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sehnsuchts-trunken · 8 months

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Rooster At 5, Bradley At Night

Bradley Bradshaw x Penny’s niece!reader 10k words (.....yes. 10k. i know)

summary: You've been hooking up with Bradley for three weeks now. You're also hooking up with him tonight.

a/n: this is pure smut. honestly pure smut. 18+ i will now list all the things that you have to look out for. first and foremost i have NEVER written smut before dont kill me pls im trying my best. ok so

name kink, rank kink, choking, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyve had the conversation nothing bad will happen), oral sex!fem receiving, dom bradley, some "good girl" because i am a sucker for that, in general a lot of talking because bradley is A TALKER!!!!!!, a little strength kink? is that a thing? and a shit ton of begging

this can be read as a stand-alone most definitely, but is set in the same universe as "Tuesday Night" and “Not A Coincidence” and "Take Me On A Joyride" so maybe give those a read too?

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You were behind the bar this evening, a rag in your hands as you wiped down the sticky wooden top for the bazillionth time and hummed along to the music coming from the jukebox. You were behind the bar most evenings, pouring beer and rum and whiskey and mixing cocktails (occasionally taking some sips of your own), smiling and laughing and flirting with customers left and right.

For the past few months now, the most regular of those costumers had been the Dagger squad.

They'd shown up here one random evening and hadn't left since. And it didn't seem like any of them would any time soon.

Not that you wanted them to, oh no. You had grown so close in so little time that it was scary at this point.

"Settle a bet for us, Junior."

Jake slid up to the bar as if it was second nature, putting an empty bottle of beer in front of him and resting one elbow next to it. You looked up at him and smiled, threw your rag over your shoulder and grabbed the bottle, condensation dripping down onto your fingertips. Rooster came up right behind him and your smile deepened even further.

"Hit me, Bagman", you challenged, set two full bottles on the bar top and then rested your forearms against the edge.

Jake grinned at you as he raised his beer in a toast.

"If you had to get with one of us tonight, who'd you get with?"

You didn't even flinch.

"Bradshaw", you said, quick like a shot, and watched Jake's face fall like he'd expected a different answer with just a tiny bit of amusement. You glanced at Rooster, who had already been looking at you, and whose only reaction to the fact that you were literally talking about sleeping with him was a small quirk of his lips.

"Bradshaw? Are you kidding? You- I'll give you a second to think about it, Junior. Don't you wanna think about it for a second?", Jake asked, regaining his facade, letting a tinge of his accent slip as he leaned in and winked at you. "You know, actually think about it. Imagine it. Picture it. Visualise it."

You decided to give him the satisfaction. So you pushed back from the bar top, crossed your arms, raised your eyebrows and eyed the two of them up and down - just because you could, just for the fun of it. Jake was in his usual jeans and shirt, leaning in with a self-assured grin and his hand wrapped around his beer bottle. Bradley was wearing one of those Hawaiian shirts that fit snugly on his bicep, his sunglasses tucked into the collar of the white top underneath, hair on the practically perfect side of unruly and his eyes fixed on yours so intensely that you had to bite down on your tongue for a moment there.

You counted to five.

"Bradshaw", you said again, dropped your arms and grabbed the rag from your shoulder. Jake's lips parted and a betrayed sort of gasp left his mouth before he started complaining - you shook your head and stepped over to the next customer and only allowed yourself to grin when you'd turned away, out of his sight.

You wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

You still didn't know whether to be surprised at this "bet" the both of them had made. You were pretty sure anyway that Jake had been the driving force in that. You knew the two of them well enough by now to not only be aware of their.... you could only call it a rivalry, really, but also of Jake's weird, warped sense of mischief. Maybe he had some narcissism problem or maybe some old trauma response. Who cared? Not you. It made for entertainment every night you were behind the bar. And also every night you were in front of the bar, drinking and dancing with the squad. You loved him, you really did. But definitely not enough to not put a stop to his ego whenever you could.

And if that way was by flaunting how very platonically you felt about him (because he was a self-named womanizer and couldn't understand how anyone could possibly not be attracted to him), you would.

...

It was 2am when Penny told you to pack your things and go. Most of the bar was empty already, except for three or four small groups of people, but those she could manage alone. Usually, maybe, you'd have declined, but tonight....

Well.

Jake had found someone to hook up with after his earlier disappointment and the rest of the squad had left at some point during the last hour too - the rest of the squad except for a particular pornstache guy.

Rooster had said goodbye to Fanboy and Payback ten minutes ago, had assured them he didn't need a ride home, he'd order another drink and then take an uber, had sat down on a bar stool, nursed his beer and watched you clean up and then pack your things. You'd sneaked glances at him now and then, so you knew that he'd watched you.

When you stepped out from behind the bar, he sat up and followed you out of the Hard Deck wordlessly. Armed with a purse, fumbling for your car keys, fighting down the smile on your lips and the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, you took a second outside to close your eyes and breathe in the mild evening air.

Then two arms sneaked around your waist. You let out a sigh as warm breath hit your neck.

"So you'd rather get with me than Bagman, hm, Junior?"

You chuckled, pushing back a little, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to relax for the first time tonight.

"I think you know very well that I'd rather get with you than Bagman, Rooster", you muttered, running your hands up his, up his arms, up naked skin until you could slide your fingertips underneath his shirt, up his shoulders... "I'd rather get with you than anyone."

He pressed a kiss right below your earlobe, bit down softly on the same patch of skin, soothed it again with a kiss.

"Oh, I know", he laughed quietly into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You settled even further into his arms. "I'd rather get with you than Bagman, too."

You had to laugh as well - the image of Hangman and Rooster was truly funny. But it was difficult to keep laughing when Bradley pressed more and more kisses to your neck, trailing a line of them down to the hemline of your shirt, nuzzling his nose in there when he couldn't go further. You tilted your head back a little to rest it against his shoulder, a pleasant flush rising up within - a comfortable warmth, the knowledge that you were safe, secure, protected. The way he always made you feel.

"Just to be clear - I do get to get with you tonight, right?", you asked, a grin on your lips because you knew the answer very, very well. Rooster chuckled into your ear and let out a hum.

"What do you think?", he muttered, one last, open-mouthed kiss pressed against your skin before he pulled away, pulled at your hand to twirl you around, pulled a squeal from your lips, one that conjured a smile on his face every time. "Take me home?"

...

The ride home was silent except for the radio in the background, but you were pretty much tuning that out. The steering wheel was sturdy in your hands, the night lights bright and blinding and your concentration on the streets and the car was waning ever so slowly, ever so steadily because Rooster's hand was slowly, steadily inching up your thigh. He'd put it innocently just above your knee when you'd strapped yourself in, his thumb sweeping in circles over the fabric of your jeans, but by now he'd brushed so far up that you were finding it hard to direct your thoughts back to driving.

Luckily, the drive back home only took ten minutes.

You weren't sure you'd have survived even a second more. He squeezed your thigh one last time as you turned the ignition off, then unbuckled his seat belt, opened his door and got out and you were left alone in pure silence for exactly two seconds. You took a deep breath in and out. One day, and you knew that, Bradley would be the death of you. He could get you all riled up with so very little that you felt like you were going mad sometimes. In a very good way, of course.

And just as you were lamenting on the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, on the images your brain conjured whenever you were close to him, whenever you were touching him, whenever-

"Madam", Rooster smiled, leaning one arm on the opened car door and reaching the other hand out for you to take. "Would you do me the honours?"

You could only shake your head and grin at him, giddiness making you squirm in your seat as you pulled your hands away from the steering wheel and put one of them in his.

"I could never deny you any of your wishes, kind sir", you said, allowing him to pull you out of the car and into his arms instead. He hugged you close, tilted his head down to nuzzle your nose with his - you had to put your head back to be able to look into his eyes when you stood this close in front of him, nevermind kissing him.

"Really?", he smiled, his fingertips dancing along your side, hooking into your belt loops, pulling your hips flush to his. You grabbed at his biceps to steady yourself. Or maybe just because you could. "Any of my wishes?"

You let out a sort of agreeable hum and grinned up at him.

"Whatever you want", you nodded.

It was the truth, simple and just. You'd do anything. You'd let him do anything. You trusted him like you'd never trusted anyone before and up until now, you'd only ever been rewarded for putting that kind of trust in him. Something about this felt right. Something about him felt right.

"What if I wanted to spend the rest of the night between your legs?", he muttered, eyes flicking down to your lips as your breath hitched.

"Well", you whispered, because whispering was the only thing you still knew how to do. "As I said, I won't deny you anything."

His eyes met yours and his lip quirked up and then, before you could do anything more, he'd dropped down, wrapped an arm around your legs and hauled you up. You let out a gasp and crossed your arms behind his neck in reflex, a soft, shocked "Rooster!" falling from your lips. Bradley only chuckled, closed the car door with his hip and started carrying you to your front door with seemingly no problem whatsoever.

Gods. Sometimes you forgot just how strong he really was.

But then, in moments like these, he picked you up and threw you onto your bed or pushed you up against a wall and you remembered. And you felt that sting in your stomach that had you press your legs together every time.

Now you didn't even have to remember. Now you were dangling safely from his arms, your hands linked behind his neck, your fingertips buried in his hair, your eyes wide as you watched him, as you tried to steady your irregular breathing because shit, this was happening. This was happening like it had been happening for over three weeks now.

He sat you down carefully in front of the door, but you were in such a trance that you needed to take a moment (or two or three) to stare at him, at this man, this fairytale prince, this god. Your man, your fairytale prince, your god.

"You need to unlock the door, honey", he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and turning you so you were facing the door, his chest pressed to your back, his breath fanning the exposed skin of your neck and right, right, right, the door! The door. The lock. The key. The key in your purse! That key. The key for your door. Right. Key, key, key.... Where the hell was that goddamn key? You were sure it was somewhere there in your purse. You'd put it in there like you always put it in there. Key, Key, Rooster, Rooster's arms around you, Rooster's hands brushing over your skin, Rooster's breath on your ear, Rooster between your legs, Rooster- Key! Key, key, key---

There.

At the very bottom of your purse, finally! There it was. You pulled it out with an almost triumphant sound, unlocked your door to Rooster's soft laughter behind you and stumbled into the dark hallway in a half-intoxicated way that shouldn't have been possible because you hadn't drunk anything tonight.

You threw your purse to the side and switched on the light and turned to Rooster just in time for him to have closed the door behind him and reached for you, his hands on your hips - so big, splayed so wide, his fingers so long - crowding you against the wall, his breath fanning over your mouth and then, finally, his lips on yours.

For the first time today, you were kissing him. He was so wide, so tall, so huge, everywhere all around you, his arms, his hands, his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his chin and his cheeks and his lips and his hair. Your hands sunk into that hair, tugging at the roots and grabbing his head as though your life depended on it, depended on keeping him safely, steadily right on front of you, right here, pushing you against the wall and leaving you practically no room to breathe, to touch, to feel anything other than him.

You wanted him.

With every fibre of your body, your soul, every particle, every cell, you wanted him. You wanted him everywhere all at once and you wanted him now.

So you bit down on his lip and allowed his tongue in and brushed your hands down his shoulders, down his chest to pull off that god-awful Hawaiian shirt that you admittedly found very attractive, but that was so incredibly, annoyingly in the way right now. You tugged it off his chest and down his arms and didn't care when it fell to the floor - that was where it should be, that was where it belonged.

You reached for the top then, for his waist to brush your fingertips below its hem, pushed it up, up, up until you could feel bare skin, washboard abs against your palms. That satisfied you for a moment - for a moment of running your fingers along the sharp edges of his stomach, for a moment of feeling his body heat, for a moment of being closer.

Luckily, Rooster had always been quite in-tune with you. He noticed the very second that your satisfaction turned to impatience, that your roaming, wandering hands weren't exploring, weren't enjoying anymore but were searching, longing for more - for more skin to touch, more, more, more.

He pulled away from your lips to get rid of his top, leaving you a panting, wide-eyed mess and by god, he'd only just gotten started. He hadn't even touched you. How were you already so wound up?

You blamed the fact that you'd had to stare at him from a distance for the past five days (you'd had late night shifts, he'd had early training days) and decided not to think about it further.

Especially not as his top joined his shirt on the floor, as he looked up at you with red smudged on his chin, kiss-swollen lips and unruly hair. His chest was heaving, his breath coming shorter than usual and his pupils had grown so dark you had to swallow hard.

Without thinking, you reached out and tried to wipe your lipstick off his skin.

That made him grin a little.

"Rooster?", you muttered, looking him right in the eyes. He let out a hum as he stared, a bit lost in thought it seemed and still quite shamelessly, only further at your lips. "Either take me to the bedroom or take a step back so I can get on my knees."

He let out a chuckle then and met your eyes, digging his fingers through your belt loops and pulling you a few inches away from the wall.

"I think you may have forgot something, honey", he said. "What about that wish I made?"

You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to let your imagination run wild.

Rooster only grinned, and it seemed that your expression showed him just how much you didn't mind his wish at all, because he reached around you, grabbed the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, so effortlessly that it made you blush a little. You didn't even have to hold onto him, only had to wrap your legs loosely around his hips as he carried you through the hallway and into the bedroom.

That allowed you to focus all of your attention on pressing your lips to his skin.

He was warm. So warm. You trailed your lips all over his jaw, his throat, his shoulders, his bicep, and then, when you couldn't go any further down, Rooster had already found the light switch in your room and was dropping you onto your bed, pulling a surprised gasp from you.

The mattress was soft and bouncy as you landed on it, heat in your cheeks and your throat tightening at the sight in front of you - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw standing at the foot of of your bed, half-naked, sweaty, breathing heavy and looking down at you like he was a predator and you were his prey, like he wanted to devour you whole.

Which he did.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows at the same time that he advanced - pounding on you, almost, with a grin on his lips that set ablaze the slumbering flame in your abdomen. You didn't know which one of you got rid of your shirt, only that a few seconds later his lips were on yours, his hands reaching for your bra clasp and your shirt discarded somewhere on your floor.

You breathed hard against his mouth as his fingertips brushed along your back, along your bra, then slowly slid it off your shoulders, down your arms...

Cold air hit your breasts just as Rooster pulled away from you to fling your bra away to join your shirt on the floor, leaving you cold and panting, your eyes closing and opening again and staring at him as he stared at you, as he admired you, all bare, soft skin right there, right in front of him, just for him and nobody else.

You felt his palms against your ribcage then, pushing you down onto your back, onto the mattress, your breath hitching and your eyes closing in anticipation. He dropped a kiss onto your collarbone. Another just above your cleavage. Another onto the top of your breasts. His thumbs brushed right below them.

You wanted more. You always wanted more. You needed more.

But he was just trailing kisses along your breasts, never lingering for long enough, never biting or sucking or licking and as much as you were enjoying this... You needed more.

"Rooster", you sighed, dragging your hands through his hair because you needed more. He hummed against your skin. You could feel the vibration all over. "Roos, please."

He grinned - against your skin at first, before he looked up and right at you. "What was that?"

You bit down on your lip. God damn him. He always did this. Every single time, he did this. And the worst part was: You didn't even mind. You didn't mind begging, you didn't mind pleading, you didn't mind doing so much of it that you couldn't do, couldn't say anything else anymore. So you did just that.

"Please", you repeated, a little breathlessly. Rooster's grin widened.

And then he pulled away completely.

You could have screamed. You honestly thought, just for a second, that he would leave you lying there - panting and begging for him, with a bare chest and arousal heating up every part of you. But of course not. Of course not. This was Bradley fucking Bradshaw. He didn't leave you unsatisfied.

No.

Rooster got up from the bed only to grab you by the waist, to pull you down to the edge and kneel down on the floor. You swallowed hard. He fiddled with your shoes first, loosening the laces and taking them off, tugging down your socks and your pants and oh dear lord, you couldn't concentrate on anything he was doing.

He was kneeling in front of your bed. You bit back a moan from that alone.

Any and all forms of Bradley Bradshaw were jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but to you, nothing would ever top the sight of him on his knees for you.

You tuned back in when your jeans thumped to the floor, when his fingertips danced softly, teasingly up your calves, up your knees, up your thighs. You clenched your jaw when he reached your underwear, when his eyes met yours again in one final reassurance that this was what the both of you wanted, and then he pulled it down your legs too and hooked his hands behind your thighs.

Your eyes fluttered shut. You took a deep breath - one, two, one, two.

One, two.

You frowned and blinked open your eyes again.

Rooster was staring at you, blatantly staring at you with a knowing smirk plastered on his lips and his fingers digging into your hips, sure to hold you in place, not allowing you to push even an inch closer to him.

"Roos", you whined, for what already felt like the dozenth time tonight, your hand sinking into his hair, splaying out, tugging at the strands, trying your hardest to pull him in. He didn't move.

"Yes?", he asked, with that grin just deepening, telling you he knew exactly what he was doing.

Of course he did. Of course he'd make you- God, of course, of course, of course! It had been his idea. It had been his plan, his wish, his goddamn idea and now he was making you-

"Fuck", you grumbled, teeth digging into your bottom lip. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to do this because he hadn't even had you lying here for five minutes and he already wanted you to do this. "Roos, just-"

He bit down softly on the skin of your thigh then, pulling a surprised gasp from you, leaving your sentence hanging half-finished in mid air. You had to tilt your head back, had to throw a hand over your face because gods, you couldn't look at him now! Not with his breath meeting your thigh, with the feeling of his moustache against your skin, not with that grin on his lips. If you did, you'd melt in less than a heartbeat. You weren't about to give in that easily.

At least that was what you told yourself. You repeated it in your head like a mantra - he had barely touched you, he was the one who'd wished for this, you wouldn't... you weren't... you hadn't...

Fuck!

"C'mon honey", he encouraged, pressing a kiss high up on your thigh. You let out a shaky breath. He was close, so close now and he had you wound so tightly, so incredibly tightly that you felt like you were burning up from inside and-

"Bradley", you gave in, the word falling, tumbling from your lips in almost a moan. "Please, Bradley, please."

He was on you in a heartbeat. Licking a stripe up your slit, tongue flattened and you cried out, digging your fingers deeper into his hair, pulling, pushing, back arching off the bed as he finally, finally gave you what you wanted, what you needed. He dove in like a starved man, licking, pushing, tasting you, devoured and ravaged you, took everything and gave everything at the same time.

Bradley was a god. You'd never had a man eat you out like this until you met him.

His hands pressing against your hips to hold you down, to keep you right there for him, not letting you move an inch from him, only letting you push impossibly closer, your mind, your body screaming more. More, more, more. More of him. More from him. More him.

His tongue found your clit. You cried his name into the vast nothingness of your bedroom, eyes squeezing close and hand cramping into the sheets next to your head, thighs clamping around his head, caging him in, his palms forcing your back still on the mattress.

You could faintly make out your own moans, your own voice as his tongue circled, traced and dipped -

More.

He drew your clit into his mouth. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, send a shiver through your body, make your legs twitch.

Please.

He sunk his tongue into you, brushed your clit, up and down and everywhere.

Bradley.

You were coming close. Close, so close. Every inch of your skin was tensing in anticipation, clenching, clutching. You babbled something of the sort, not listening to yourself, not able to, not starting or stopping, controlling none of your words, none of the sounds falling from your lips. Bradley loosened one of his palms from your hips and immediately you were pushing, arching up, held down a heartbeat later as he pinned his arm down again, his tongue working you, not faltering once and-

pressure.

His thumb on your clit.

You screamed out his name.

Your nails dug into his scalp. Your heels clasped around his back. Every single nerve in your body was on fire. And Bradley didn't stop.

He worked you right through your high, circling his thumb on your clit and sinking his tongue into you, holding you down, holding you close until you were panting, gasping, your legs unclasping from his head, your fingers loosening in his hair, loosening from the bedsheets, your eyes fluttering open, meeting his and only then did he relent. He pulled back softly, stilling his thumb and pressing a kiss to your thigh, watching you as you slowly came back to reality, back to him.

You blinked once. Twice.

He pulled his thumb from you as he rose up from the floor, running his hands along your sides instead, along your ribs, your breasts, your throat, studying the irregular rise and fall of your chest, mapping out your body beneath his. You watched with parted lips as he brought both his hands steadily down next to your head, as he leaned down to meet you in a kiss - heavy and heady and intense and full of all the right emotions. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

But before you could do any more, press yourself up or pull him down, he was gone again, hot breath meeting your lips and that familiar smile crawling back up onto his face.

"Enjoying yourself?", he asked, tilting his head to the side a little, catching the light of the overhead lamp. Wetness glistened on his moustache. You bit down on your bottom lip, doing your hardest to conceal the smile that was fighting to get to the surface.

Instead, you let out an agreeable hum and brought your hand up to his stache to wipe at it, to wipe some of you off him and admittedly, you already knew that wouldn't do much - but the simple act of innocently cleaning him off like that, fingers brushing above his mouth, just caressing his skin, it made something in your stomach churn.

"How about you? Now that we've checked one wish off your list... Any more?", you muttered, trailing your fingers along his cheek, down his scars, following those lines of skin you knew so well, burning them into your mind, burning him into your mind. You'd never seen anyone as beautiful. You didn't think there was anyone as beautiful out there. Your breath hitched, fingertips catching on a birthmark, before you snapped your eyes back up to his. "Any more wishes at all, Bradley?"

A sort of grunt left him as you did your best not to grin - you knew just what buttons to push, didn't you?

"You know", he muttered, dropping his head, brushing his nose down the sensitive skin of your throat. "I could think of a few more things."

"Yeah?", you asked, just on the right side of breathless again, skin tingling wherever he decided to place a few deliberate, almost chaste kisses. "Like what?"

He'd worked his way down to your breasts again, still holding himself up with both his hands.

"I could fuck you nice and slow, just like you deserve it", he said softly, the words flowing from him as easily as if he were talking about breakfast the next day. Rational, sober, collected. You, on the other hand, could feel the wetness pooling in between your legs again. You couldn't believe how reasonable, how practical, how composed he could stay while he said things like that - how he'd fuck you, how he'd eat you out, how he'd pull every single thought from your mind with his fingers and his mouth and his cock.

"Or", he went on, completely unbothered still, stopping in between words to drop kisses onto your breasts. "I could fuck you hard and fast, because that's what you want, right?"

A moan tumbled from your lips all of its own accord, your eyes fluttering shut again. He was conjuring visuals in your mind that had you clenching your legs together, hands clawing their way back up into his hair - you needed something to keep you here and now, to keep you grounded.

"I'm right, honey, aren't I?", he muttered, obviously satisfied with himself. "You want me to fuck you rough, don't you?"

You were sure you'd crossed some border into heaven and just hadn't realised it. This man would truly be the death of you one day.

"Yes", you breathed, scratching at his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair. "Yes, please, Bradley."

You could feel his grin against your bare skin.

"You look so pretty begging for me, honey", he smiled, raising himself up and before you could complain much about it, before you could as much as open your eyes again, he was dropping a kiss to your lips, long and longing, parted lips pressed against each other, breathing each other in.

Then he pulled away from you completely and you did let a whine fall from your lips after all, raising yourself up onto your elbows to blindly follow after him as he straightened up and then bent down to pull off his shoes, his socks, to fumble with his belt - all in fucking slow motion apparently, that's how long it took, two hours just to take off his goddamn socks and you were just sitting there, staring, blinking, hazy mind clearing up the way it always had to after you'd been so close to him, watching, staring, watching, staring...

An eternity, it seemed, until you grew too impatient and decided to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.

You pushed yourself up, reached for his belt yourself, pulled it from its buckle, unhooked it, opened it finally, finally, finally! and blinked up at him again, all wide eyes and smudged lipstick and swollen lips and Bradley felt pretty sure he died a little just then - this had to be heaven, you had to be heaven. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and your tongue ran along your lips and he had to swallow hard.

His jeans fell to the floor, chased quickly by his boxer briefs and you took a deep breath as you looked at him, leaning forward, leaning in to reach for him-

He took both your hands in his and pushed you down on the mattress again, another of those pathetic whines dropping from your lips at being denied the feeling of him.

"Fuck, Roos, please", you begged, sounding pitiful to your own ears by now, pleading for something you knew he'd give to you anyway, just so goddamn impatient that you couldn't even help the words rolling off your tongue.

He let go of your hands, reached for your waist instead to pull you up, to tug you firmly farther up the mattress until he could follow after safely, until he could nudge your knees apart and trail a line of kisses up your shoulder, his hands finding their usual spot next to your head.

"What was that, honey?", he grinned against your skin, holding himself up above you to look you right in the eyes.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled a moan from yourself and a similar groan from him, squeezed your eyes shut and had immediately forgotten what it'd been you'd said before. What it'd been he was asking about.

He brought one hand down to your thigh, squeezing tight, holding you even tighter to him, and pressed his hips down into the mattress, pulling another moan from you and, again, a similar groan from himself, making sure that you couldn't move against him on your own, that you were completely at his mercy.

As always.

"Please", you whined, desperate now, trying to rock your hips against his and not succeeding, not succeeding because he was holding you still, holding you down, holding you helpless and defenseless, withholding the one goddamn thing you wanted from him right now. And after all that talk too! "Roos, please, Bradley, do something."

You were far from whining now, breathless and moaning and sobbing basically, hands clawing at his shoulders and nails digging into his skin, begging and pleading and he was just holding still, doing nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing and you wanted more, you wanted something, anything.

"Look at me", he panted then - the only sign at all that he was somehow affected by this as well. "Look at me, honey, open your eyes."

And what else were you supposed to do but follow that command, grant him that wish?

So you forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look at him.

A thin layer of sweat gleaned on his skin. His stare was fixed on you and you alone. And his pupils had dilated so far that his usually hazel eyes were practically black now. You sucked in an unsteady breath.

"Good girl", he praised and you were done for.

You could have come from that alone.

Those two words, breathed into the nothingness of the room, onto your lips, onto your naked skin, sent a shiver down your spine, down your back and your hips and your legs, a shiver so violent that it pulled a moan right with it, a string of them. You barely heard Bradley's groan above you before he pulled away just the slightest bit, pulled away to brush his hand down your side, down your chest, down your hips, between your bodies, to reach for himself and stroke his tip through the wetness between your legs, your back arching off the mattress, into him, into more of him and-

"Wait", you panted.

Bradley froze immediately. His expression shifted to worry in the span of half a second, furrowing his brows and pulling away from you.

"What's wrong?", he asked, still breathless. You closed your eyes and took a breath, tensing, forcing yourself to keep down on the mattress, even as cold settled on your skin now that he wasn't warming you up anymore - inches away from you again. Considerate idiot.

"Just-", you stopped, opened your eyes, looked right at him. "Do you think Jake suspects anything?"

Bradley kept still for a few seconds. A shallow breath and another, your chest rising and falling and you had a hard time thinking, even now that he was barely touching you anymore. You were wound tightly, and you'd been so close, and now...

"You're not seriously thinking about Jake right now", Bradley said, almost accusingly.

You had to admit, it was a bit strange - you were naked, panting, your legs wrapped around his hips, and still you were thinking about Jake, about the bet, about what you'd said hours ago at the bar. You hadn't even been thinking about it, really. It had just come to you, overwhelming you, and you... you had needed to get it out. Still, you did have to admit, it was absurd.

So you bit down on your lip to conceal a smile, a grin, trailed your hands to his hair to brush it behind his ears, almost innocently (but just almost).

"I'm sorry, I just...", you whispered, stroking your hands down his scalp. "We've kept this between us for three weeks now. I don't want to have ruined that."

Bradley shook his head at you, dropped it to his chin, his curls brushing your nose, your cheeks, and sighed onto the skin of your throat.

"You're unbelievable", he muttered, dropping a kiss between your breasts now that he knew you weren't uncomfortable or afraid or anything of the sort in the slightest. Your breath hitched again. You didn't want to talk about this. You wanted him inside you, wanted him to make good on his promise from before. But you knew you had to, because otherwise the thought wouldn't leave you alone, even though the coil in your stomach, the heat in your body screamed bloody murder at you for it.

He looked back up, raised his chin again to meet your eyes.

"Don't worry about Jake", he reassured, one hand starting to softly, just so very softly, brush up and down your side. You had to swallow. "He won't even remember tomorrow."

He dropped another kiss onto your skin, a little further down, that grin, that moustache against your ribs.

"And I'll make sure you won't remember either, pretty girl. Alright?"

You nodded so quickly you almost got a head rush, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, head tilting back just the slightest, your fingers digging into his hair as his lips trailed down your skin, the covers rustling as he settled further back, as his breath ghosted over your center again.

"Need to hear you say it, honey. Say it for me."

"Please", you babbled instantly, not even thinking, not even close, not when Bradley was giving you such easy instructions to follow. "Please, Roos, please."

You could feel him shake his head, obviously unsatisfied, breathing hard, hands travelling up and down your thighs and nothing more, leaving you in some state of being touched but not really being touched and you felt like going insane again.

"Try again, honey", he tutted, and you were already about to plead, to beg even more when he went on - "Look at me, baby, look at me and try again."

You blinked open your eyes, tilted your head down to look at him, all pretty and wide-eyed, just like he'd asked, your fingers cramping in his hair.

"Please, Roos-"

He raised his eyebrows and you knew then, you knew where your mistake had been - you should've known before, you should've-

"Bradley", you moaned. "Please, Bradley, I want you. I need you."

He grinned at that, dropped a kiss to your thigh before flattening his tongue against your folds again, drawing another moan from you. Your eyes stayed fixed on his, but only because you knew he wanted you to, only because you knew he needed you to. His palms splayed out against the backs of your thighs, keeping them still, as always.

His tongue drew a circle on your clit and you arched off the bed, into him, a whine tumbling from your lips, followed by his name. He pulled back much too quickly, much too easily, with a much too satisfied grin on his lips, looking up at you for just a second before he leaned down to drop a kiss to your hip.

"Bradley", you complained, cut off by your own moan when you felt his fingers trail through your wetness instead of his tongue, all soft and slow and you rocked your hips against his hand - more friction, more touch, more, more, more.

You hadn't been kidding when you'd said that you wanted him. That you needed him.

Bradley chuckled, kissing his way up your body again, one hand next to your head to hold himself up just the way he'd done before, but his fingers brushing, stroking, his thumb on your clit, moan after moan spilling from you. You needed more. More.

You tried to shift closer, tried to cant your hips into his palm for more, blinking up at him and whimpering and fuck, Bradley was just human after all, how could he deny you anything if you looked at him like that? So he started drawing little circles with his thumb, little circles on your clit, and pushed a finger into you.

You rewarded him with the soft sound of his name rolling off your tongue, your hands reaching for his arms, clawing at his biceps. You had needed this, had needed him and now... Now you needed more. More, even as he pulled his finger from you and pushed in again, starting in a slow, easy rhythm, drawing little moans, quiet whimpers from you. You rocked your hips back onto him, pushed for more. More.

"More", you voiced your thoughts, begging, pleading again - you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted! And you'd been so close, you'd been so goddamn close, but now he was just lazily pushing his finger into you, with one of those grins on his lips that told you he knew what he was doing incredibly well too. He was a tease, a goddamn tease, and you-

"More what, honey?", Bradley asked, interrupting your thoughts, your spiraling thoughts as his finger moved ever so slowly, teasing, playing.

You let out a whine as he stilled completely, his finger nestled inside you, touching you but not touching you enough, not nearly enough and he'd make you go crazy one day, he would! You tried to push your hips into his hand. Not that it did anything.

"More what?", Bradley asked again, looked at you as you refocused on his face, his eyes because you knew he'd want you to. He always wanted you to look at him.

"Please", you whispered. "Bradley."

His smile deepened, but he didn't move.

"Nice try, baby", he chuckled. "But that wasn't the question."

You grumbled and tilted your head back, squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. You wanted more. And he was making you say exactly what.

Putting the power in your hands, it seemed - but you knew it wasn't that. He'd already promised you to do just what you wanted, had said it so easily, so soberly that he'd left you dazed. And now he was asking you to do the same.

You couldn't. He knew you couldn't.

So you let out a small whimper, let your head fall to the side to look at him again, eyes wide and teeth digging into your bottom lip and kept still as best as you could, even as the desire, the need to fuck yourself on his finger grew with every passing breath - trying to make sure that he wouldn't tease you further. He'd done that before already, you knew that he could and he would.

He seemed to have realised it too, your legs, your hips calm now, your eyes fixed on his.

"Please fuck me, Bradley", you said softly, only a little breathlessly, a little nervous around the edges, doing your best not to let your restraint show. You weren't used to just saying stuff like that out loud. It was different, somehow, to say it, and to say it right to his face too.

But as much as you tried to hide it, your body still had the same reaction - breath coming shorter, heat shooting straight to your cheeks, the coil in your stomach tightening again.

Bradley's eyes on yours didn't make it any better.

Neither did his grin as he pulled his finger from you, pulled a moan from your lips right with it, as he brushed it through your folds, up and down before his fingertip stopped on your clit.

"Fuck you how, honey?", he asked. He wanted you to lose your mind, you were sure of that. You bit down on your lip, furrowed your brows, forced yourself to think, to keep thinking even though he was drawing circles on your clit now, bringing you back to the endless loop of more, more, more in your mind.

"Fuck me-", you panted, starting and stopping, closing your eyes. "Rough, please, Bradley. Please."

He pulled his fingers from you entirely, chuckling as you mewled and blinked up at him again, as you watched him raise his hand to your lips. You parted them in reflex, let him push his fingers into your mouth, rest them on your tongue. This, finally, was something you felt much less nervous about. So you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his fingers clean.

Bradley had you well acquainted with the taste of yourself by now. Not that you minded.

You made sure to keep your eyes fixed on his as you brushed your tongue along his fingertips. He let out some sort of sound caught between a moan and a groan and a curse and, maybe, your name, and you had a hard time keeping your grin concealed as you sucked, spurred on not only the fire in your own abdomen, but in Bradley's as well, red heating up your cheeks and your legs growing restless.

You were getting impatient again. You needed more.

Luckily, it seemed that Bradley had about enough of this as well.

He pulled his fingers from you with a pop, shook his head with a grin, trailed a line of your spit around your breasts, around your nipples.

"You look sinful", he muttered, dropping a kiss to your lips before you could even begin to think about a response, all open mouth and breathing each other in, the taste of you on both your tongues. "Tell me again how you want me to fuck you rough, honey. Just once more. Can you do that for me?"

You nodded, nodded without thinking, panting a bit now, pressing your legs together at his voice, at the look in his eyes, at... at him, at everything about him. You needed him. You'd do anything he asked.

"Fuck me rough, Bradley. Please."

His eyes darkened further. He brought his lips down on yours again, firmer now, heavier now, claiming your mouth, your tongue, your lips, claiming you, back to the familiar, thrilling predator and prey game that the two of you had abandoned at some point along the way.

"Good girl", he rasped.

You let out a pitiful moan. God, this man would absolutely be the death of you.

Good girl.

You couldn't press your legs together any further, couldn't possibly get any more friction, could only whine and whimper and moan and wait, wait as Bradley reached between your bodies and finally, finally, finally pushed into you.

You'd been waiting for this for the past five days.

You let out some pathetic sounding sob of his name as he pressed his hips snugly to yours, stretching you out in the best of possible ways, dropping his lips to your throat, to your neck. You clawed at his arms, at his shoulders, pulled him close to you, even closer. Eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, breath hitching.

Bradley gave you the entirety of half a second to adjust to him, half a second in which you could barely get past the moan of his name before he was moving, thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of you, drawing sounds you'd have been embarrassed about in any other situation.

But you could barely hear them.

You could barely do anything other than moan, anything other than scratch, hold, claw at him, anything other than let him wrap your legs around his waist and push in, pull out, push in again, his hold on your thigh so firm you'd see the marks tomorrow.

He fucked you with a relentlessness that reduced you to a mess of numb limbs, that pulled every last thought from you, one by one - with a rhythm, unfaltering, unwavering, with soft grunts and moans rolling off his tongue, with his mouth moving against your skin, working his way up to yours.

You met his lips in a frenzy, your hands tangled somewhere in his hair, your nails scratching somewhere down his back, your legs wrapped around his hips, your lips parted, your moans swallowed, his cock sliding in and out of you, the delicious drag of him building, setting alight the coil in your stomach.

You'd been waiting for this for too long. You wouldn't last much longer, not after he'd already pulled the first orgasm from you. Not after he'd been building you up for so long.

"Bradley", you moaned against his lips. "More."

He pulled back an inch and you blinked your eyes open, focused on him, on the blush on his cheeks and the rise and the fall of his chest as he slowed down a bit, drawing another whine from you, feeling different now, slower yes, but more deliberate maybe, more teasing maybe, hitting other spots, dragging it out, feeling more and less intense all the same and - most importantly - letting your close, so close grow weaker and weaker and weaker.

"You know-", Bradley panted, letting his thumb brush over the skin of your thigh, loosening his grip just the slightest. "You know how to ask, pretty girl."

A sob made its way past your lips. You wanted more, you needed more - you'd be good for him, you wanted to be good for him, but you forgot, you brushed right past it when he had you like this. So wasn't it his fault, really?

"Fuck me harder, Bradley", you whimpered - you'd lost the ability to feel embarrassed somewhere along the way. You didn't care anymore, not with his cock so slowly sliding in and out of you, not with his eyes on yours, not with... no, not anymore, you needed more now and you were desperate to get it, already rocking your hips back onto him in search of more - more friction, more touch, more him.

He pressed his lips to yours again, back to claiming you, back to firm, back to teeth and tongue before pulling away, pulling out, pulling another wail from you as he sat back on his ankles, hard and panting.

Then his hands clasped around your waist and you had no time to react before he had turned you over, your face smushed into the pillow, fingers reaching up to dig into the sheets.

He thrust back into you in one swift motion.

And you screamed.

You didn't know how he did it - you didn't want to know, really - but he hit that sensitive spot inside of you instantly, the new position allowing new depth, allowing new touches, new feelings, new and more and you couldn't think, could only touch, only feel.

Only touch, only feel him.

The drag of him, the push of him, the way he hit all those spots he needed to hit to have you up there, to have you close within seconds again.

He trailed his fingertips along your spine, sent a shiver through your body as he fucked you rough, just like you'd asked of him so very, very nicely. He reached your neck, reached around to your throat and when his fingers brushed along your jaw, he clasped his hand around it and pulled. Pulled you up, right to his chest, sweat sticking to your skin as you moaned his name.

You let your head drop back onto his shoulder, gave him more skin to touch, more of your body to claim, more of you to make his as he thrust relentlessly into you, as his other hand brushed between your legs, up your thighs until his fingers met your clit, pushed down and pulled an even louder moan of his name from you.

His hand closed around your throat at the same time.

You choked back a gasp, breath hitching, back arching off him and into him both, more and less clashing in your mind because this was what you wanted, this was what you'd begged him for, but all of it so suddenly, following each other so closely - too much, not enough.

You clenched around him.

Bradley let out a moan - his lips against your ear, the sound of it in every fibre of your body, of your mind, of your soul. And that was it for you.

You came with another cry of his name - a scream, a sob, maybe, or none of it, you weren't sure - maybe you let out no sound at all, rendered silent for once. The world was white for a second, your mouth dry, your throat hoarse, pleasure coarsing through every vein, every limb, every muscle, every bone.

You went slack against him. Your legs gave out, your eyes fell shut, your arms, your hands loose at your sides, and the only reason you didn't fall back onto your mattress were Bradley's arms around you - on your throat, around your hips. His fingertips circling your clit still, his hips snug to yours as he bit down on your shoulder, as he reached his own high, his moustache scratching deliciously against your skin, grounding you as your breath slowly came back to normal, as you won back the feeling in your legs.

You stayed still for a minute - just catching your breath, allowing yourself to take whatever time you needed to come back to yourself, to really notice the way Bradley held you up all on his own, the way his chest felt against your back, the way he had his lips pressed to the skin of your shoulder, the way his thumbs brushed ever so softly up and down, one along your throat, one along your stomach.

You never wanted this to end.

You were warm and safe and satisfied in his arms.

A slow smile spread on your face. Bradley's breath fanned softly over the shell of your ear. You could feel your own heart beat in your chest.

"Satisfied now, honey?", Bradley rasped, voice rough in all the right ways, his lips ghosting over your neck. You let out a soft hum in agreement. He chuckled against your skin.

"I'm gonna let go of you now, princess", he cautioned (you could just so push back the whine that wanted to escape) before ever so slowly, ever so carefully pulling his hand from your throat, pulling his arm from around you - softly pushing down on your back instead, hands wrapped around your hips again, laying you back down on the mattress and then turning you over. The bed was cold in comparison to him. Cold and lonely.

He had to pull out as he lay you down and that whine left your lips after all - you were empty and cold and lonely now and you wanted him, more of him, all of him again. Your legs were mushy and your mind still reeling, but you didn't have to think much anyway, not when you knew just what you wanted. You reached out, arms, hands in mid air as you tried to grab him, any of him.

He was sitting back on his ankles, running his hands through his hair, meeting your eyes as he saw you reach out for him. He looked positively exhausted.

You got hold of his hands and pulled him down, onto you. He brought them - and yours right with them - down next to your head in reflex, effectively pinning you down, and though neither of you had planned that, you still had to fight back a smile.

You were breathless, chest still heaving with the sticky intoxication of the moment, sweaty and hot and satisfied, truly, and you wanted him to wrap you up in his arms now and let you fall asleep on his chest.

Instead, he leaned in with a grin and kissed you. Kissed you with all the fiery passion fading into heady contentment, slow and deliberate, because he had all the time in the world now - it was the middle of the night and both of you were growing tired, your bones heavy, your muscles aching deliciously, your thoughts quiet, lazy almost. The middle of the night where romance could now dominate what had before been lust's reign.

That was what this felt like, Bradley's body on yours, his skin sticky with sweat, his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing down into the mattress. This felt like golden honey dripping down onto the reality of the moment, like gods' ichor flowing in your veins, like unnecessarily long and flowery metaphors for a feeling you felt too afraid to name this early on.

Bradley pulled away, let go of your hands and sat back once more - you followed him on some invisible kind of string, pushing up onto your palms, blinking at him in confusion.

He dropped another quick kiss onto your lips with a chuckle.

"Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?", he asked, a grin playing on his lips, his hands brushing over your ribcage, your stomach as though he, too, had some carnal need to keep touching you, to keep his fingertips moving over your skin at all times.

You closed your eyes, allowed the smile on your face to grow as wide as it wanted, and nodded at him.

"Yes, please, Roos", you mumbled, bathing in the yellow light of your bedroom lamp, in the soft buzzing of the ac, in the rhythmic tic-toc of your kitchen clock. In all these daily-life things, because they weren't daily-life right now. Right now, Bradley had just fucked you, right now, Bradley was sitting in front of you, right now, Bradley had his hands on your body, right now... Right now, you were happy, happy and satisfied, content with the world.

"Back to Rooster, are we?", he asked, drew his hands back from you and got up. Your smile deepened.

"I thought you liked your callsign", you quipped back innocently, eyes opening again as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off of your mattress, into the air, just because he could, just because you wanted him to. You didn't think you'd ever possibly get tired of his strength. He was a bit like your own, personally crafted superhero.

"I do", he muttered. You crossed your arms behind his neck, pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "But the entire squad uses it."

"Oh", you said, exactly like that, because oh, indeed. "So when I say Rooster..."

"I think of work."

You pulled back a bit to look at him, even as his eyes were focused on the wall, trying to find the light switch for the bathroom.

"And you don't like that", you concluded, teeth digging into your bottom lip as a thought struck you. "You don't like thinking of work, Lieutenant?"

Bradley froze.

Bullseye.

"What did you say?"

His eyes focused on you, fixated on you, his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed. You did your best try at an innocent smile, at a doe-eyed look somehow, but you doubted you achieved anything even remotely close.

"Lieutenant", you muttered again, heat pooling in your lap once more simply at the look on his face. You'd uncovered another one of his layers and you were already anticipating the consequences. "Do you want me to beg again?"

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun #top gun smut #x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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outsideratheart · 1 year

Text

Plans (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: This idea has been in my head for while but whenever it came to writing it my mind would go blank. I hope you guys like it.

To those around you your departure from Wolfsburg didn't come as a surprise but the rest of the world couldn't believe they would let you go considering the way you performed at the Euros with Germany. For you it wasn't about the money like the rest of the world assumed, you wanted to play for a team that valued you and over the last 18 months Wolfsburg hadn't done that.

You had been playing football since you were 4 years old, got your first professional contract at 16 years old and was the youngest player male or female to become the starting goalkeeper. Throughout your career you never picked up any injuries other than a niggle here and there. That was until a reckless tackle left you needing major surgery on your shoulder and put you on the side line for almost a year. Your return to the starting 11 came in the second leg of the champions league quarter final against Barcelona where you managed to keep a clean sheet and contributed heavily to giving the Spanish side their first loss of the season.

When it came to your contract negotiations you made things very clear, you were the number 1 goalkeeper. It wasn't a claim fuelled with arrogance, it was backed by facts. They had different plans, ones that didn't align with yours so you asked your manager to put some feelers out. Throughout the euros he would keep you updated and when he called to say Sandra Panos was taking an early retirement to spend more time with her family and that Barcelona was interested, you didn't think twice about it. During the summer tournament you, along with your manager, had several video calls with the Catalonian side and came to terms on a contract which pleased both you and the team. They only had one request; it had to kept a secret until Sandra made her announcement.

It's how you found yourself standing outside Joan Camper on 2nd August just two days after you lost the final. You were told to take a few days off to recover from the loss and to take some time off but you didn't want to. Losing the final in extra time was brutal and you couldn't sit around doing nothing or you would obsess over every minute detail.

"You're the new signing?"

You turn on your heels to see Ingrid walking rapidly towards you with Mapi not too far behind her.

"I cannot confirm nor deny" you briefly hugged the Norwegian before she introduced you to Mapi.

The three of you walk into the facility but you are soon pulled aside to sign your contract and make things official. The process itself is tedious, page after page requires your signature and several members of the higher ups take a photo with you. Then the part you were waiting for comes, they give you your shirt. It felt weird seeing your name on the back of anything that wasn't Wolfsburg and it fills you with a bitter sweet feeling even though you know the change was needed.

Shortly after you are led out onto the field so you can be officially introduced to the team. Many of them you had met before when representing Germany but now they were your team mates and there were a couple that had already held that title in the past. You had already seen Ingrid earlier in the morning, Frido welcomes you with open arms stating how happy she is that you're both on the same team again. There was only one person left.

"No way did they let you go" Caro shouts as she runs across the training pitch. She leaps into your arms as soon as she's close enough. Caroline is one of you best friends and you were devastated when you learnt she was leaving Wolfsburg after 6 years.

"Barely even fought for me" you whispered in her ear.

She jumped down and you can tell that she is caught aback by what you've said but she hadn't seen the way they treated you after your injury.

"I bet the girls wasn't happy"

"Not in the slightest. I had to keep it a secret until Panos announced her retirement. Svenja was the first one I told, then Poppi who isn't talking to me, not properly anyways"

After the quick catch up you watch the team train from the sidelines. You wasn't allowed to join in until you completed your medical. The team was worried about putting you to work so soon after the euros so they wanted to put you through some tests before they let you put on your gloves.

As a football fan it was amazing watching the Spanish champions train. The tika taka style is something you have always admired and to see it up close, well it filled you with excitement for the upcoming season. You see Mapi struggling to defend against Caro and you see an opportunity to gain some points with the defender.

"Mapi, come here" you call her over when they split for a drinks break. A few of the players watch as you whisper some tactics in her ear then show her the positioning your former team mate uses. When the scrimmage resumes you watch as Mapi follows your advice and stops Caro twice in a row.

When Mapi looks your way she points at you leading the Norwegian to realise what you must have told her.

"That's not fair" Caro complains.

"How did you know what she'd do?" Ana asks you.

"It's my job to know how attackers think so that I can stop them. Caro is a creature of habit and hasn't changed her style since she left Wolfsburg so it was easy" your football IQ had helped you become the player you are and it's the reason why teams did more research on you than any other goalkeeper.

"Clearly not if you couldn't stop her at Camp Nou" Pina's voice is laced with smugness.

Out the corner of your eye you can see a couple of players shaking their head, a few even burying their face in their hands.

"It's hard to do that when you’re watching from the stands Claudia" the young forward was clearly confused "I had only just been cleared by our doctor so I wasn't playing"

Pina went bright red when she realises the mistake she had made.

"Alexia's going to love playing with her. I wonder if she knew Y/N was signing with us" Marta whispers to Caro.

"I think she knew before us but not by much. Just wait until they can play together, the way their minds work will be make them dangerous. Speaking of, Y/N!" Caro shouts over to you "Have you met Alexia yet?"

"No, I heard she is coming in later for some physio so I will meet her after my physical"

The team share a look. Alexia sang your praises often and it was no secret that she admired you not only on the pitch. They wished they could be a fly on the wall for the first meeting between the two of you.

As expected you pass your medical with no issues. The cardio test is easy and even though you were fresh off a gruelling tournament you showed no signs of fatigue. The only thing they were a little cautious on was your shoulder, in the lead up the winning England goal you were taking out by a white shirt and during the ceremony you were seen holding your elbow to limit the pressure on the joint.

The physio asks if you want the TV on whilst she works. You connect your phone and play a reply of the Euros final. The doctor scoffs beside you but doesn't say anything. After the champions league they learnt the importance of understanding a loss.

You are laid on a treatment table as the physio tries her best to turn your shoulder inside out. The pain was there and it was more than you were willing to admit but you had a strict recovery routine and you didn't do it after the final so you were a little sore. The physio tells you to lay on your front so she can look at the muscle behind your shoulder. Your focus is 100% on your breathing and trying to relax, so much so that you don't hear the door open or the sound of crutches travel across the room. It is only when you hear her speaking to one of the other physios closest do you wave yours off so you can finally meet your new captain.

You wait for her to finish talking before introducing yourself, only Alexia beats you to it.

"I never thought we get the chance to play together. I'm Alexia" Alexia is quick to remove her arm from one of her crutches so that she is able to shake your hand.

“Y/N Y/L/N”

Even though it has been a month since her surgery you can tell she isn't used to her crutches so you pat the closest treatment table so she can sit down.

“Mucho gusto”

“Igualmente”

Alexia's eyes widen at your Spanish response, even more so that it sounds authentic even with your german accent.

"Surprised the German speaks Spanish” You laugh a little at her shocked response. Truth is as soon as a potential move to Barcelona got brought up you started studying the language straight away. You had welcomed many people to Wolfsburg and you told them the same thing 'learn the language and get to know to the culture'. You had been putting in the work on the first one but given this is your first day in Barcelona you hadn't had to chance to experience the second.

"Mm-hmm" she was impressed and you knew it.

“It would be ignorant of me to move to a different country and not make the effort to learn their language. I was just doing some extra physio work but i'll get out of your hair so you can start yours"

"No, no. I don't mind you been here" Alexia surprised herself by allowing you to be there when she does her rehab. Since the injury she has been keeping herself to herself but there was something about you that made her feel comfortable. Maybe it was the fact that you had been through something similar to her, you understand what it was like to be at your peak then have everything come crashing down.

Alexia gets changed into some training gear and when she re enters the room you are stood up as the doctor assesses the movement of your recently healed shoulder. Your upper body was covered in noting but a sports bra revealing your sculpted arms and toned abs.

Alexia admired the view in front of her, maybe for a little bit longer than she should have for when she meets your eyes she sees that you've caught her.

“I’m sorry, I...I" Alexia stumbles over her words and you find it adorable "I was —”

“Checking me out" you finish her sentence, smirking as you do so when you see her cheeks flush red "Don’t be embarrassed, own it. Do you want me to turn around so you can have a full look”

Alexia laughs as you walk back towards the bench as if there's a catwalk “enjoying the view from behind?” you almost shout back to her

“Yes” you turn hastily, shocked at the new confidence Alexia has "What? You said to own it"

"Touche Putellas, touche"

Alexia starts her rehab whilst you sit back on the bench wearing a compression sleeve which is hooked up to a machine to monitor the pressure. After twenty minutes she notices what is playing on the TV and he first instinct to to scold you for tourturing yourself but it would make her a hypocrite because she did the same thing after Turin.

It gets to the final ten minutes and you know what is about to come. You fists turn into balls as Chloe Kelly's shot hits the back of the net. Your eyes close for a brief moment and a single tear falls down your cheek as you do so.

"It was a handball" the soft voice brought you back to the present.

"Doesn't matter. I should have been better" you couldn't bring yourself to look at Alexia.

"It's not on you Y/N" Alexia tries to console you but she knew nothing would take away the sting of losing such an important game "I know it's easy to blame yourself when your team loses but a loss cannot be placed on one person's shoulders"

"Especially if that person isn't able to play" you knew that you might be pushing the boundaries of your friendship which was formed not even an hour ago but you knew she needed to hear it.

"It's that obvious" you send her a look that says yes "It's hard not to think what would've happened if I could have played but i'm coming to term with this" she point to her knee showing that she was starting to accept her injury.

"I don't know if this will help but I knew we would beat you before the Euros even started. After the Italy game I saw your team's weak spot. Your number 10 Hermoso"

You see Alexia wince at the mention of her former team mate and ex girlfriend.

"I take your face as confirmation that the rumours were true" Alexia nods her head "Ok well back to what I was saying. Hermoso played a bigger role than your team realised and you couldn't replace her, it was obvious you were still experimenting when the Euros started. So let's say you were healthy because I worked really hard to build what we called an APS, Alexia Putellas--

"Segura?"

"Close but the S stood for strategy, the Alexia Putellas Strategy. I worked with Lena Oberdorf for months perfecting it and I am confident when I say she would have made your job incredibly difficult when we played each other"

"I guess there's only one way to find out" Alexia says as she continues her rehab. The thought of playing against you and seeing this APS in person gave her a little bit of extra motivation.

It is almost an hour later when Alexia is done and although you finished over 45 minutes ago you didn't want to leave. You were enjoying getting to know your new team mate with it been just the two of you. The first few questions revolved around your career, after that you refused to talk shop, normal question only. You discussed everything from top 5 movies of all time to favourite Christmas memory. Without knowing it you had both put each other on pedestals and this time alone together made you both human.

Before going home you had to get your new training clothes from the locker room. When you leave the building you see Alexia sitting on a bench typing furiously on her phone.

"Is everything ok?" you ask the midfielder.

"My sister is suppose to be picking me up and now I can't get a hold of her"

You hear her leave a voicemail for who you can only guess is her sister. The way she furiously speaks leaves you no chance of understanding what she said.

"That wasn't Spanish"

"Catalonian"

"I'll add it to my list" you joke.

Alexia is clearly stressed out about the situation and it leaves you no choice but to be her knight is shinning armour.

"Calm down" you place you hand over her phone screen "If you want I can take you home"

"To my mum's"

"Ok, let's go" You take her bag before she can argue and lead her to where you've parked.

Once in the car you give Alexia your phone so she can pick the music. The drive to her mum's is done in comfortable silence, the only sound was Spanish music and Alexia's instructions. You pull up outside, get her crutches and bag from the boot before helping her of the car and following her to the front door. The path isn't exactly even so you are cautious of every step she takes. Her mum, having not recognised the car outside her house, meets you both at the door.

"Querida, I thought Alba was picking you up" She takes the bag from you.

"Me too but she never showed"

Alexia's mum stays in the door way with you and Alexia on the other side of the threshold. It's almost like Alexia doesn't want the day to end as much as you do.

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friend?"

"Mum, this is Y/N Y/L/N our new goalkeeper. She played for Germany and she used to play for Wolfsburg"

"I thought she looked familiar. She's the one you couldn't stop talking about the other night when we watched the final. Sorry about the result Carino"

You still didn't like the pity in people's eyes when the give you their condolences for the loss. It is something that Alexia is quick to pick up on.

"Y/N this is my mum Eli Putellas Segura"

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs Putellas or is it Segura" the panic in your tone is small but it's heard by the two Putellas women.

"You can call me Eli. Thank you for driving my daughter home. Would you like to come in for a drink?"

Truth is you would love to but you had already made plans.

"Maybe another time. Ingrid is letting me stay with her for the next fews day and in return I agreed to cook dinner"

"Did the club not help you find an apartment?" Alexia asks, her eyebrow slightly crooked as frustration grows within her.

"They did but for obvious reasons they didn't expect me to be in Barcelona so soon. Something about taking some time off" you joke.

"And you wanted to get back to work" Alexia understands you completely.

"See, you get it. If only everybody did instead of worrying about me" you laugh off your wish.

Eli watches the two of you go back and forth for a few more minutes. She couldn't believe you had only ever met on the pitch because the sight before her looks more like a reunion between old friends than a scene between two people who only got introduced today.

Both mother and daughter stand by the door as they watch you get back into your car.

"So what's going on between you two then?" Eli wasn't blind and the connection that was slowly forming between you and Alexia was clear to anyone with eyes.

"I don't know. She will be good for the team though"

"And for you. I haven't seen you smile like that since you came back from England"

"She understands what I'm going through" Alexia's reply was short and sweet.

Over the next few months you continued your rehab sessions even though you were fully cleared. You even coincided your sessions with Alexia's when possible so that you could spend as much time with her . You even took part in her workouts on top of your own. It was exhausting but totally worth it.

You suggested that the club invest in a reflex grid, it was made up of several shapes connect by ropes. Every time the ball hit a shape, it would send it in a different direction. Some nights you would stay behind with the goalkeeper coach to do some extra practices using your new toy. Alexia would watch from the window of the treatment room and even came outside to watch you train. The team saw the way you brought out the old side of Alexia, the one they feared went away when she had her surgery. They wanted to know if anything was going on but your former Wolfsburg team mates told them that you were a very private person and given that Alexia is in the middle of rehabbing her knee, you most likely wouldn't have made a move.

It was after one of those late night sessions that Alexia joined you on the pitch. She hadn’t done it much because she hated being on the grass and not being able to lace up her boots. You were tidying up when you saw her walking over.

“You looked like you were having fun?” Alexia helps you put the balls back in the bag. You can see her thinking about doing something with it but ultimately decides against it.

“Don’t be sad Alexia, you’ll be the one taking shots at me before you know it. As for me having fun I was. I saw you watching, did you enjoy the show?” You judged her slightly.

“I’m gay” she blurts out.

When you turn to face Alexia you see her stood a few meters behind you. Clearly she stopped walking and you didn’t realise.

“I’m honoured that your feel comfortable enough to share this information, I really am but you’ve got to know by now that I already knew this”

“Then why haven’t you made a move? We have been flirting for months, I spend more time with you than anyone else yet you haven’t asked me out. Why? Is it because I’m broken?” She points to her knee. Even now she was still coming to terms with her injury and it caused her confidence to take a huge hit.

You walk back to where she was standing. She has no idea how difficult it was for you to respect where she is in her life.

“Alexia” you take a hold of her hand “I like you more than I have anyone in a very long time. You’re beautiful, strong and when I was at my lowest you put me back together when you had your own issues to focus on. I would love nothing more than to take you out for dinner but right now you have to focus on your recovery. Trust me when I say I have plans for us once you're back on the pitch”

“You do?” Alexia asks in disbelief.

With a simple nod of your head a huge grin appears on her face.

“So right now I won't act on my feelings. Instead I will stay by your side and be there in whichever way possible"

"Vale" the way Alexia smiles and how it reaches her eyes gives you an incredible feeling. Then again everything she did had you feeling a certain type of way, you couldn't quite put a finger on what it was but in a time were things were new and uncertain she brought you peace.

It was the right thing to do yet you regretted your decision of not pursuing Alexia every time you were near her. Since the night you admitted your plans the energy between the two of you changed and when you were in a room together the tension was heavy and obvious to anyone who took a few seconds to watch you both.

It was during media day when the team really saw the connection between the two of you. The morning was spent doing interviews and the afternoon was spent taking photos for social media and the team website. The last set of photos to be taken was of the team wearing a new limited edition kit. At first everything was normal but when it came to Alexia's turn you could sense something was off. You knew she hated getting her photo taken especially when it was this staged but it was something deeper than that. You watched as she shakily tied her boots and re-adusted her socks for the umpteenth time. It is only when you see her staring at her knee do you understand what's going on.

"Give us the room" you tell the other players.

Many of them argue that they need to get changed too but quite frankly you don't care. Even when the women around you try to get your attention you don't take your eyes of Alexia whose own begin to well up ever so slightly as she gets more and more overwhelmed.

"Now!" you raise your voice this time and it doesn't come as a surprise when the team do as they're told.

As soon as they leave you close the door behind them and lock it. When you turn around you see Alexia's hands shaking as she once again adjusts her socks.

"Talk to me Ale"

You crouch down so that you can see her. Her hands tremble as you hold them tightly.

"My socks won't cover it"

Many people didn't understood the psychological affect scars had and the visible ones took a knock to your confidence that was difficult to overcome. You knew this feeling all two well but it's the first time you see Alexia struggling with the reminder of her surgery.

“Every scar tells a story. This one, if I remember correctly” you point the scar on her right index finger “tells me you're not as skilled in the kitchen as you are on the pitch” Alexia sniffled as a small chuckle escapes her mouth “and this one” you place your hand just above her knee not wanting to overstep her boundaries, she nods her head letting you know it’s ok for you to touch it.

Alexia's breath hitches slightly as you stroke over the reminder of her ACL surgery. The goosebumps that form on her legs let you know the affect your touch has on her but now isn't to time to tease.

“This one tells the story of a strong women who was given the option to give up but she chose to fight. It tells me that even when she wanted to give up she kept going. It shows bravery and resilience” despite a voice telling you not to, you place a gentle kiss on her knee.

"It reminds me that I'm broken" Alexia tries to swallow the ball of emotion that is rising the the surface.

This side of Alexia is one that you have gotten to known well over the past few months but it seems like this time the pain runs deeper than before. She had been cleared to train on the pitch starting next week but the scar on her knee is a constant reminder of how quickly things can change.

"You're not broken Alexia and you should wear that scar with pride"

"Like you do yours?" she is quick to respond and it's clear she is trying to pick a fight because it means you won't talk about her scar anymore.

You quickly take off your shirt and chuck it aside revealing three scars on your left shoulder. She trails her thumb along each scar in a similar motion to what you did only minutes ago.

"Happy?" you raise your eyebrows as you hope to have satisfied the woman in front of you.

"You hide your scars Y/N and you can't say you don't. You swapped shirts with Lola when we played Atleti but you waited until you were in the tunnel so that nobody saw you without a shirt on"

"Maybe I just didn't want you to be jealous when people start ogling my sculpted physique"

"Y/N I'm being serious. I've used you as inspiration for my recovery. You worked hard, got your spot back on the team and lead your to country to the Euros final"

You groan slightly as she mentions the final. It was still a sore subject and she knew it.

"I know you don't like talking about it but you should. You worked your way back to a major tournament, it's something I hope to do as well. Don't you see that you are telling me not to be ashamed of my scar when you are of yours"

Alexia was right, she knew it and you did too. Your team mates, past and present, would consider you a great leader and the reason for that is because you would never ask them to do something you wouldn't do yet this exactly what you are asking of Alexia.

An idea comes to mind. You may not be the captain of this team but you still have to lead by example and that it exactly what you planned on doing.

"Come with me" you hold you hand out and Alexia takes it happily.

Your entrance to the other room gains the attention of the rest of the team. You aren't wearing a shirt and Alexia is holding your hand.

"I'll show them mine if you show them yours, ok?" you ask Alexia who hesitantly nods her head.

You ask a member of the staff for a pair of scissors and ignore the questions coming from your team mates and the co-ordinator of the photoshoot who is reminding you that there is only one goalkeeper shirt. A few gasps can be heard when you cut the sleeves off your shirt.

"Y/N! What are you doing?" someone tries to stop you but they are too late.

"Time to show the world that injuries do not define you and your scars are not something you have to hide"

You see Alexia smiling ear to ear when she realises what you are doing. After putting on your goalkeeper gloves, you grab and ball, hold it forward and turn slightly so that you scars are fully exposed. The photographer begins taking photos immediately and is loving your new found confidence.

"I want to do it too" Mapi shouts before taking her shirt off and cutting the sleeves.

You can see a staff member glaring at you but you can only mouth an apology. You ruining the kit was one thing but now there were two shirts which were now made of less material than the others.

Alexia watches you mess around with Mapi. She knows that you have done this for her but she still isn't sure. A couple of the other players join you in taking less than professional photos but it sums up the team perfectly; a group of a people who mess around together and enjoy each others company.

"Alexia" you sing and she saunters over to you.

Doubt still lingers in her eye but you reassure her that it will be ok and she believes you. She pulls her sock down revealing the full length of her scar.

"Beautiful" you lower your tone so that only she can hear you.

Upon request, you and Alexia pose for a few photos together. You're favourite is the one where you are down on one knee pretending to shine Alexia's boot. It was the perfect shot as it showed both her scar and yours.

She cannot be sure if its the vulnerability she is feeling or the fact that you have once again gone out of your way to make her feel better that causes her to do what she does next. She wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you close. The proximity in which you faces are is the biggest challenge you've faced yet. Every part of you is yearning to feel her lips on yours but you somehow show restraint. Alexia on the other hand doesn't care for such thing.

You could hear a pin drop when she leans in to kiss you just on the corner of your mouth. It is the quickest kiss you have ever experienced and leaves you frozen in place. Did she really just do that in front of the team?

"Thank you Y/N"

She walks away without saying another word. If she were to turn around you would the smugness of her face. After finding out you wanted to pursue something more with her, Alexia bided her time, waiting to strike. Her injury made her feel helpless but she needed to she you just how daring she can be.

"Scheiße" you run your fingers through your hair as you try to bury the desire to go after the Catalonian and finish what she started.

"How's that will power now?" Caro teased you.

In that moment you regretted confiding in the Norwegian about your feelings for the captain.

"On the verge of being non existent"

"Can we get some cold water for the keeper please" Mapi jokes.

Since that day Alexia wasted no opportunity she had to tease and rile you up. It's as if coming to terms with her scar was the last thing on her list, other than her first game but that was coming soon. She had been given the clear the start training with the ball and when it came to set pieces and ball in motion training she requested that you be in goal because she knew you wouldn't takei it easy on her and that she would have to earn a goal with you in between the sticks.

Weeks pass and soon enough it is Alexia's first game back. The way the crowd erupts as she enters the pitch at the 67th minute is enough to make goosebumps rise to the surface of your skin. It showed just how much this club loves her and seeing a stray tear fall down her cheek shows you what the club means to her.

When the final whistle is blown the team waste no time in celebrating the return of their captain but you choose to observe from a distance. You were still new to the team and you didn't want to intrude on a moment between family because that's what this team was.

As Alexia walks towards you she has a huge smile on her face and you know exactly what she is feeling. Even the way she walked was different, it's almost as if she was lighter.

You open your arms out expecting a short hug but Alexia's arms tighten around you and you feel her tears fall down your neck.

"It's ok, let it out"

She takes a few moment to gather her emotions and with a deep breathe she pulls away to face you.

"I'm back on the pitch. You know what this means"

Of course you did. you haven't been able to think about anything else since the team got told about Alexia's return game.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow at 6"

"That's it?" you knew alexia had a need for control and her knowing only when you'll pick her up sent her inner control freak into panic.

"That's all you need to know for now"

The two of you do a lap around El Johan as you take up the atmosphere. It truly was like nothing else you've experienced before, the support of the fans was unmatched. In the past few months you surprised yourself at the amount of restraint you showed Alexia but in this moment it was worth it. She was fit, healthy and back doing the thing she loved.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona femeni one shot #espwnt x reader #espwnt imagine #espwnt one shot

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ofstarsandvibranium · 7 months

Text

My Sweetheart: Part 2

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You purchase a vintage sweetheart bracelet from an antique store and with it, comes the spirit of the woman who owned it. Through her, you go on an interesting journey to find out what happened to her old lover.

Part 1

It's been two days since you've basically taken a ghost back home with you. Said ghost named Dot who was attached to the sweetheart bracelet you bought. In the few days since discovering her, you've discovered that she can be pretty powerful. She'll open doors, knock things over, stuff to grab your attention. While she does have a lot of energy, communicating with you can take a lot out of her sometimes. Now it's day three and you're at your computer with a pen and paper beside you to see if she can give you the name of this Jamie person.

You watch as the pen moves a bit but doesn't lift. You're sure she's trying her best, but it kind of frustrates you. You want to help Dot so she can move on and so that you can get back to living your regular life, completely alone without your newfound ghost roommate.

Ways to talk to ghosts

You type the words into google and click on the first link you see: ouija board, a spiritual medium, pendulums, rods, voice recorder, or a spirit box.

Out of all the options, you felt like the ouija board would be the best bet to communicate with Dot. So later that day you go to your local Target and purchase a ouija board, because, yes, they do sell those there. The board being considered as a game.

Later that night, after you've had dinner, you sit in your living room. You have the ouiji board set on your coffee table. The lights are off in the room except for a few candles you lit. You place the sweetheart bracelet beside the board, hoping it'll bring as much of Dot's energy as possible. Beside that, is a pad and paper for you to jot notes

You take the planchette, sliding it over to HELLO.

You take a deep breath, "Dot, are you here?"

With your fingers lightly touching the planchette, they slide towards YES on their own.

"Alright. What is your full name?"

You watch at the device slides over each letter to spell out D-O-L-O-R-E-S-M-I-L-L-A-R-D.

"Dolores Millard. Okay. Nice to meet you, Dolores. But I'm assuming you prefer Dot?"

YES, she says as it slides to the upper left of the board.

"Alright, Dot. Who is this Jamie you want me to look for him? Why do you want me to look for him?"

J-A-M-E-S-B-A-R-N-E-S

"James Barnes? Uuuhh, is there anything else you can give me? Does he have a middle name? It'll make things easier to looking him up."

B-U-C-H-A-N-A-N.

"James Buchanan Barnes. Alright. Give me a second," you pull out your phone and type in James Buchanan Barnes as well as 1940s.

You went through a list of men, Dot either telling you YES or NO. Then it hit you, "Wait. Hold on."

You type in BUCKY BARNES to google and tap on a picture captured of him and Sam Wilson, "Is this your Jamie? Is Bucky Barnes your Jamie?"

YES.

"...well shit!"

_______________________________

Bucky didn't expect things to go this way. He didn't think he'd find himself working beside Captain America again. However, he did find it therapeutic in a way. Sure, he still went to therapy, just not with Dr. Raynor anymore, but this was a different kind of therapeutic. This was him doing good, to make up for all the bad he's done as the Winter Soldier.

The newly renovated Avengers Compound in upstate New York was where Bucky stayed a majority of his time. He still had his place in Brooklyn when he needed to get away from Sam and the newbies, but, for the most part, this was where he can be found.

"Uh, hey, Mister Barnes?"

Bucky looks away from the tv to see Kamala looking at him confused, "What is it, kid?" He asks the young Avenger.

"So there's this lady in the main lobby asking for you. She said it's important?"

"Define important."

Kamala shrugs, "I don't know. Something about a bracelet and a lady named Dot."

Bucky's brows raise in interest, "Dot?"

"FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Bucky?"

"Bring up the CCTV footage of the lobby?"

"Got it," a holoscreen appears and you're seen sitting in a waiting area. Your leg is bouncing, your fingers are tapping on your lap.

"Is she someone you know?" Kamala asks.

Bucky shakes his head, "Nope, but she's mentioned someone that from my past. So I guess I'm gonna talk to her."

Kamala excitedly asks, "Need backup?!"

He chuckles at her eagerness. Even after working with Carol and Monica, Kamala is always wanting to jump in to help, "I think I'll be okay. You can watch the live footage if you want, just in case."

"OKAY!" Kamala plops herself onto the couch where Bucky previously sat and watched the holoscreen eagerly.

It takes a few minutes for Bucky to get to the lobby. The new Avengers Compound is much bigger now after Thanos destroyed the first one.

His brows furrow as he thinks about Dot. It's been literal decades since he's seen her. He knows she's long passed away after looking her and several other of his loved ones up on the internet. She ended up marrying another guy, had a few kids, and a few grandkids. She died about a decade ago.

When Bucky entered the lobby, you spotted him immediately. One of the security guards rushed to stop you, but Bucky held his hand up, "It's okay."

He then looks at you, "Do I know you?"

You shake your head, "No, sorry, um...can we go somewhere private?"

It's Bucky's turn to shake his head, "Sorry. Since I don't necessarily if you're a threat or not, this is the best we can do."

"Alright," you sigh and pull up your sleeve to reveal a bracelet, "Does this look familiar to you?"

Bucky looks down at your wrist and gestures, "May I?" You slip it off and place it into his metal hand. He looks at it and suddenly remembers, "Dot. I gave this to her before I was shipped out for the war."

"Right. Okay, so, um...do you believe in ghosts, Mr. Barnes?"

He snorts, "Call me Bucky, and, I mean, I've fought aliens, super soldiers, died and came back a few times now, so, sure, I guess ghosts are real. Why?"

"Soooo it seems that Dot's spirit is still connected to this...realm...? Anyway, she's attached to this bracelet and her spirit asked me to find you. I think, maybe, for some closure?"

"Is Dot here now?" Bucky asks, a bit, weirded out by this whole thing.

You shrug, "I don't know. I can't see her."

"Then how'd you communicate with her?"

"She wrote on my steamed up mirror the first time and then it's been primarily through ouija board."

"Those things actually work?"

"Seems so. Anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you helped me give her spirit closure so I can start living a normal life again, sans my new ghost roommate."

Bucky snorts. You're very interesting. It seems you're also very determined and a little desperate to solve this Dot situation out. Bucky's not busy. Sam's away on his own mission, so that leaves Bucky to some free time.

"Yeah. Sure, I guess I'll help."

"Thank you!" you fist bump the air, "Should we start now?"

"What exactly should we do first?"

You slip off your tote bag that you've been carrying and pull out the ouija board you've been using, "We can make contact with Dot?"

"You're...efficient," you shrug and Bucky chuckles, "Yeah. Sure. Okay. Um, we need to get you clearance first so, uh, come with me." You follow him to the desk and watch as he discusses your clearance badge to one of the security. You never thought buying a pretty vintage bracelet from an antique store would lead you to meeting an Avenger.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #f!reader #female!reader

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yanderes-galore · 1 year

Note

Can we have Yan!Uppermoon!Uzui and his Yan!Demons!Wives capturing a Slayer and deciding to keep her?

Sure! Demon Hashira AU ^^ Not really the best with writing him and the wives so I'm going to warn this'll be short. I'm also having trouble being into Demon Slayer lately... I tried, I hope it was good even if it struggled with it lol.

Harem

Yandere! Demon! Uzui Tengen Short

Pairing: Romantic - Implied Poly

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Violence, Blood, Near death experience, Manipulation, Forced relationship implied, Swearing.

Everyone has heard of demons being powerful on their own. One basic demon could devastate an entire village. However, they are not the worst.

There's demons who are chosen as they are the most powerful. Sometimes they cultivate their power from experience, other times... people join them willingly.

Uzui is a strong demon who utilizes sound in his attacks. Alongside him are three female demons whom he calls his lovers. He's a demon dedicated to only them and his leader.

He also has a God complex, wishing for those lower than him to worship him.

When Uzui found you, a Demon Slayer meant to slay him, he laughed. He will admit upon meeting you for the first time he thought your determination was admirable, but laughable. You really thought you could beat him?

Uzui applauded you for putting up a fight. Unfortunately, you were fighting a losing battle. The slayers alongside you were no match. You see, even if you had a group, Uzui's much stronger.

Especially with his wives sneaking up from behind.

Uzui's shockwaves were enough to land your team on their ass before they were torn to bits. Soon you are at his mercy... Uzui's status as an uppermoon really showing in his strength.

"This mission they sent you on was suicide..." He comments, red eyes flicking towards your injured form. "You know that now, don't you?"

You say nothing, blood dribbling from your lips. Your eyes weakly look behind Uzui to see his wives. They stare at you hungrily, you're nothing but injured prey.

"It's a pity... wasting such good potential. It's like throwing a pebble at an attacking beast. You had no chance at harming me."

He steps closer, kneeling down to wrench your chin up. He thinks thoughtfully over your broken body before grinning. You could see his sharp teeth so close to your face.

"Don't you want a second chance?"

You have a questioning gaze. You're dying and a demon suggests a second chance. Of course he's attempting to use you even now....

"Poor thing can't even speak. That can easily be fixed. I think you have the potential to be my fourth."

Fourth...?

"You'd fit alongside my wives, dear. I'd treat you well and you can take your revenge. The slayers clearly see you as fodder, why not show them your true strength?"

The demon wanted you to commit treason. You either become a demon or die... a decison that held heavy consequences. You could die with honor... or-

"Look at you, thinking hard as your brain fails. What have you got to lose? You could die a human... or live as a demon. Be honest, which one sounds better?"

He picks you up as if you're a ragdoll, smiling. Charisma oozes with each word he says. You're in no place to fight him-

"I bet you were alone with the slayers, huh? No need to look so sad... you've proven to me you have the ability to fight. You'll never be alone if you join me. You can have... a family."

You feel him dig claws into your neck, causing you to sputter. Uzui looks disappointed in your silence or lack of response. He scoffs, slinging your bleeding body over his shoulder. Probably shouldn't have gouged your stomach....

"Your determination to cling to human life is sad. No matter, I wasn't going to give you a choice in the end anyways."

He turns and walks off with his wives in tow.

"If I say I think your worthy of being mine, there's no fighting it. Even if it means dragging your bleeding body where I want it to make you a demon. So sit tight, you're going to be mine, doesn't matter if you like it or not. I'm a GOD! You are foolish to even think of not joining me."

Far as the corps know, you're considered dead like the rest of your team.

What they don't know is you became victim of the infamous demon Uzui...

Forced to give up your humanity even if you were against it, all because he happened to like your fierce spirit.

#yandere demon slayer #yandere uzui tengen #yandere demon #yandere demon hashira au

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futbol16 · 1 year

Text

We Go Get Her • Barcelona Femení

This is a bit heavy, just as a disclaimer

Request: This one is like the barca team x reader where the team knows you're struggling as your injury is getting the best of you. When you don't show up at the end of the year party, and none of the girls can get a hold of you they speed to your home. What they find, you can choose whatever, breaks their heart into a million pieces, Alexia Irene and Aitana almost passing out at the sight

Word count: 1,7k

“Where’s Y/N?” are the words that have Mapi lifting her drink away from her mouth and looking at Aitana with a shrug.

“She said she was going to come with Irene” she’s about to take another sip of her drink when the midfielder points towards the bar where Irene is talking to Marta and Lucy.

“Well Irene’s here, Y/N isn’t” Aitana wears an expectant look as she waits for Mapi to give an answer, the defender clueless to where you were.

“I don’t know about everyone’s whereabouts Tana” the blonde shrugged, this time taking a big gulp of the alcohol. She was far more interested in the closing of the year party than having to hunt down someone, she was sure you were fooling around with Claudia and Geyse somewhere.

“Is Ale here already? Ale always keeps her close” Ingrid joins the conversation as she leans into Mapi.

“Sí” is the short answer Aitana gives. It’s not like she’s panicking, but you had promised to buy her a drink after losing one of your many bets, she was also missing your company.

The three girls leave it at that however. They go on with their evening and whenever someone asks where you were, the answer is the same, with Claudia or Geyse. That reasoning is realistic until Geyse looks at Alexia in confusion at the question, shaking her head with a frown. And when just a second later Claudia waltzes over with Patri, Aitana’s eyes widen as she shares a look with the captain. No one had seen you since the party started an hour ago and no one knew where you were.

Immediately Alexia springs into action, Irene following as she reads the tense mood the girls have set and both of them type away at their phones. A message sent from Irene while Alexia is holding the device to her ear, impatiently waiting for you to pick it up and to hear your voice on the other side. It goes to voicemail though, which is when the panic sets in.

“Erm so what now?” Patri questions as she nervously rubs at her elbow, concerned expression mirroring those of everyone else.

“We go, we go get her”

The knocking on your door is drowned out by your cries and eventually Alexia gives up as she gets out her spare key, it was for emergencies, you said, but this was exactly that, an emergency. She slowly opens the door, poking her head in for any possible threat before she opens the door all the way and the team let themselves in. The place is dimly lit, only the light from the kitchen gives the otherwise dark room some sign of life.

All 23 of the girls look at each other in question as they stand by the now closed front door, waiting for someone to make the first move. A harsh tap to Alexia’s shoulder has her turning to the defender and Irene motions to her ear. The two of them look towards the direction of your kitchen as they hold their breath to hear anything and Alexia’s face drops as she finally recognizes the sound of you crying.

“Quédate aquí” (stay here) are the words the captain throws over her shoulder at the group before the two of them slowly make their way towards where they assume you are. Aitana is quick to follow, despite the clear ‘orders’ of the captain, as one of your best friends she needed to know if you were okay.

Upon entering the kitchen the two in front of her freeze for a second before they rush forward to where you’re sitting leaning against the cupboards, sobbing. Aitana grips onto the counter as she takes in the sight in front of her, her eyes wide. Broken glass pieces on the floor, a chunk of them already dumped in the bin, a half empty bottle of liquor on the other countertop and then finally her eyes stop on your form. Your hands are bloody, blood that you’ve smeared on your face a little as you hold your head in your hands crying and Aitana’s stomach churns.

Alexia has pulled you into her body while Irene is trying to clean your face and your palms, the both of them trying to calm you as they whisper reassuring words. Seeing you so weak and vulnerable broke their hearts, they thought of you very fondly, all of the team, the three women held their own tears back as they focused on you.

The small midfielder finally moves from her spot and she grabs the broom to clean up the last of the glass shards, Alexia gives her a thankful look from her place on the floor. Aitana makes eye contact with Mapi and Ingrid, Frido soon by their side as they look at her questioningly and she shakes her head at them. The three look at her worriedly, but she only turns back to you.

“Cariño what happened?” Irene’s words are the first you hear after finally regulating your breathing and the older woman moves the hair out of your eyes as she cleans the remaining red stains from your cheeks.

“I don’t know” you let out with a hiccup, Alexia shushing you as she lightly rocks the two of you side to side, the back of her hand caressing your now clean cheek.

“I was just taking a sip or two and then all of a sudden the glass l-like it just popped? I-it was an accident and then I wanted to clean it up” you sharply breathe in as you ramble out some of the words “And then it was just all too much a-and I’m just so tired of all of this” fresh tears roll down your face as you explain and the three of them share a look.

They knew you’ve been beating yourself up about your injury and how much you hated the long rehab, but they didn’t know you were in such a bad state. They’ve tried assuring you that you were doing great, even the physio had said your healing was ahead of schedule, but it simply just wasn’t enough for you, not when each day seemed a week long and you desperately wanted to be back to playing football.

As Irene inspects the small cuts in your palm she comes to the conclusion that the glass either broke in your hand or you cut yourself while trying to clean up the pieces. She nods at Alexia, who gestures to you and with Aitana’s help, they get you to your feet, though still in the captain’s hold.

“Come chica, let’s get you to the living room, yeah?” your best friend smiles at you gently and you nod at her, the two leading you to the couch where the rest of the team had ventured to while the four of you were away in the kitchen. They look up at you expectantly, worry clear in their eyes as Alexia pulls you into her lap sitting on the couch.

“You okay Y/N/N?” Lucy and Claudia speak at the same time and your mouth twitches upwards while you give them a gentle nod, Aitana hastily shaking her head left and right next to you, only confusing the team even more. Irene soon gets back this time with a first aid kit of sorts under her arm and she kneels before you, taking your hands in her own and pulling out different things. Gasps echo throughout the room as the cuts are displayed in front of the girls and you hide your face against Alexia’s neck who only holds onto you tighter, her gaze fixed on Irene assessing your cuts.

Aitana leans over the two of you as she wipes away a stray tear from your cheek and gently runs her fingers through your hair, calming you down. Sensing your anxiety from all the eyes on you, the girls decide to engage in small conversations, many of them asking you questions here and there to keep your attention elsewhere than on the stinging of the cuts as Irene fixes you up. But all of them keep an eye on you to make sure you’re doing all right, and it doesn’t take too long before Claudia and Geyse manage to put a smile on your face.

“We’ll stay Y/N/N, until you’re feeling better” Aitana informs you as you notice the time on her phone lock screen and the others eagerly nod, adding their own words of confirmation and eventually making themselves comfortable in the living room.

You smile at that, they cared for you so deeply and you couldn’t be more grateful. You attempt to move from your place on Alexia but the brunette’s arms tighten around your waist, pulling you back into her.

“Ah ah, I’m not letting you go now” the protectiveness is evident in her voice but you decide against pointing it out, instead giving her a quick kiss on the cheek to calm her worries.

“I just wanna change my hoodie, the sleeves are bloody” upon inspection Alexia nods at you and she lets you stand up though her arms reach out to steady you as you almost fall back into her when something is chucked in your face.

“Here, wear mine” Mapi sends you a wink, she figured it was the least she could do after paying more attention to her drink than your safety earlier in the evening. You tug the hoodie on, inhaling the comforting scent and cuddle back in the spot between Alexia and Aitana.

Your eyes drop as the exhaustion of your emotions and the day set in and you feel someone kiss you on the forehead, you open your eyes slightly to find Irene smiling back at you and you mutter out a quiet ‘thank you’ for her help.

As you push yourself further into someone’s embrace you thank whatever God that’s listening to you for giving you such a caring and loving team. You don’t know where you’d be without them.

#woso imagine #barca femeni x reader #futbol16 #alexia putellas imagine #aitana bonmati x reader

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gaiathemexicanbeauty · 3 months

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"what makes you think you can..?"

(bingo challenge prompt #2 :D)

pairing: re4!leon kennedy x gn!reader word count: 693 warnings: arguing? does that count idk, angst maybe??, mentions of ashley (my queen), leon throwing disses at you for sure, no kiss kiss :(, unrequited love?, leon's a man of few words yall

takes place during re4 :3

"what makes you think you can just walk away?"

leon's voice is icy, brimming with poison when you turn your back to ashley and him. there's no doubt in your mind that he has his gun aimed and at the ready where you stand at the bottom of the dirt path. "leon, stop-" "ashley, you've been amazing company but i can fight my own battles." you say firmly, slowly turning back to face leon to show you mean no harm towards them. "don't worry, i think you can drop the act by now." he says with a glare, rainwater glistening off of his gun and drenching the three of them. you only hum in response to that, looking over at ashley: it'd really only been a few days since you'd been tagging along with the pair, but the look ashley was giving you was like you'd just kicked her dog.

"what tips you off that i'm with the bad guys, hm? am i too friendly, too giving?" you say, crossing your arms against your chest as leon tightens his grip on his gun. he doesn't respond, just keeps glaring at you with this indiscernible look in his eyes. ah. you muster up as much face as you can, trying not to both relish in and repent the way you can sense his hurt from a mile away; maybe ashley was picking up on it, too, it would make more sense as to why she'd been so willing to bond with you while leon kept you at arms' length. "who will i tell, leon? who could i possibly working for that needs to know if the president's daughter gets home safe or where she is? i don't exactly see the locals welcoming me with hugs and kisses." you say, earning a scoff from leon that makes you swallow thickly. "something tells me this is a need to know basis. but i'm also not gonna end up being the one 6 feet under when i find out who needs to know."

you let out an incredulous laugh at that, shaking your head before smiling coldly up at leon; god, you wanted to smack that stupid gun out of his hands and shake him. "i bet you used to be fun at parties. i really don't know what else i can tell you to let me home free." you say, the three of you unmoving as thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance. leon seems to just stare at you (or through you) almost in shock though it's not evident on his face. his features falter for a second, one of those 'blink and you'll miss it' moments and then you see it: under the grime and rage and stress and years he'd never even been a shadow of a thought in your mind, you see him. the boy he'd told you only bits and pieces about that explored a strange city and a strange police station ravaged by destruction and gore. the boy who never had his famed first day. the boy who's job first and foremost was the protection of others.

the moment's gone before you have time to process it, watching leon put his gun away and turn on his heel in the opposite direction; anything you wanted to say was lost to him now. ashley is left to look between the two of you, unable to meet your gaze and her eyes meeting leon's back. "ashley, let's go." "leon-" "on me." ashley's lips part in shock a bit as leon keeps walking, not looking back even once. she looks over at you, worry obvious in her expression. you finally meet her eyes, giving her a smile that says 'what can you do?' and waving her off. she doesn't take her eyes off of you, walking hesitantly before eventually turning away to catch up to leon. you watch the two of them disappear behind a patch of trees, standing in the rain for a bit longer; you tell yourself it's to show him you won't follow them but if he glanced your way for even a second, you'd join them again in a heartbeat.

◦°˚\(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

I MISSED LEON KENNEDY SO BAD, he was actually going to be my first prompt but this one helped me create that sweet sweet drama

thanks for reading once again! im having such a good time writing for this challenge and being able to do small pieces instead of one big piece. i hope you all are enjoying it too! :3

next prompt:

one finds the other crying

PSSTT here's the link to the bingo masterlist to find all the prompts in one spot ;3

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thebellearchives · 11 months

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𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃 🔞 minors dni

~ asmodeus ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : Asmodeus’ thoughts run wild when he sees you dancing at a party

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : asmo x fem!mc, smut, oral (fem receiving), major switch behaviour from asmo, consumption of alcohol, mentions of drugs and tobacco

‧₊˚ a / n : definitely did not expect Asmo to be the second character I’d write smut for but yeah, here’s this piece i was talking about in that poll ~

Everything was hazy in your eyes, your memory had gradually become short-termed. The beat of the bass through the speakers banging against your eardrums dictating the moves of your body. You were unaware of the time, but you did know you had danced with several people throughout the night. Your skin had felt sticky with sweat and spilled liquor at some point but that was now forgotten in the middle the clinking of demonus glasses and demons singing to the music. You drank more from your vodka glass bottle, which Asmo had been kind enough to bring to the party considering you couldn’t get drunk off demonus.

The avatar of lust had been staring at you for a while. Lost in the sea of bodies it had been difficult for the rest of the brothers to find you and hog you all to themselves, but Asmodeus had been very careful to keep you nearby. His honey eyes sliding from your alcohol-drenched shiny lips to your cleavage, making their way down to the skin tight black dress, the way it hugged your breasts, your waist, your thighs... the demon felt jealous. Maybe he should help you get rid of it, the fact that your dress was grasping your body and he wasn’t was unthinkable to him.

Asmodeus wasn’t one to daydream, he would usually just go for it. He saw someone he liked? He wouldn’t wait a heartbeat to bat his lashes, buy them a drink, flirt here and there, see how far could he take things without making use of his charming abilities. It was all a game to him, and if he performed well enough you bet he’d get a nice price at the end of the night. And right now, there was nothing in the three realms he wanted more than a prize coming from you, but he was just so mesmerized by the swaying of your hips that he couldn’t move. He thought about getting closer to you through the multitude and scent of minted tobacco, he’d pull you away from that group of nobodies you were dancing with. Bump into your body and blame it on the amount of people in the dance floor, hold you from your hips to keep you steady.

“You okay there, Mc? Don’t fall!” he’d smile, but he wouldn’t take his hands off, pressing you against him from your lower back.

He imagines you’d give in to him, because who wouldn’t? He had those hypnotizing eyes that could make you melt into his smooth arms, your hands would trail up to his neck. His mind could visualize so clearly the way you’d flutter your lashes to look up to him, your tongue would dart out and slide across your lower lip. Were you thirsty for more alcohol? Maybe for a taste of him? He for sure was thirsty of you. And he’d lean in to inhale your enticing scent from under your jawline, his breathing making you shiver in his arms. His fingers would try and find their way under your dress, but as soon as his fingertips had the chance to catch a graze of glory you’d hitch a breath and pull him from his shirt.

“Not here” your whisper tinged with mischief, his senses would get filled with that smell he knew oh so well: lust.

Sweet, intoxicating smell of sin that would make his head spin in delirium. So you’d make your way out of the crowd in each others arms, skin stuck on skin on such a dense atmosphere filled with narcotics and liquor no one would even notice the way the personification of lust would pull from your waist, tempting you into the pits of unmeasurable pleasure. He’d like to think he’d be leading a little lamb to join him in the point of no return but he knows you wouldn’t be such a sweet little innocent girl. Because he can picture you hanging around his neck like a diamond. And fuck, wasn’t he weak to such expensive and beautiful things.

Your eyes would pursue his until you’d find a dark empty room somewhere, you’d crush your lips onto his and he’d ram you against the wall. The taste of vodka in your tongue driving him mad, he’d accidentally scratch your arms and you’d let out a pained, erotic whine that would only fuel his desire for more. He could only imagine all the different sounds he could pull out that pretty mouth of yours. You’d bite his lips in search of more of that aphrodisiac venom dripping from his mouth and he’d give in so quickly, wishing for you to show him what you got planned for him. Your hands gripping his shoulders and pushing him to the floor, hovering over him and your knees at each side of his hips. He’d slide down the zipper of your dress only for you to sit up above him and slide it down your body. Amber eyes would revel in your beauty and feel like the world is in his arms. He’d be so impatient as to finally know what it would feel like to be yours, but oh wouldn’t he like to let you know what if feels like to be his too, the narcissism and desire fighting inside of him. So the demon would change his mind, quickly wrapping his arms around you and rolling to the side so he’d be the one on top. Getting rid of your clothes was conflicting to him, he wanted to do it slowly so he could really enjoy it, but he was just so bewitched by your panting that at that point any fabric was just an annoyance. He’d pin your wrists to the floor and taste your skin from your neck to your clavicles, enjoying every single bit of the shaky reactions of your body. His tongue would swirl around one of your nipples, and he’d set free one of your wrists to make sure he’d give fair attention to the other one. More whines would come tumbling down from your lips like a siren song, driving him crazy with every single note. But he wouldn’t linger, the moment your head would give in and softly hit the floor he’d move on, his hot breath trailing your feverish skin down to your sensitive spot. For a moment, he wouldn’t resist a bit of teasing, and he’d make sure you feel his breath hesitate. His name leaving your lips in an almost religious plead would make him chuckle, but he’d reward you for pronouncing his name in such a needy whimper, so his wet tongue would then slide across your folds, making the muscles of your belly tense and contract, a breathy and high pitched moan whistling out of your throat. Your fingers tugging from his champagne-coloured locks, his arms holding your thighs firmly in place, his tongue lapping unmercifully, your back arching and desperate moans echoing through the pitch dark room until you end up clawing at the floor and he can taste the flavour of your orgasm, drinking it up as if it were the demonus in his cup.

Oh, right, there was still demonus in his cup. And you were still there dancing with unknown demons. He shook his head to come back down to earth, careful not to let his thoughts drift along the curves of your dancing body again. He walked up to your group and pretended to accidentally bump into you.

“You okay there, Mc? Don’t fall!” his wide smile greeted you, and his hands on your hips made sure to keep you steady.

“Yeah, thanks” you giggled, your lashes fluttered upwards in search of his eyes.

Oh, he has such hypnotizing eyes you thought, almost melting into his arms.

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steviebears · 2 years

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Please

SUMMARY: Eddie pisses you off.

GENRE: smut

WARNINGS: dom!reader, sub!eddie, handjob, overstimulation, unprotected sex, gagging, light bondage

"You really couldn't cover those up, Y/n?" Mike asks, referring to the littering of hickeys across your neck. Dustin's face contorts in disgust. You shrug your shoulders, making eye contact with a smug-looking Eddie.

"I bet she was all like- 'ahh Eddie!'" Lucas teases and mocks making the rest laugh. Eddie only smirks and you roll your eyes, already feeling done with the group of immature boys.

"And I bet dungeons and dragons isn't the only thing he's the master of..." Dustin says, immediately fake gagging after the words left his mouth. You give him a glare and he shuts up.

You were more than displeased with Eddie in this situation. He just let them tease you knowing they were all wrong.

You were silent on the way home, only a mischievous grin across you face, making Eddie nervous. You can feel his glances and cross your legs in a dominant way. He knew exactly what he'd done wrong but wouldn't dare speak a word on it. He just rambled on about god knows what, waiting for a response you never gave him.

The second you made it inside his trailer you slammed the door and pinned him against it. His eyes were wide as you muttered,

"You are such a brat." with a laugh. He just smiled, excited for what he's gotten himself into. His eyes flicker to your lips and you kiss him hard, forcing your tongue into his mouth while pushing him further into the door. You slip your hand under his shirt, feeling up his torso with teasing, feather light touches. Your hand trails down to his bulge that you palm, enjoying how worked up you already have him. You trail kisses down his jaw and neck while unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, sliding your hand down his front.

"Which one was that, baby?" You speak in his ear as his dick tries to calm down from yet another orgasm. You continue to stroke him though, making him pant and cave away from your touch.

"Th-three. Fuck!" He whimpers, tears brimming his eyes.

"Please." he chants as you keep abusing his cock. He's all sticky and wet, his length red and worn out. But still, he's desperate to please you. Show you how sorry he is by being good for you.

It doesn't take long for him to cum again. He thrusts up into your hand and his abs tense. He releases for the fourth time all over the puddle on his stomach while he struggles in his restraints.

"And that one?" you ask. He just whines in response. You finally let go of his cock.

"How many was that?" you ask again. he turns his head further into the pillow, completely unable to form words.

"Hm, did I fuck you dumb?" You giggle, pleased with his state. He nods and smiles when you sit on his legs.

"Want me to fuck you now?" you ask with a teasing tone, poking his length. He just grins and nods again. You smile and push your panties to the side, no need to touch yourself because of how wet watching him made you.

As soon as you sink down on him he moans loudly, the overstimulation making him incredibly sensitive. When you start moving, he's too tired to keep curling away from you so he just takes it, his muscles tensing every time you squeeze around him. He lets out another loud moan and you sigh in fake frustration, getting up off of him.

He's worried. Did he do something wrong? You slip off your panties and sink back down on him. As soon as he opens his mouth to make a noise you stuff it full with your panties. He groans through it, loving the faint taste of you on them.

The longer you went the more his mouth hurt from being open so long, amongst other things. His cock could only handle so much so he cums for the final time inside you. You show him no mercy and speed up for your own pleasure, causing him to whine and thrash lightly every time you pressed yourself down on him.

Soon enough you finally came and he makes a sound of relief when you let his length slip out of you. You smile and try to take a picture of him with your eyes; he looked too perfect right now. His whole body glistening in sweat, dried tears on his handsome face, his hair sticking to his forehead, wrists tied up, and of course his pretty mouth gagged. You climbed over him and kissed his forehead while you pulled the panties out. He sighs and tries to catch his breath with a dazed smile.

#eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things season 4 #st4 #stranger things season four #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson edit #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot

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manias-wordcount · 4 months

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View of Paradise (Satoru Gojo x Reader) PART THREE

[𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝙊𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔 𝘼𝙐]

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗱𝗼 𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗶𝗳 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗳��𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁? 𝗯𝗰 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝗶 𝗮𝗺 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔 𝗼𝗼𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝗹 𝗯𝗶𝘁

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 || 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 || 𝘀𝗶𝘅 || 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲…

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The first thing you notice when you slip into the kitchen is just how much bigger it feels now that there are only about four chefs left inside. It’s the same sight and the same feeling you get every time you’re closing, but it’s still a little jarring. As you empty your tray in one of the kitchen trash cans, you count four people in the room instead of the usual ten or however many people are actually here during a given shift. Either way, it’s always weird seeing the back of house so empty. Always.

Right now, there’s a guy with Toge, helping him clean up a couple of the stations together. The guy is big and loud and a bit eccentric. But Toge seems fine with having the other guy speak enough for the both of them so you don’t put up a fuss. Another chef, one you’re having trouble remembering the name of, seems to be towards the back of the kitchen by the freezers- taking inventory and writing stuff up on her notepad. You take a second to tell yourself that while it sucked being locked outside today in the cold, you’re just happy nobody hated you enough to lock you in the freezer overnight. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. Out of fear or memory of just how cold that freezer can get from the one time you peaked your head back there for head chef Nanami, you’re not sure.

And speaking of Nanami…

“Mr. Nanami…?” You softly call the older man’s name from behind him. He’s standing over his station, with his back towards you. But at the sound of your voice, he’s turning his head with a passive expression on his tired face. You feel bad for the guy. You really do. Unlike you with your two days a week of twelve-hour shifts, Nanami does the full fifteen hours for all seven days. He told you it was by choice. Same way his leaving the diner right at eight-thirty at night, every night (even when the kitchen is still sending out orders to stragglers) is a choice. But you’ve seen how the kitchen falls apart on those rare days he takes off from work. It was a nightmare you remember very vividly. But you wonder if the way he works himself now is even a better alternative in the end. “My brother is here now. We’ll be heading out shortly if you want to say hello.”

When you mention your younger brother, Nanami’s eyes soften. Just a little bit. But behind his glasses, the man still looks as cold and as intimidating as ever. Still, it seems like not even a guy as jaded as him can go without appreciating your little brother. And you can’t blame the guy either. Yuuta’s a great kid. Great younger brother too.

Though with all the stuff you have to do for your family, you’re willing to bet that you’re an even greater sister. Just saying.

“Good kid,” Nanami finally murmurs after a while, before turning around and facing his station once more. He gets back to whatever task he was doing easily, and you’re stuck twiddling your thumb for a couple of seconds and debating whether or not that’s your cue to go. That was until he spoke up again about a half-minute later. “What’s he doing out here so late?”

You shrug your shoulders a second before you remember the guy doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head. Despite all the kitchen staff swearing up and down that he does...

“Work, I think. He’s been running newspapers and shining shoes before and after school. He had to ask for more hours…” You trail off at that, as memories of your exact circumstance start to rise. Your mood starts to sour a little at the thought. Your mother’s pay was cut back not too long ago. And it looks like there are talks of layoffs in your father’s factory very soon. All that with the price of medication for all your bed-ridden grandparents starting to climb is adding up to a whole laundry list of problems. You had hopes that Yuuta would be able to remain a kid for a little while longer. But with the way things are going right now, you’re not completely positive Yuuta will be able to stay in school for as long as you managed to in the end…. “...so that's probably why he’s not home yet.”

As the words leave your lips, you look at the door to the kitchen. You can’t see your brother through it. But you can imagine him very clearly right now. Working through the rest of his homework while he waits for you because there’s never a guarantee that the lights at home will work for him. He spends his mornings up at the crack of dawn delivering papers to the neighborhood instead of in bed or eating Gojo-O’s in front of a TV. He spends his afternoons cleaning shoes and helping out where he can for some meager pocket change instead of hanging out with his friends. Does he even have friends still? When was the last time he was invited anywhere? You remember losing many of your around his age as your family fell further below the poverty line and you started missing school for your part-time jobs.

It makes you sigh quietly as you think about it more. You know exactly what he’s going through. Because you remember very well starting to have to pull back from being a kid around this age too. It’s been over ten years for you, but still, you can recall just how much it hurt to lose your childhood, and you never wanted that for Yuuta. But between an empty stomach and time away from friends, you knew there was a correct answer to choose. But in your opinion, it would never not be a painful one. Especially for an eleven-year-old boy like him.

You let out another sigh, but quickly perk up a second later.

“...Or maybe he’s waiting for your cooking!” You pipe in the last second when you realize that the silence between you and Nanami is starting to become a little deafening. You let out a tense little laugh as your eyes shift around at the other people in the room. Luckily, nobody is watching or seems to be listening to you. You’re thankful, as your cheeks start to warm up with embarrassment at the thought of almost venting to your co-worker right before closing time. “Ah, haha…”

However, by the time your nervous laughter dies down and you face ahead to look at Nanami again, you find that the man is already looking at you. Although the intensity of his gaze has you swallowing a little nervously, you can tell that the glint in his eyes wasn't showing you pity or deep and the utter sadness you used to get from all kinds of grandmas and grandpas in the street.

It’s respect.

That’s why you find yourself whispering a quiet “thank you, Mr. Nanami” as he steps aside and shows you three to-go boxes full of food. One container is a full thing of chicken tenders and french fries. Edges burnt and blackened, but you know you and Yuuta would be happy to share. The second container holds a couple of slabs of meatloaf that just seem to be a second away from falling apart. But there’s enough for your mom and your dad if they had a side of cabbage with it all, you’re sure of it.

And container three has somehow managed to fit two full hoagies shoved in there. They’re squished and squeezed as much as they can be, but they’re in there alright. You have a feeling that they were made with the lunch meat that was about the go bad and the saddest, ugliest slices of tomatoes and onions and lettuce that this kitchen has to offer. But you know once you cut these sandwiches in half and present them to your grandparents, they’ll be willing to worship it like it’s pure gold.

They must be the worst items that came out of the kitchen today. The ones that almost got past Mr. Nanami’s watchful eye during quality control but ultimately didn’t. And it’s a lot more than he usually is able to slip for you and your brother. A lot more than what’s usually allowed by your boss anyway. But there are plenty of good people at Zenin Diner to balance out the bad, like the closers that are here with you tonight. That means there are plenty of good people looking out for you and your brother when they can too.

You gather up the boxes quickly and go to fetch your cardigan. Now that your younger brother is here and it’s pitch dark outside, people are a little more okay with you ducking out before the rest of the cleaning is done. You bundle yourself up tightly and stack boxes full of food on top of each other, careful not to spill anything on the freshly swept and mopped floors. And careful not to get caught sneaking too much food from the kitchen tonight by Mr. Zenin either.

By the time you’re ready to go, Nanami is following you out of the kitchen. You wave bye to Toge, and for some reason, Toge and the eccentric man wave back at you two. However, you don’t dwell on it too long as Nanami holds open the door for you to step through. Just like you don’t dwell on it too long when Nanami just shakes his head at you for asking about whatever is in that small little paper bag he’s got stuffed in his hand that he keeps conveniently moving out of your view.

When you step back into the front of the house, Nobara and Maki are still bickering just a tad at each other. But the conversation about math has seemed to disappear alongside the empty spots for answers on your brother’s math worksheet. But he still looks conflicted as he holds open a book and has his gaze wandering back and forth between the two women. Though as he hears the door open, Yuuta’s gaze is quick to fall onto you. And his mood is even quicker to light up like the sun as he spots the containers of food in your hands.

You mouth the words “pack up your stuff” to him and set the food down to quickly take care of his empty cup of water. Yuuta nods at you before setting down his book and lifting his backpack onto a nearby stool as he starts putting away his things. Nanami lingers just behind the counter with you for a little bit longer than you would have expected, but he’s quickly roped in the conversation between Nobrara and Maki as they both turn on him and ask if he’s ever read “The Call of the Wild” before. Expectedly, both Yuuta and Nanami let out their own little sounds of exasperation, and you can’t help but laugh as the two of them try to hurry along and get out of there.

Still, not wanting to be on your feet for any longer than you really have to, you’re speedy about washing out Yuuta’s cup, drying it off, and placing it in the correct spot for tomorrow’s openers. Besides you, Nobara and Maki’s conversation has died down to a pair of grumbles as they turn back to get some more cleaning down. And in front of you, Nanami is making his way from behind the counter and heading towards the front door of the diner.

But as you’re doing a quick wipe of the counter where Yuuta was sitting, you notice Nanami looking at you from the corner of your eye before stopping in front of Yuuta. No words are exchanged between the two of them. But you do see Nanami reach into his pocket and press the little paper bag he was hiding from you earlier into your brother’s hands once he finally finished putting his backpack on. But before you can even call out to Nanami- whether it was to thank him or scold him for sneaking another thing out to your family, you’re not quite sure yourself- the older man was already out the door and down the stairs of the diner. Never once looking back.

At that, you let out the umpteenth sigh of the day, but you don’t go chasing or shouting after him. Especially now that you’ve spotted just how big the smile on your brother’s face has gotten once he opened up the paper bag and took a peak inside.

Of course, Yuuta tried to hide it from you- having understood exactly why Nanami must have slipped it to him in secret. But you’ve been his older sister for far too long to have a secret kept so easily from you. And by the time you’re picking up the food again and heading out the door after saying your goodbyes to the rest of the staff with your brother in tow, you already managed to sneak your own quick peek of the surprise gift your brother got from Nanami. And although Yuuta puts up a valiant effort to keep it from you, you’re an experienced older sister. And your brother is no criminal mastermind either. But most importantly? You’d be a fool not to know a full-size Gojo Bar just from the shape alone.

Letting out one more sigh, you pushed open the front door to the diner and took a step outside. Your breath comes out in little white puffs of air. It’s getting colder. Colder than it was earlier today. You hum thoughtfully.

You’ll have to thank Nanami tomorrow.

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