you both entered his bedroom. “Then go fish your burnt omelette out of the trash. I’m going to get something.”

He groaned but didn’t protest. Jake started towards the bathroom, but you ran past him, quickly slamming the door behind you and clicking the lock before he could come in.

“Dibs on shower first!” You called from behind the door.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, then you heard him laugh.

“You left your clothes out here.”

In your haste to beat him to the shower, you had totally forgotten your change of clothes (which were actually some of his old clothes, seeing as you’d left all of your things at the hotel you were supposed to be staying at). And knowing Jake, he wasn’t going to just give them to you.

“Leave them by the door?” You asked hopefully. He laughed again, the sound growing fainter as he presumably left the room. You groaned before accepting your fate and turning the shower on anyways.

—

Ten minutes later, you cracked open the bathroom door the tiniest bit to see if Jake was in his bedroom. You were clutching the fluffy bath towel around you like your life depended on it.

You didn’t see him through the crack, so you opened the door a little wider. Still nothing. Letting out a breath of relief, you pushed the door fully open and made your way to his dresser. The clothes you had forgotten were still sitting there, and you thanked whatever higher power there was that Jake wasn’t cruel enough to remove them.

With the clothes in one hand, the towel with the other, you tried to silently creep back towards the bathroom.

As soon as you turned around, however, you were met by Jake’s smug form as he blocked the entry to the bathroom.

You groaned and he grinned, then whistled as you watched his eyes take you in very slowly.

“You’re a perv,” you said, annoyance in your voice.

“No ma’am, I’m an opportunist.”

“You’re full of shit, that’s what you are. Move, Tex. Or I will move you.” You walked towards him, a mere foot separating the two of you. He was still wearing that shit-eating grin.

“We gonna wrestle? I’m not one to question your choices, but you may not want wrestle in a towel…”

“We’re not going to wrestle. I’m going to kick your ass for being annoying.”

“Is that a promise?” He asked.

“It’s a threat,” you responded.

“Hot.”

“Jake, move!” You groaned, using the hand holding your clothes to push at his shoulder. He laughed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his chest. You stumbled forward, and you surely would’ve face-planted had he not been there to catch you.

“Easy there, hot stuff. Don’t want you fallin’.” He chuckled, tucking his chin to look down at you.

“I have never wanted to punch you in the face more than I do in this very moment.”

“Keep talking dirty and see what happens,” he replied.

You scrunched up your nose and once again pushed at his chest. “Gross. Has anyone ever told you how gross you are?”

“You have. Many times. Including right now.”

You wormed against him, but he grabbed you by the shoulders to still you. His grip wasn’t forceful– it was gentle. You stopped moving, looking up at him. He grinned down at you.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, his voice quieter than before.

“Oh, so now you’re asking if you can kiss me?” You replied, vividly remembering last night when he just crashed his lips to yours with no warning.

“Well, can I?” He asked again.

You paused for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”

Without another word, Jake leaned his head down and pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes closed as your savored the feeling, and you had to stop yourself from throwing both your arms around his neck.

You pulled apart first, and he opened his mouth to speak. Before he could even get his first word out, you shoved (a little harshly) him and stumbled into the bathroom, slamming the door in his face. He was too stunned to stop you.

“Now we’re definitely going to McDonalds.” You called out to him through the door as you began to get dressed.

“Yeah, whatever,” he replied, but you knew he’d give in to whatever you wanted. He always had.

—

After Jake showered and changed, the two of you climbed into his truck and made your way to McDonalds. He grumbled the entire time, but you ignored him in favor of eating your food.

After leaving, he started driving in new direction. Confused, you raised your eyebrows and looked curiously out the window. Jake didn’t say anything, and for once, you didn’t pester him about it.

Ten minutes later, he had pulled into a public parking area with beach access. You frowned as he turned the car off, looking at you with a smile.

“What, you don’t like the beach?” He asked, brows furrowed in slight confusion.

“I do, it’s just that I’m currently dressed like Adam Sandler in your baggy clothes, we don’t have towels or anything, and we’re not wearing bathing suits.”

“I think I just fell asleep while you were talking, that was so boring and whiny. C’mon,” he grinned, pushing open his door and hopping out of the truck. “Live a little!”

Begrudgingly you followed him out of the car. He waited until you were beside him to start the trek up the sandy dunes to the beach. You followed behind, internally cringing at the feeling of sand getting into your tennis shoes.

When the two of you finally made it to the firmer sand, you took a chance to admire the pretty blue water. You’d never been to California before, but you’d always heard about their beaches.

Smiling, you made your way towards the water. Luckily, there weren’t very many people around. The ones that did paid you more than one glance, but you ignored them as you slipped off your shoes and socks, abandoning them at the waters edge. You stepped forward as the next little wave came crashing forward, washing over your feet.

Jake made his way to stand beside you, having also shed his shoes. He was more appropriately dressed– having worn flip flops and clothes that properly fit. Then again, he’d known where he was taking the two of you. Smug bastard.

“Happy now?” He asked, bringing you out of your thoughts. You turned your head to look at him.

“Mhm. Happy with the beach? Yes. Happy with you? That’s yet to be decided,” you told him.

He sucked in a breath, pushing his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Tough crowd.”

You giggled as you dug your toes into the wet sand.

“When are you leaving?” He asked after a moment, turning his body towards yours.

“I’m supposed to fly back tomorrow. I’ve got work to get back to. It’s a miracle I was able to get these few days off, and I’ll be making it up in overtime– but it was worth it. I guess.”

You tacked on that last part to try and not give his ego a boost, but you knew it was a futile effort. Jake’s ego was almost as big as Texas.

He nodded his head as his lips quirked up in a smile. It wasn’t one of his smug or teasing ones. It was real, genuine, and it made you happy to see it.

Jake was so rarely serious in front of you. He had walls– you had them, too. But not to his degree. Getting him to open up was like pulling teeth, so you cherished any true, real, deep emotion and vulnerability you could get out of him.

“I could fly back with you.”

Your eyebrows shot up, mouth slightly agape. “Don’t you have things to take care of around here? I mean, you just got back.”

He shrugged, taking a hand out of one of his pockets to push it through his wind-blown hair. “I already talked with Rooster. His girl’s looking for a place to stay. I told him she could rent my place from me for a bit until she finds something else, or until I come back. It’s worked out.”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me this?”

“I talked to him while you were in the shower. You used up like, all of the hot water, by the way.”

You lightly hit his arm, offended. “I did not! I made sure to be quick.”

“Whatever you say,” he chuckled.

The sound of the crashing waves washed over both of you. You inhaled the sea’s salty scent deeply before turning to face Jake.

“You have to buy a plane ticket.”

“No problem,” he replied.

“Where are you going to stay? Your parents don’t have room for you anymore.”

“I can’t stay with you?”

You groaned, hanging your head. You were going to offer him a place to stay ever since he said he was coming home, but he didn’t have to know that. Plus, it was fun to tease him.

“I mean, you can, but your ass is sleeping on the couch.”

“We can’t share? We shared last night juuuuust fine.”

“Oh, fuck off. That’s different.”

“Is it?” He asked, brushing your shoulder with his.

“Yes. We were both a little intoxicated and we fell asleep talking. That’s not how it’s going to be back in Texas.”

“Does it have to be like that for us to share a bed?”

You sighed, pinching your brows together in frustration. Why did he ask so many questions? And why was he trying to bait you?

“Because things are… mixed up between us now.” You told him, folding your arms across your chest.

“I think they’re perfectly clear,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You like me, I like you. We kissed.”

“That doesn’t exactly make us a couple,” you retorted.

“Well, do you want to be my girlfriend?”

You went silent, thinking about his question. You had known him for so long, and a relationship could ruin everything. Or it could be everything. Big chance, big payoff, big risk.

But you didn’t know if you were ready to enter a relationship with him. He’d just gotten back, for heaven’s sake. You hadn’t properly talked to him in weeks, and he still wouldn’t lower his walls around you. You wanted him, you knew that you did, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

But when did he start wanting you?

Jake looked at you expectantly. You inhaled deeply.

“No. Not yet.”

He looked surprised, but he quickly masked his emotions and nodded nonchalant-like.

“Okay.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I just don’t want to jump right in–”

“Okay,” he interrupted. You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t get upset, Jake. You just came back. We haven’t seen each other in forever. Forgive me for wanting to go slow.”

“No, you’re right,” he replied. You looked at him, and you could tell he was being genuine. But you could also tell that he was a little hurt. It occurred to you that no woman had probably told him ‘no’ before.

You gave him a small smile before stepping closer to him and resting your head against his shoulder. He instantly leaned his head on top of yours and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Thanks for bringing me here, even though I look like Adam Sandler.”

“You’re welcome, Adam.” He laughed.

“Shut up.”

445 notes · View notes

thewordswewrite · 2 years

Text

⍟ Look My Way ⍟

«Chapter 1» - Beck and Call

Pairing | Sex Worker!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary | When it comes to dollar signs and business deals, you know a lot but as for matters of the heart, well, you know very little. When a scantily clad Steve Rogers stumbles into your life, you decide to pay for all the help you can get. *Pretty Woman AU*

Warnings | prostitution, implied and explicit sexual content, explicit language

W/C | 5.7k

A/N | Much of the plot of this story follows the events of Pretty Woman (1990) with a twist. Only a few lines are lifted directly from the script. Steve is younger than reader but not by much. Next chapter will be out sometime next week. Comments and feedback welcomed. Remember to respect and support sex workers and enjoy!

“You just think I’m at your beck and call!”

As much as you wanted to toss the phone out the window and right into the heated infinity pool or, hell, maybe into one of the ‘suits’ complimentary cocktails, you kept it pressed to your ear, the nagging pain in your shoulder returning.

“Wanda, honey, I do not believe that you’re at my beck and call.” You plopped down on the white leather sofa, letting your girlfriend drone on about what an emotionless, inattentive partner you are. By this time in your career, you could just about count on two hands how many relationships have ended with a conversation similar to this and that included your unfortunate marriage to an ex-husband who was more compatible with your credit card than you.

“That’s it, I’m moving out!” She hung up with a huff and it was for the best, for you knew you didn’t possess the words or the care to convince her otherwise. It was true, you haven’t been know to be the cuddliest of people, at least not since business took off for you but that was what made you good at what you did; you didn’t get emotionally involved in your business deals and that made it all that much easier when it came down to it. After all, you had to make the decisions that others weren’t willing to make. How could it be that very thing that made you so successful, simultaneously made you so lonely? Was it not enough to provide for your partners? To give them the financial comfort and stability to find their own success?

Rubbing that horrible ache on your shoulder, you stood at the wall of windows watching the investors and the potential investors play a game of Simon Says, trying to find the right person to grovel to that would push them in the direction of their future millions. Well, it wasn’t you. Not today.

You decided you need some air, exhausted from the pandering of the party and more so the disappointment in Wanda’s voice. Stark hadn’t shown up anyway, just as you had predicted and your potential deal with the absent proprietor was the only leverage Natasha had in getting you to show. You slipped the strap of your heels off one by one and held them in your hand as you padded down the carpeted hallway.

At the top of the stairs, you passed by a young blonde man in a charcoal gray suit, an employee of yours who followed behind you like a stray pup. He began to mumble something about the party but you weren’t interested, not until Stark’s name crossed his lips.

“Well Natasha had suggested-”

“Natasha is just my lawyer. I make the suggestions. Now, how did the Stark stock open on the Nikkei?” You continued to make your way down the stairs, not bothering to look at the blonde as you spoke, only interested in finding the quietest route to the exit.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? The stocks opened maybe…90 minutes ago. You have to keep on top of it. What do I pay you for?” To your left was sweet release in the form of glass double doors. The man gaped at you, inviting the image of a goldfish into your head. You sighed and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. “Wrap this thing up for me will you,” you gestured to the party, “as soon as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As you reached the door, an older gentleman dressed in a three piece suit handed you your coat. You heard your name called from one or more of the partygoers as you slipped out the door. It wasn’t your responsibility anymore, you told yourself; you had already passed that on to someone else. The poor boy. You made a mental note to tell Natasha to keep an eye on that one.

A groan escaped from your lips as you bumped right into your limo, that just happened to be so perfectly quartered in behind several other cars. You couldn’t take the limo and you wouldn’t go back in so you searched for the next best thing.

“Is this Ms. Romanoff’s car?” You called to the valet boys. As if she had been waiting for her cue, Natasha marched over, the harsh click of her heel already indicating her mood. Well, she was your employee and you’d pay her for her troubles. “Do you have your keys on you?”

“What’s wrong with the limo?”

“It’s blocked in. There’s no room for Clint to back out. The keys.” You held out your open hand to Natasha as she stood there with her hands on her hips, making no move to relinquish them.

“I don’t think you should drive,” Natasha remarked, “You’re a shit driver and you’re clearly over-excited.” On instinct, harsh words made their way to the end of your tongue but you stopped yourself. Natasha was your lawyer, sure, but she was also the closest thing you had to a friend. You knew she wouldn’t relent or pitch a fit if you snapped at her but she didn’t deserve it. And she was right. You are a shit driver.

“I need to get out of here, Nat,” you pleaded. Natasha pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, her eyebrows deeply furrowed. After a moment, she dropped the keys in your open hand.

“What am I supposed to do if Mr. Stark makes an appearance?”

“Tell him I had to take my dog to the vet,” You told her as you made your way into the driver's seat.

“You and I both know you don’t have a dog,” Natasha scoffed. “What is this really about?” She searched your eyes for a moment before the ends of her lips turned downward. “Oh, hon, is this about Wanda?” You shook your head as she leaned on the car door, her emerald eyes locked on yours.

“It was bound to happen sometime,” You huffed. Natasha made her way around the front of the car but you stopped her before she pulled open the door opposite to you. “Really, Nat, I’m not all that heartbroken. I just need time to think.”

“Alright,” She sighed. “Just don’t get in an accident.”

You gave her a small salute before you pulled out of the driveway, having no idea where you were going.

Steve groaned as something fuzzy tickled his cheek, waking him for his restless nap. His eyes opened to a view of pure white and for a moment he considered the idea that maybe he was dead. That was until the white figure turned to reveal icy blue eyes and a perfectly pink sandpaper tongue.

“Buck!” Steve called, bursting out of his room with the ivory cat in toe.

“Yeah,” Bucky answered with a mouth full of pizza.

“What the hell is this?” The cat jumped up onto Bucky’s lap, unconcerned.

“It’s a cat, Steve.”

“I know it’s a-” Steve cut himself off with another groan. “I can see that it's a cat, Buck, but don’t you think this is something you discuss as roommates? There’s barely enough room in here for the both of us.” He made an attempt to rub away the tension gathering on his forehead as Bucky held up the cat to his face, feigning a lost puppy sort of look. Steve sighed, defeated. “I don’t want this place smelling like cat piss and I’m not cleaning its litter box.”

Steve couldn’t miss the shit-eating grin on his roommates face as he turned to go get ready. He still wasn’t used to this; sleeping during the day and working at night. When he was still living with his parents he had spent most of his time in bed, just not for the reasons he did now. That was another thing he couldn’t get used to. Growing up, he was sickly and weak; there wasn’t much to him besides skin and bone. Since Bucky had got him on his feet though, he had taken to working out, eating better when he could. Although, now neither of them were eating much at all. Dollar slices down at Loki’s was mostly what constituted a meal nowadays.

Steve stood in the mirror taking in his look. It wasn’t subtle by any means and his wig didn’t fit quite right but Bucky had said brunettes were in right now. No, this wasn’t Steve’s idea of a career, or a life for that matter, but for now, he was getting by.

Shoving aside one of the ceiling tiles, Steve reached his hand around, searching for the shoebox that he and Bucky kept their earnings in. It wasn’t much of a safe but it did the job. He checked the box nightly, trying to do the math on what he needed to charge for the night, how many customers he would need. Pushing off the top of the box, Steve found only a couple crumpled five dollar bills where there was once a couple hundreds. For the second time that night, Steve burst into the kitchen.

“What the hell is this?” Steve cried, “And for the love of God, don’t tell me it’s twenty bucks!” The cat jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice, hissing as it slunk away.

“Look, I found Alpine on the street and she needed-”

“Alpine?” Steve could feel the heat rising in his face. “You spent our rent money on a cat?”

“I know this seems bad but-”

“Bad? Buck, we’re going to end up on the streets!” Steve slumped over in what served as both a couch and Bucky’s bed, his head in his hands. “Don’t you know how many nights we’d have to work to get that back?”

“Look,” Bucky began, “I’ll work all night and I won’t have any of ‘em pay less than $100.” Steve pulled a pillow over his head. “I promise I’ll earn it back. I just couldn’t leave her out there, Steve.”

It was going to be a long night.

“Shit!”

Another car blared its horn as you turned too early or too late or, you really had no clue but it wasn’t right. You’d been driving for who knows how long to who knows where. You just wanted to get back to your hotel, back to your penthouse but no one had taken kindly to your requests for directions. It was only fair, you supposed, you did look a bit too uppity for the area.

It wasn’t much longer before you found yourself on Hollywood Boulevard, right along the Walk of Fame, which seemed popular though with a different type of crowd at least at this hour. You weren’t an idiot. You knew it wasn’t safe to be in such a spot at night, especially not with you in your cocktail dress and showy car but you had no idea how to get back to the hotel. At least if you were held at gunpoint or something there’d be someone around to see.

You ruffled through the papers in the glove compartment, hoping to find the address for the hotel written on something. Maybe it was time you started making your own bookings rather than handing them off to your secretary.

Something in your rearview mirror caught your attention and you turned to see two men arguing over something. Both were tall and, from what you could see, well built. The more you thought about it, the more you realized you really could see a lot of them. You weren’t sure exactly what their getups were supposed to communicate but whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t subtle. You couldn’t make a clear read on whether or not it was worth asking them for directions so you went with not, turning back to call Natasha to give you the name of the hotel. It would be hard to admit to being so helpless but it was better than staying where you were.

Your phone was already pressed to your ear when there was a knocking sound at the passenger-side window. With a shaky hand, you rolled down the window.

“Hey, sugar, you looking for a date?” The words blew through the window with little to no conviction and your view consisted only of abs framed by a barely buttoned white shirt and the hard outline of the man's package clad in blue spandex. If someone was going to hit on you, the least they could do was feign confidence.

“Uh, no actually. I’m just looking for directions.” A face leaned into view. A very nice face for that matter but it was of little concern to you. You were most distracted by the mop of dark brown locks on the man’s head which couldn’t be natural by any means. He stared at you with his big blue eyes and that image of a goldfish returned to the front of your mind. You needed to get out of here.

Clearing your throat, you spoke again. “Can you give me directions to Beverly Hills or not, sugar?”

“Sure, for five bucks.” This time it was you who sat with your mouth agape. The man narrowed his eyes at you, watching your response. All the confidence that was missing from his words before was there but his face told another story. He looked as though he might crumble with enough pressure.

“Excuse me?”

“Now it's ten.”

“I’m not paying you for directions,” You scoffed. There was a glint in his eye that you could’ve sworn wasn’t there before.

“Hey, I’m not the one who’s lost.” He put his hands up in mock surrender but he didn’t walk away. No, he turned away, leaning against the car or more like leaning his ass up against the window. His pants were as tight as his shirt was loose and it didn’t leave much to the imagination. Sharp words were again at the tip of your tongue but, for the second time that day, you thought better of it. He had a point.

“Do you have change for a twenty?” You sighed, unlocking the door so he could join you.

“For twenty, I’ll be your personal tour guide,” he replied, snatching the bill from your hand before you could protest. You didn’t quite understand how someone could be so cocky and sheepish at the same time. He found a way to get what he wanted but he still looked at you as though he would hand the money right back if you raised your voice. “Start down the street and to the right.” He reached his arm over by the steering wheel but you flinched away in disgust which in turn caused him to jump back. “Uh, your headlights are off, miss.”

“Oh.” You straightened yourself out and turned the switch yourself. Miss. You couldn’t say you didn’t like that. All you heard all day was ‘yes, ma’am,’ ‘no, ma’am,’ ‘right away, ma’am.’ You were in charge, yes, but you were surely too young for that title.

The stranger on your right sat with his hands neatly in his lap. Despite the fact that he was up twenty bucks, he looked like a child in time out and you couldn’t help but notice the way he eyed like you might spring on him any minute.

“This is a nice ride,” He hummed, leaning back just a little.

“A bit too fast for me,” You replied, the blare of other driver’s grievances still echoing in your ears.

“Not yours?”

“Definitely not.” You were high class but goodness, you weren’t this gaudy. Natasha made the car look like it was built just for her; you looked out of place.

“You stole it?” the man questioned, a single eyebrow raised.

“No!” Were you sitting next to a petty criminal? He made it sound so casual. “What’s your name?” The way the words left your mouth it sounded more like an accusation than small talk.

“What do you want it to be?” A scoff left your mouth as you shook your head.

“Just tell me it’s not Wanda.” You were joking but he looked at you with such a sincere sadness that you felt a bit of shame pang in your chest. He didn’t even know you but he took pity on you. “Seriously, your name?

“Steve. Where are you staying again?” You told him the name of your hotel and he pointed to your right. He flinched as a piercing noise came from behind you. You raised your middle finger into the rearview, hoping the other driver could get a clear view. “You didn’t signal.”

“Huh?”

“Do you know how to drive, miss?” Your first instinct was to be offended and you would’ve given him a shove if he was anyone you knew, well, if he was Natasha, but he asked so genuinely it pulled the truth right out of you.

“Barely,” you admitted. “I pay people to drive me now. I’m out of practice and I wasn’t very good to begin with.”

“Do you want me to take over?” It wouldn’t be smart to let a man you picked up off the street get into your drivers seat. If your mother taught you anything, it was stranger danger. He could drive off anywhere. But your feet were killing you and so was that damn shoulder again. He seemed to be following your money after all so why leave now when he could possibly earn a tip? And above it all, you just couldn’t help but be disarmed by him. Besides his strange attire and questionable hair, you couldn’t help but notice his big blue eyes and crooked smile. Somehow, he looked as though he thought you might kill him but at the same time looked at you like you might be the best thing he’s seen all day.

“Will it cost me?” You sighed. He shook his head and flashed you that million-watt smile and you knew that you would pay for it, one way or another.

You got out and switched sides with him. For the brief moment that you met him face to face, you could see now that he was much taller than you. Even your heels wouldn’t have stood a chance against his height.

He sunk into the driver’s seat like he’d done it a million times before and you buried your head in your hands. What the hell were you doing?

“I’m sorry for your loss, miss”

“Wha-” You looked down at your black dress and thought of the makeup you applied earlier. Did you really look that dreary?

Not bothering to answer, you turned away towards the window. There was still a chance he was taking you wherever he wanted, though with your sense of direction you’d be none the wiser. You rubbed at your sore shoulder absentmindedly until something warm and a bit rough against the bare skin of your thigh captured your attention.

“Excuse me,” You huffed, gingerly removing Steve’s large hand away from your leg. He shot you a sideways glance and a conspiratory smile. A heat rose in your chest and you glared at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You haven’t exactly been forward about what you want,” Steve sighed with a slight shake of his head.

“Well, I definitely don’t want you to touch me!” Again his eyes narrowed in your direction. He searched your face incredulously.

“Miss, you picked me up.”

“Yeah, for directions not for-” Oh. “Wait, you’re-, I didn’t mean-” You buried your head in your hands, heat rising from your neck to your cheeks. The girls on the streets you had driven down with their thick makeup and short skirts hadn’t been lost on you. You knew what they were looking for but you, naively, had never considered that the men on those street corners might be looking for the exact same thing.

“I’ll just take my twenty and find a cab,” Steve chuckled, putting the car in park and stepping out. Finally, you were just a few stories away from your bed and maybe even a warm bath. You grabbed your briefcase from the backseat of the car as the doorman greeted you by name. Your relief was just through the doorway but you couldn’t help yourself. You turned back in Steve’s direction as he sat on the nearby bench, back hunched over and elbows leaning on his knees. He looked like a stray, that was for sure. You always did have a soft spot for the scrappy ones.

“So, what is your, uh, rate?” You croaked, cringing at the shake in your voice.

“I won’t take less than a hundred.”

“A night?” Manageable.

“An hour,” Steve smirked, his words slithering out.

“An hour?” Trouble.

“I can, uh, do a lot in an hour.” You huffed out a laugh. There it was again. Those suggestive words and yet none of the confidence behind them.

“Ok,” you groaned, “How much for the night?” He shook his head at you again with that little chuckle. You wanted nothing more than to put him in his place but he had driven you all this way and you had no idea how far you had displaced him. There was no way to know if he even lived close to the corner you picked him up from. You couldn’t leave him there.

“How about three hundred?” He lilted, that smile plastered on his face.

“‘How about three hundred’ or three hundred?” You tapped a manicured fingernail impatiently on the wood of the bench.

“Three hundred!” You were already walking by the time he burst off the bench and you knew he would follow like the strays always did. Before long, he got close and snaked an arm around your waist. You slapped it away, making sure he got the message. What you were doing was already too inappropriate for your taste and you weren’t planning on letting the whole hotel know what you were up to. You didn’t even know what you were up to.

Steve’s eyes were wide as he took in the lobby in all its opulence. You had to practically drag him through the room just to get him to stay at your pace. He asked you your name as you stepped through the elevator doors and you told him, though not without a bit of prying from his side. The elevator attendant eyed the two of you suspiciously and it was too late to lie and say he was an old friend. He didn’t even know your name until a few minutes ago and you certainly didn’t often take up company that dressed like the man next to you.

“Penthouse,” the attendant chimed, smirking at you.

“Penthouse,” Steve repeated as though he had never heard the word before. You slide the key out of your bra. You had hoped to be sneaky but he was already laughing. Your cheeks went red. It’s not as if you thought anyone would be joining you tonight.

You sighed as you swung the double doors open, the plush carpet soft on your sore feet. Your mail and other documents Natasha had dropped off were piled on the front table and you grabbed them, leaving your key in their place, and went straight to your desk. Switching the lamp on, you poured over the papers as Steve took in the expanse of the room.

You were back to rubbing that spot on your shoulder as every paper in your stack was littered in Stark, Stark, Stark. Maybe you could recover if this deal went south but damnit, you wanted this one. The papers in your hands couldn’t keep your focus when a firmer hand replaced yours on your aching shoulder. You wanted to protest but you were already sighing deeply, your mind foggy as Steve worked on releasing the tension in your shoulder. You even shuddered when his thumb put pressure on a particularly hard to reach spot. In the desk mirror, you caught a glimpse of his face, a soft smile of contentment painted there.

“Let me guess…are you a lawyer?”

“Hm?” You hummed. “No, no. Not a lawyer.” Steve let out a small chuckle. You were long gone now and it was evident in your voice.

“Are you married?” That made you sit up. Steve’s hands went idle but they stayed on your shoulders. You glared at his reflection in the mirror.

“I am not…a cheater.”

“I’m not paid to judge.” Steve returned to his ministrations. “Speaking of getting paid…”

“Oh, right.” You cleared your throat. “Will cash do?” His big blue eyes were trained on your wallet as you leafed through.

“Uh, yeah, definitely.” You handed him the three bills. Even after finding his way to the penthouse, he still seemed surprised even to see those. He shoved them into his pants pocket and took a seat atop your desk. “So, now that you’ve got me here…what is it exactly that you plan to do?”

“First of all, those are important,” You gestured to your papers which were now being used as a cushion, “and second, I have no clue what to do with you.” He sat up abruptly as you swatted at his thigh. Gathering the papers, you sorted through them haphazardly before placing them in your briefcase. It wasn’t that you had planned to stop working but you needed something to make you look busy. The last thing you wanted was for him to see how nervous you were. You had no idea what to do with him but you couldn’t help but feel that you wanted to figure it out.

“Nat, I’ll have it back to you tomorrow. No, not a scratch on it. Now, the numbers on Stark Industries?”

Steve sat on the floor in front of the TV, wrappers from the minibar snacks piled around him. He looked like a little boy watching Saturday morning cartoons.

“Sorry, what was that?” You hummed to Natasha, smiling absentmindedly as Steve laughed at whatever was on the TV. The phone stayed tight between your shoulder and your ear as you reached from one of the snacks yourself. “Alright, I’ll check in on the London numbers later.”

“Babe, are you alright?” Natasha's voice crackled through the phone.

“Yeah, what makes you say that?”

“You just sound so…dare I say, content. Is someone there with you?”

“No,” You whispered sharply but Steve’s echoing laugh gave you away.

“You tramp!”

“Oh, sorry, gotta go, bye.” You pressed the end call button and tried to put the phone down softly, hoping to catch Steve in his own world a little longer. As you wrote down a few notes for yourself, the laughing continued but this time Steve looked over at you.

“I’ve never seen this one.” He gestured toward the TV, his crooked grin wide.

You moved from your chair to the couch, sighing as your back hit the plush cushion. It wasn’t long before you let your heavy eyelids close. It wasn’t much longer after that, when a prickling sensation against your calf had you opening your eyes once more. Steve had moved closer to you, leaning his head against your leg. You couldn’t help yourself and you reached out to run your fingers through his hair which, as you suspected, was crudely fake.

“What’s this?” He looked up at you with a soft smile and sleepy eyes. You gave a small tug to the wig.

“Oh,” he murmured, “well, Bu-, my friend says that women prefer brunettes.” You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his concerned face. “Do you?” He asked, bolder, as he placed a hand on your knee.

“No,” You whispered, tugging the wig off and tossing it aside. His blonde locks were messy and stiff in some places but they suited him much better. With a gentle hand, you fixed his hair as best as you could, losing yourself in the softness of it. You sighed as he leaned down and pressed a whisper soft kiss to the side of your ankle before he started a trail of kisses up to your knee, each more passionate than the last. When he was satisfied, he switched to your other leg, following the same route. You kept your hand in his hair as his warm hands grasped your thighs, pulling them apart.

“What is that you, ah, do?” You panted.

“Anything,” He pressed an open mouth kiss to one thigh, “Everything,” then to the other. “I just don’t kiss on the mouth.”

You nodded, unable to form words as he kissed anywhere and everywhere else.

The warm water ran down your body like silk, making the rest of your body feel as achingly good as your lower half. You had to remind yourself, several times before, during and after, that he wasn’t yours. Certainly you could pay him for another day, another night but you knew it’d lose its charm after a while with your money acting as a wall between you. You were fully aware that you paid him last night, of course, but the spontaneity of it all had made it feel far more organic. You knew better than to ruin a good thing by dragging it on. It would be far better to cut the stray loose now rather than let him leave you when your table scraps ran out.

As you dried your hair, the phone began to ring in the other room.

“Stark wants to meet with you, in-person.”

“Well, good morning to you too,” You huffed.

“I wouldn’t do it,” Natasha warned.

“Yeah, uh-huh,” the doorbell rang and you ran to grab it as Natasha continued. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ and signed for the room service at the door. As you wheeled in the foodcart, the phone went silent, stopping you in your tracks

“Are you listening to me? He wants to meet with you face-to-face.”

“Yes. Tonight. Dinner. Set it up.” You took a seat at the dining table and rubbed the tension out of your forehead with an open palm.

“That’s not a good idea, especially if you plan on going alone. I love you, but you’re not exactly a charmer. With Wanda at your side the playing field was evened but now that that’s not an option, I strongly, strongly, recommend that you do not go in alone.”

“I won’t go in alone. I’ll take care of it, Nat,” You replied, taking a bite out of a piece of toast. There wasn’t exactly an array of eligible bachelors at your disposal but Natasha was right yet again. Without someone more personable by your side, it was likely you’d tank the deal. Stark Industries was a family affair after all and it was more than just input and output to Howard, especially with the company providing for his son, Tony.

“I can’t believe you picked someone up last night! Wanda’s boxes are probably barely out the door of your apartment. You think whoever this is is good enough to bring to this, need I remind you, very important business dinner? You barely even like people! How good in bed does this-”

“Okay, bye bye now.” You hung up the phone cursing to yourself.

“Hi.”

“Oh, good morning,” you croaked, clearing your throat.

“I can see that you’re busy so I’ll just let myself out,” Steve offered with a sheepish smile. Tufts on his blonde hair were pointing this way and that from the combination of sleep and well, you.

“No!” you called out. “I mean, at least help yourself to breakfast before you go.” His smile only grew as he grabbed a pancake in his hands and started eating it. You wanted to laugh but you tried to stay as formal as you could. “Did you sleep well?”

“Oh, yeah,” He got out between bites of pancake, “like a baby. You?”

“Yes, well. Thank you.” You picked up the closest document to you, pretending to read it just to hide the blush that you could feel growing on your skin.

“You never did tell me what you do,” Steve noted, grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl. Something smart dashed to the tip of your tongue. Something along the lines of he was too busy telling, no, showing, what it is he does.

“I buy companies,” You replied, shuffling through more of your papers.

“Companies? What kind of companies?”

“The ones that are struggling,” You explained, “financially speaking.”

“And buying companies is stressful work?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re pretty tense,” Steve chuckled before taking a bite of his apple. You scoffed, wanting to defend yourself but he had a point. Instead, you continued eating your previously neglected toast. “Did I offend you?” He looked at you with those big blue eyes and you wanted to tell him that you were starting to think he couldn’t ever offend you, not anymore but you just shook your head.

“I have to get ready.” Steve nodded and sighed, his mouth turning downward. You felt the clench of your heart in your chest as you hoped that he was disappointed to see you go. “Take your time though,” you added, turning to leave.

“Do you mind if I take a dip in the tub before I go?” You were glad that he couldn’t see your face as you bit your lip so hard you almost drew blood.

“Go right ahead.” You were through the bedroom doors before he could say anything else.

Trying not to think of the man in the other room, you took your time getting dressed, picking out a pantsuit to get you through the day. You had reached for a black one but thought better of it, going for a navy instead. When you were dressed, you flopped down onto the bed, checking your phone for any updates but there was only one message.

‘Do you have a date or not?’

You were going to pay for this and in more ways than one.

Before you had the chance to change your mind, you sent back a simple ‘Yes.’

“Steve!” You called from your open door, “I have a business proposition for you.”

77 notes · View notes