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jedi-hawkins · 1 day

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Flower Sniping

The Clones all deserve flowers! Or maybe they think you deserve flowers 😉 Either way, love is in bloom this week for the Clone Flowers Fic Event!

Throughout this week, May 20th-25th, certain participants will be posting their own fics of Clones and different flower themes that were selected! The participants as well as the Clones and flowers they will be writing for are listed below and links to each fic will be added as they are posted! 💐 Follow the tag #cloneflowerficevent to see them all as they come!!

Event Masterlist

Written for an event with

@arctrooper69 - Tup, Rex, Gregor

@photogirl894 - Hunter, Wrecker, Fives

@nahoney22 - Fox, Tech

@totallyunidentified - 99, Cody

@dragonrider9905 - Hardcase

@l-lend - Wolffe

Make sure to go check out their entries too, we'll be posting throughout the week!

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Chosen Flower: Lilies, Forever Lily

Word count: 8.1k (don't look at me like that)

Warnings: Brief mentions of war struggles and death, suggestive fluff, some swearing, reader has hair, frienemies (briefly) to friends (idiots) to lovers, mutual pining, a bit of angst, Crosshair is somewhat bad at expressing emotions

Beta-read by @photogirl894

"So, why are you putting me on babysitting duty, Argus?" You grumble, rolling your fingers over a knot in your shoulder.

"You're one of my best agents, Lieutenant, and this is important. I need your eyes on it." Your commandant says plainly, glancing over a few things on the holotable in front of you.

You cock an eyebrow. "Seriously? The war has been going on for a year and a half. What's so important that the Republic is taking an interest in Scarif now?"

Argus rolls his eyes. "Look. I didn't ask. It's some sort of deal that the Prime Minister struck. In exchange for food and medical supplies, he's letting a single squad come and scout Western Sector 14."

"You've got to be kidding me." You scoff. "Sector 14? There's nothing out there, I would know, it's where I spent most my childhood."

"Another reason why you're the perfect person for the job." Argus says with a smirk. "You know as well as I do, Scarif has been struggling. The trade routes rarely reach all the way out here to us. If the Republic wants to send some supplies our way for showing a few tourists around, why not?"

You fold your arms across your chest. "How can I argue with something as logical as that?"

Argus lets out a chuckle. "Then get ready to play nice, they'll be here soon."

"When do I ever not play nice?" You tease back. "How long are they staying?"

"Six weeks."

A laugh escapes your lips. "The Republic better be sending the good stuff, then."

"They're some elite team, Squad 99, I think. I've been told they're one of the best." Argus retorts.

Smiling, you roll your eyes. "That's not what I meant. If they don't have a bottle of Corelian whiskey, this won't be worth it."

Argus just shakes his head at you and exits the command center. "Outside. Ten minutes."

The squad's ship touches down gently and you adjust your rifle on your shoulder slightly, sinking your weight into one hip. As much of a front as you put up for Argus, you really didn't mind this assignment. It was pretty cut and dry; serve as an escort for Squad 99 while they sniff around the western sector for a few weeks. It would give you a break from the frequent relief missions you were usually running.

Scarif hadn't seen any true action from the war so far, but the effects still reached the outer rim. Argus was right, the steady trade that once flowed from the core worlds had weakened to a trickle and now many of Scarif's provinces were riddled with conflict over the little resources the planet had left. That meant you were more often out running supplies, assisting in makeshift medical camps, or dissolving scuffles than anything else.

Your interest in this squad increases as you realize their ship is a heavily-modified Omicron-Class attack shuttle. The ramp lowers and four men stride down, coming to a stop in front of Argus. The man in front removes his helmet, revealing a mess of long dark hair pulled back by a bandana. He holds his hand out to Argus. "Commandant, I presume?"

Argus takes the man's hand. "Yes sir. Welcome to Scarif." Your commander turns and waves his spare hand to you. "This is my First Lieutenant, and the one who will be hosting you on your mission."

"Sir." The soldier acknowledges you with a curt nod. "I'm Sergeant Hunter, Galactic Army of the Republic." He looks to the man on his right, who removes his helmet to reveal striking silver hair. "This is Crosshair, our sharpshooting specialist and my right hand."

The Sergeant turns to his left, "This is Tech, engineering and data analytics." The soldier with goggles barely glances up when his sergeant claps a hand to his shoulder. "And Wrecker, weapons and demolitions." Hunter finishes, jerking a thumb behind him to the soldier towering over his comrades.

"Right. Well, good to meet you all. The command center is right this way" Argus says, turning to lead the group deeper into the yard.

"So, Lieutenant. How are the military operations going here? The Prime Minister easy to work with?" Sergeant Hunter asks you in a husky voice.

"Hm," You have to stifle a chuckle. "I wouldn't really call us a military, Sergeant. We operate as a Coalition dedicated to the service of Scarif's people. The Prime Minister has his own division of special forces for ‘keeping order.’ We work with him, not for him."

The soldier in goggles, Tech, takes a few quick steps forward to get level with your shoulder. "You use military ranks, do you not?"

Argus steps aside to let you lead the group into the Command Center. "Mainly for ease of identifying our hierarchy of command."

You gesture for the soldiers to circle the main holotable. "Argus is our main point of coordination and connection to the Prime Minister-"

"And the Lieutenant here is my first pair of boots on the ground." Argus says proudly. "You boys are in good hands."

A fond smile crosses your face at Argus' praise as you flip the holotable on, but you could swear the silver-haired sniper muttered something under his breath. Straightening up, a red pin highlights the command yard.

"Alright. We're here." You say, pointing before motioning for the map to rotate and zoom. "Western Sector 14, where you all have requested to scout, is here. The base camp will be a few hours’ ride."

"We can't just fly in?" Tech asks pointedly.

"If you want to jump out of the ship and drop in with chutes, sure.” you say, shaking your head. “The jungle is too dense to make a landing with anything bigger than a one-man fighter anywhere near where you want to be."

Sergeant Hunter glances at his men. "Alright then. Thank you, Commandant." He says pointedly at Argus. "The first wave of supply ships will come in tomorrow."

"Fantastic, thank you." Argus replies. He moves to lead the group out the door and back out into the yard, but falters when he notices the squad's sharpshooter, Crosshair, sizing you up. "Is there a problem?" Argus asks, tentatively.

The soldier smirks, swishing a toothpick between his lips. "I just don't want to have to pull a civvy out of danger. We were told this planet was hostile."

Argus' brow furrows. "I already told you, the Lieutenant is my best agent, and you'll respect them as such-"

"No, Argus, it's fine." You cut him off, keeping eye contact with Crosshair. "If the soldier doesn't trust me, he doesn't trust me and nothing you say will change that." You take a few steps around the table to stand in front of the sniper. "By definition, yes, the planet is hostile, but they're bandits, raiders; people that have been driven to desperation. I can assure you, soldier, I've had my fair share of run-ins with them and I'm just fine." A smirk spreads across Crosshair's face and you narrow your eyes. "What?"

"You called me 'soldier,'" he responds.

You tilt your head to the side. "That's not what you are? Soldiers of the Galactic Army of the Republic?"

His comrade with the goggles, Tech steps forward. "Technically, you are correct, but not many refer to us as such."

"Well, what do they call you?" You ask, curiously.

Wrecker, the tallest soldier is the one who answers this time. "Eh... Most people just call us 'clone.'"

You run your eyes back over the squad, each of them so different from the others. "You're- you're clones?"

"You know we're GAR, but you don't know what we are?" Crosshair remarks.

"I didn't want to assume, the GAR does have a few divisions of enlisted nat-borns." You say simply with a shrug. "It’s not like you’re carbon copies of each other. Besides, it doesn’t matter how you came into this galaxy, you’re men, soldiers first before anything else."

With that, you step past the sniper and back out into the yard.

"We're packed and ready to go, Sergeant,'' you say to Hunter, gesturing to the group of gorsets standing tied nearby.

Tech adjusts his goggles. "We're using equine species?"

You shrug again, moving over to yours and stroking its face. "Only the rich can afford speeders out here. Plus, who can say no to a friend. Get your stuff loaded on the spare cart and we can head out."

Hunter leads his brothers back over to their ship and before you know it, they have their supplies all packed up.

Argus grasps your forearm just before you mount up. “Be careful, okay?”

You give him a reassuring smile, “You worry too much, Argus. My job here is easy. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

With that you slip your foot into your saddle’s stirrup and throw your leg over your gorset’s back. With a click of your tongue, it moves to the front, Hunter’s following closely behind.

The first part of the ride goes pretty smoothly. You make small talk with the soldiers, or three of them, at least. Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker regale you with stories of their life and training as soldiers of the Republic and in return, you tell them your story as a nat-born.

About an hour in, you come to a stop at a stream and let your mounts rest. You watch intently as the four brothers, take in their surroundings. You’ve always liked Scarif. You’d certainly seen a few other planets in your line of work, but Scarif and its dense forests always meant home. Crosshair settles on a fallen log while Hunter checks over their gear on the carts and Wrecker begins making friends with the gorsets. Tech, however, is wandering around with his face buried in his datapad.

“Find anything interesting?” You say, approaching him.

He looks up at you, his wide inquisitive brown eyes filled with excitement. “All the flora on this planet is fascinating. So many native species are unique to this biome. Of course, I researched them before our arrival, but to get to document them personally is a wonderful opportunity.”

You smile at his curiosity. The clones’ homeworld, Kamino, probably left much to be desired. “Those ones are my favorite,” you say, motioning your chin towards some striking burgundy-orange blooms nestled in the undergrowth.

“Ah yes,” Tech remarks. “Liliaceae Lilium Asiata. A fairly ordinary species though, not that remarkable.”

You smile. “Their common name here is the ‘forever lily’ and while they’re not a rare species, they are special.”

“What makes them so special?” Wrecker asks loudly.

“Here on Scarif, they’re often given as a sign of admiration or partnership. They bloom in early summer and also represent new beginnings. My father actually gifted my mother one when he asked her to dinner for the first time.”

“That’s…actually quite romantic,” Tech replies.

“And obviously it went well,” Hunter adds.

A laugh escapes your lips. “Oh no, the date apparently went horribly wrong. My father made a complete fool of himself and accidentally tripped, knocking my mother into the fountain in the center of the village. There were probably thirty witnesses to the whole thing. My father’s family never let him live it down. When he asked my mother for a second chance, he brought two lilies. For their third date, he brought three. By the time they got married, he decorated the entire gathering hall with them.”

Crosshair hops up off his perch. “So why are you out here and not with them picking flowers, sweetheart?” He jeers.

You cock an eyebrow at him. “They’re dead.”

Crosshair stiffens at your response, but doesn’t retort. His brothers look at you with wide eyes.

“Bandit raid,” you say plainly. “I was seventeen. Took less than a day for our village to be cleared out. Those who tried to hide food or resist were laid out in the street. A number of us survived and we made our way to the capital for refuge. That’s where I met Argus, and he gave me a chance to do more with my life.”

Silence settles among you, the brothers unsure of what to say.

You clear your throat, breaking their stupor. “Ready to move out?”

“Uh, yeah. Let’s go.” Hunter says, jerking his head at his brothers.

As you swing your leg over and settle into your saddle, Hunter catches your eye. “The color. I like it.”

A soft smile crosses your face. “Thanks. I do too.”

Once again, you take the lead, but this time your group travels in silence. The next couple hours are uneventful. Occasionally, Tech or Wrecker would point something out and you’d give a few words on it. A couple times, Hunter called for the group to stop, and you reassured him whatever noise he heard was probably just a kybuck. ‘Bandits haven’t been spotted in this sector for years.’

As you round a bend in the trail, your mount slows out of instinct. You can hear Tech mutter under his breath when the old buildings make their appearance.

“Fascinating… Did you know this was here?” he asks.

You glance around at the familiar ruins of your past life. “This used to be my home.”

You pull your mount to a halt outside the largest building. “And it will be our base camp for the duration of your stay here.”

“Do you come back often?” Wrecker asks hesitantly.

“Mm-hmm,” you answer as you dismount. “Once every few moons. It’s quite peaceful out here.”

Crosshair’s brow furrows. According to your story, you all are currently standing at the center of the greatest tragedy of your life. He’s drawn to ask about your response, but his twin beats him to it.

“You said raiders destroyed your village, yet you continue to return. That’s very brave.”

You smile at Tech’s words, pulling your bags off your gorset. “I wouldn’t say brave. It took me a while to be able to come back, but look at this place,” you say, gesturing to the buildings overgrown with flora. “You can’t even see the scars of the raid any more. No people, no conflict, no pain. With a little bit of time, nature came back and healed, same as I did.”

Your response hits Crosshair in a peculiar way, but if you had asked him to describe it, he wouldn’t have had the words. Instead, he moves over beside you and gently takes a few bags from your shoulders before moving inside.

The next few weeks pass with little fuss. The boys tend to leave at 0700 to go about their scouting missions and return around 1800 for dinner. Every few days, you’ll go along to lead them to a new part of the sector or provide information on the area. Most days you’re left to your own devices. You spent your first few free days setting a trap line along you r well-known foraging routes. Hunter had protested your hunting and gathering. He tried to explain they had brought enough GAR rations for everyone, but you were happy enough to prepare warm meals for the team.

It didn’t take them long to crumble to your mouth-watering camp cooking, leaving the rations to be quick dinner solutions after long days. Hunter offered his talents once or twice to help you get a nice score, or Wrecker would help haul firewood back to camp. Tech even provided you with some new recipes you fused with Scarif-style dishes.

Hunter took quickly to you, as did Tech and Wrecker, but the fourth member of the team always kept his distance. Any words exchanged between the two of you were more often than not snarky comments. Hunter would chastise him for it, tell him to stow the attitude, but you knew Crosshair didn’t mean it. And it’s not like you didn’t dish it back.

On this particular day, you were on your own. Crosshair had been particularly grouchy the last couple rotations, so Hunter had benched him for the day. Crosshair’s excuse had been a migraine, so you left him sleeping at base camp with a blanket gently draped over him and a canteen of water within reach when you started out on your own hike.

It doesn’t take long to reach your shooting range. Your sniper’s roost is up on the crest of a hill that looks over a small hollow. Wooden targets are scattered from the undergrowth up into the branches of the dense forest around you.

After taking a few practice shots in a crouched position, you lower yourself down onto your stomach. Just as you shift your weight onto your side to pull an extra mag out of your belt pocket, something catches your ear. A twig snapping, and it was from something much bigger than a kybuck.

You freeze, waiting. After a couple seconds, you start creeping your hand down your thigh and gently grasp one of the throwing knives strapped there. The wind changes and something hits your nose, a scent - the camp soap. Smirking, you roll back onto your stomach like normal, keeping the knife tucked underneath you. You act like you're checking over your rifle, still intently listening. A couple seconds more and another twig snaps. Fast as lightning you roll over and send the knife flying. It buries itself into a tree - right next to his head.

“Are you karking crazy?!”

You sit up, a cheeky smile on your face. “That’s what you get, trying to sneak up on me, soldier.”

He rolls his eyes. “You did pretty good, sweetheart, but Hunter would’ve noticed sooner.”

“Hunter has been engineered with enhanced senses, that’s cheating,” you say, standing up and brushing the dirt off yourself. “Good to see you’re feeling better.”

Crosshair rolls his eyes. “I would’ve noticed sooner.”

You smirk. “You are also enhanced, that’s still cheating. When do you think I noticed?”

“Right before you threw the knife, when I snapped that twig on purpose,” he says, crossing his arms. “They’re stashed in your chestplate, you acted on instinct.”

“Wrong. I heard you when you stepped on that first twig, but I knew it was you when I smelled the camp soap. Very distinct,” you say with a wink.

Crosshair gives you a look, maybe one of awe, but he glosses over the moment, looking out onto the shooting range. “What is this place?”

“A shooting range. Never seen one of those, Crosshair?” You tease back, bending down to pick up your rifle..

He scoffs.

“My father built it and taught me to shoot here,” you explain. “Part of the reason why I come back every so often. Here the rest of the world just melts away.”

Crosshair steps closer to the crest of the hill. “Where are the targets?”

Gently, you heft your rifle up off the ground and hold it out to him. “Have a look.”

He hesitates. “Oh no, I-” Crosshair knows a sniper’s rifle is sacred. In the similar way as the Jedi and their lightsabers.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “I trust you.”

Crosshair’s eyes stay latched to yours as he gingerly lets you place your rifle in his waiting hands. “Not as fancy as your firepuncher, but I've made a few modifications,” you say proudly.

Crosshair turns your weapon over in his hands with a sense of reverence before taking his stance. His form is perfect, though that’s no surprise. Hunter and the others had told you all about their enhancements. You watch as Crosshair sweeps the scope over the range, taking inventory of the targets camouflaged in the greenery. One particular mark catches his eye.

“That one down there, how do you get to it?” He asks, pointing to one suspended in a tree and swaying gently in the wind.

You smile, that target in particular is placed at an odd angle relative to the sniper’s nest. “Take the shot and you’ll see.”

The sniper braces in his standing position and lets a blaster bolt fly. He nearly growls in frustration when the bolt barely hits the edge of the target. “What the-”

“Good shot,” you say, impressed.

“That’s not the center.” Crosshair sneers, lowering your rifle.

“You still hit it. I don’t think anyone else could have made it at that angle,” you reply.

“You show me then if you’re so good, sweetheart.”

Paying no mind to his snappy remark, you take your weapon back from him and lower into your crouched position. You center your sights on the target in question and wait a moment for it to stop bouncing as much. Once you’ve got its steady bouncing rhythm down, you move to focus on a shiny chunk of quartz sticking out of the hillside. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Your shot flies perfectly, hitting the quartz and ricochetting up into the dead center of the target. You look up at the Crosshair, making no effort to try to hide the smug look on your face.

“Tricky girl,” he says, his eyes narrowing.

“Got to consider all the angles,” you tease as you straighten back up.

Crosshair reaches to his belt and holds up a couple shiny discs. “I prefer these.”

“Smart,” you respond, shifting your weight into one hip. “And yet you still took the straight-on approach.”

He smirks at you as you stand up. “Thought it’d be best to be direct with you.”

“Oh yeah, what about?”

“I don’t get you,” he says plainly.

Your brow scrunches as you lean your rifle against a nearby tree. “What’s there to get?”

“Everything about you.” He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his silver hair. “I saw you when those scavengers came up on us scouting last week. You stared down the barrel of their weapons and tried to negotiate our way out. Then when they turned, you didn’t even flinch. You’re a good hunter, you’ve been feeding us this entire trip; yet you cleaned the wound on that kybuck’s flank and let it go instead of taking the easy score. Even with me, I- I can’t figure you out, nothing gets to you.”

It takes you a second to realize that’s the most words Crosshair has ever spoken to you, and they didn’t even come with a childish jab. You just shrug. “I learned it's best to make the most you can with what you’ve got. I try to give everyone a chance, no matter how we meet and I don’t take more than what I need. I don’t have time to let things get to me; there are much more important, more worthwhile things to be taken care of. And if I can’t let something go, I bring it here,” you finish, glancing out at your shooting range.

Crosshair looks you up and down a couple times, then turns his back to you to face the range. Then he speaks, so softly you barely catch it, “Do you mind if I let some things go here?”

A soft smile crosses your face. “Of course. Here.” You reach back over and hold your rifle out to him, which he takes without looking at you.

You can see his muscles shift as he lowers himself to the ground. Not wanting to intrude, you take a few steps back up the trail.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, uh I was just going to go get some water from the stream, check my snares,” you respond, covering your true intentions.

“You won’t have your rifle,” Crosshair mutters.

“I have my side arm, I’ll be fine,” you reassure him.

A soft sigh drifts from his figure laying on the forest floor. “Please… stay. I can check the snares with you later.”

You try to hide your smile as you gently lower yourself to the ground, resting your back against a tree as Crosshair brings the scope of your rifle into position. And there you stay.

At first, Crosshair doesn’t say much. He just takes his shots at your range, adjusting things here and there. After a while, you lean your head against the tree trunk behind you and let your eyes close. The sun is filtering through the trees as it rises higher in the sky, and birds are softly chirping. It’s peaceful, like always, and the rhythmic pattern of Crosshair’s shots roll through the forest like a heartbeat.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you hear him shift.

“Here.”

Straightening up, you open your eyes and see he’s sitting cross legged, holding your rifle out.

You take it back from him and move to stand up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, still sitting on the ground.

You tilt your head at him, for him saying he couldn’t figure you out, he seems to be the odd one. “The snares?”

“It’s your turn to shoot.”

“Oh it’s fine,” you say, waving your hand.

You shift your weight again to stand, but this time Crosshair reaches out and grasps your bracer. “That’s what you were coming out here to do anyway, right? I interrupted you.”

His words are so different from the ones that normally pass between the two of you. Not gentle, necessarily, but less defensive. You take a breath before nodding your head, just barely. Crosshair scoots out of your way. If you weren’t so focused on making the space between you a place where he could be open, you might have giggled at the way he moved, still in his cross-legged position.

You slowly lower yourself onto your belly and bring your scope to your eye. Crosshair had adjusted things slightly, but strangely you didn’t mind. Usually it would irk you if someone had moved things on your rifle, but you had handed him your weapon of your own volition. It was nice to know that he felt so comfortable with you and had handled your rifle with such care and reverence. You take a few shots, aiming at various targets over the range.

As you sit up to replace the mag, you notice Crosshair is studying you intently. You smile. “What?”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “You’re a skilled sharpshooter. You even pace with your breath, impressive.”

You rock back on your heels. “Took me some time to get it, but practice makes perfect.”

Crosshair smirks at you, but not unkindly. “And that you are, nearly. Perfect- I mean…” He trails off. Again, You might have giggled at this newfound temperament, but you simply dust off your rifle a bit.

“Oh yeah? Got any pointers for me?” you reply.

The sniper moves closer to you. “If you’ll actually listen,” he jabs.

You chuckle. “I’m always listening.”

He gestures for you to take your prone position again and makes a few adjustments to your limbs. The time flies away from you as the two of you pass your rifle back and forth along with small conversation and stories. Crosshair doesn’t exactly soften, but he does open up to you a bit more.

In giving you some pointers, he’s the most comfortable you’ve seen him the whole mission. Instruction and leadership are clearly his elements. You’re surprised at how attentive he is, continuously checking in that the adjustments he makes feel correct for your body.

‘Every marksman is different.’ He had said. ‘Even if it’s the ‘correct’ way, if it doesn’t feel natural for you, then you’ll be tense or unstable and then it’s all pointless.’

You learn more than just that. Before you know it, Crosshair is telling you about his brothers, more than even Tech had told you. ‘Hunter’s helmet is specially modified to dampen his senses when needed.’ - ‘Although Tech is the smartest at basically everything, Wrecker beats him with weapons and explosives.’ - ‘Tech and I came from the same tube.’ - ‘Wrecker can tell you every ingredient in a ration pack just by tasting it.’

Some facts surprise you, like the fact that while Hunter has enhanced eyesight across the whole spectrum, Crosshair is actually farsighted and he has his holopad on the biggest text size to avoid wearing the reading glasses Tech made him. Other facts aren’t as much of a surprise, like the scar on Hunter’s chin was a gift from Crosshair when they were roughhousing as cadets.

Crosshair even tells you what it was like growing up as ‘special’ clones on Kamino. ‘Clones are outsiders among the nat-borns of the galaxy. We were outsiders even among the clones.’ - ‘The advanced growth rate meant that for a few years from bio age 7-18 our joints always hurt. The bumps and bruises from training just blended it all together.’

You had no idea Crosshair could be so much of a talker, and he even chuckles a few times at his own stories or your side remarks. The conversation was far from annoying, though. You sat and listened intently, basking in his sudden willingness to share. Without warning, your chrono beeps, cutting one of his sentences short. You glance down and gasp at the time.

“Everything okay?” Crosshair asks, his brow furrowing.

“We’ve been here all day.” You say. “We have to hurry if we’re going to walk the traps and get back to camp to meet the others.”

Crosshair shoots to his feet, his jaw tense.

Guilt settles in your stomach. “I’m sorry.” You look up at him, but he refuses to meet your eyes. “I was enjoying it here, but-”

“We have to go.” He says in a gruff voice. The walls are back up.

You solemnly gather your gear and the two of you walk your snare lines in silence. You’re tempted to respark the conversation you two had been sharing, but you can tell the moment is lost, and pushing would be futile.

When you arrive back at base camp, the others are already milling about preparing the dinner rations. Hunter glances between you and Crosshair as you enter the camp, but says nothing. Not even when he notices Crosshair is the one carrying the score from your traps.

Dinner is served as normal, but Crosshair takes his into the building serving as your bunk house rather than eating around the fire with the rest of you. You try to keep that sinking feeling out of your stomach to no avail. Had you pushed him? He was opening up to you, being receptive. Why did your chrono have to bring you crashing back to reality?

Your thoughts continue to swirl in your head as you wash up after dinner and you barely notice when Hunter appears beside you at the basin.

“You okay?” He mutters, picking up a dish and swirling it in the water.

“Mm, yeah,” you mutter.

A chuckle rumbles deep in Hunter’s chest. “I saw you two today.”

You can feel the Sergeant’s implication pressing in on you. “Oh yeah, he just got bored and wanted something to do.”

Hunter shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. He likes you.”

“He has a funny way of showing it,” you jab back, shoving the memory of your day at the range deep into the back of your mind.

“He’s just...” Hunter sighs. “Figuring it out on his own terms. He takes patience. You’ve been doing well so far, just hold out a little longer and he’ll open up to you.”

‘He was…’ You think to yourself. Instead you finish wiping the last dish and flick the water off your hands. “Well I don’t have forever,” you say shortly, turning to walk into the bunks.

Grumbling nonsense to yourself, you turn the corner to your room and your breath catches in your throat. On your bed lies a single item.

A bright orange and maroon lily.

After that day at your shooting range, little changes in your interactions with Crosshair. His snarky comments return, but his demeanor towards you does begin to shift. His morning jab was now accompanied by a cup of caf complete with a splash of milk, just the way you liked it. His hand was now the first to reach out when unloading gear to lighten your load, though it still came with some iteration of a sly ‘sweetheart’. There was even a time you had fallen asleep by the campfire and you woke with a blanket draped over you. Hunter swore up and down that Crosshair had been the last one to bed that night.

With two weeks left in the squad’s mission, you make your way to the range alone, lost in thought. At 0400, your comm had beeped with a message from Argus: you would be immediately moving on to your next assignment upon your return to the Coalition Command Base. A scuffle on Scarif’s opposite pole needed your attention, and reportedly the territory was still severely hostile.

Though you didn’t want to admit it, your time hosting Squad 99 had been little short of a vacation. Just last night, Hunter had pulled you aside and offered you a spot on the team as a ‘Civilian Consultant.’

‘Even though we’re supposed to be a clone squad, it’s a way of skirting the rules.’ He had said with a wink. ‘It wouldn’t pay much, but you’d be taken care of.’

You had told him you’d think about it, but you couldn’t imagine leaving Scarif. Your people need you. As your thoughts tumble in your head, you nearly step on something as you break the treeline into your sniper’s nest. Not something - someone.

“You’re very observant today,” Crosshair groans as he stands up.

“Sorry,” you say, shaking your head trying to clear it.

Crosshair looks down at you, his brow furrowed. “Hey,” he says, his voice soft. “What is it?”

The moment your eyes meet his, the words start tumbling from your mouth. You tell him everything. The comm from Argus that arrived before the boys rose that morning. The stress that’s been on your shoulders as the First Lieutenant of the Coalition.

You tell him about the pit in your stomach that grows every time you see a starving child, or a family ripped apart by raiders. Even about the pity you feel for the dying light in the eyes of bandits you arrest. How your homeworld was dying and there was little you could do about it.

You find yourself telling him about Hunter’s offer, and your temptation to take it. How the allure of staying with the squad you’d grown fond of was near irresistible, but the guilt at your eagerness to leave your homeworld behind was clawing at your chest.

Before you know it your breath is rising in your throat, your pulse quickening, your head beginning to spin, when suddenly your world becomes dark. It takes you a second to realize that you didn’t pass out, but your face is pressed to something… warm. Something solid and stable.

The scent of the camp soap surrounds you as Crosshair presses you to his chest, one arm curling around you, the other cradling the back of your head. Your breathing begins to steady and your heartbeat slows to match the steady beating of his heart under your cheek.

After a while you find it in yourself to mutter “Cross-”

“Shh.” He cuts you off, ruffling your hair slightly. “Don’t speak, just breathe for a second.”

Another couple minutes like that and you feel your body begin to relax. Crosshair releases you from his grip and you feel your weight on your own two feet again. Again you try to speak. “I’m so-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” He cuts you off again. “You have a lot going on and a lot to think about. Let the rest of the galaxy melt away for a bit. That’s why you’re here, right?” He says with a smirk.

You let out a breath. “I suppose.” Then you realize. “Hey, speaking of - what are you doing here?”

Crosshair rubs the back of his neck. “Ehh. Needed some time to think?”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

He just shrugs. “I’ve never been… good with talking.”

You smile but take a step back from him. “You don’t have to be. We don’t have to talk at all.” You say, your words gentle.

Crosshair’s deep honey eyes look down at you. “The thing is… I want to. I just don’t…” He sighs, then leans over to pull something from his pack laying nearby. “Here.”

You look down at what he’s trying to hand you. It’s two maroon and orange lilies. Their bright colors stand out against his dark gear. You take them from him, delicately and look back up. His eyes are searching your face for any sign of caution.

His shoulders relax with relief when you take one of the flowers and tuck it behind your ear. “How’s the practice going?” you ask with a smile.

Crosshair’s face brightens a bit at the mention of sharpshooting. “Good. I was hoping you would be here today. I wanted to show you something new.”

Gingerly, he takes one of your hands in his and eases your rifle off your shoulder. Rather than handing you your weapon, however, he leans it up against a nearby tree.

“Cross, what-”

“Shh” He hushes you gently, taking the second lily from your other hand and dropping the stem into the barrel of your rifle. He guides you over to the sniper’s ridge and picks his own weapon up off the ground. “Here.”

Your eyes widen when you realize what his intentions are. He’s giving you his firepuncher.

Ever so carefully, you let him release his prized rifle into your grip. “Hmm,” you hum as your hands dip with its weight. “I assumed it would be heavy but… wow.”

“Start on the ground, then we’ll work you up to standing.” Crosshair says, his voice steady. “Adjust the scope how you need it.”

You get settled and with him crouched beside you, you bring the scope up to your view. The sounds of the forest start to melt away as you zone in on a target.

A little puff of air hits your ear as Crosshair leans close. "Be prepared for the recoil," he mutters in a low voice. "It’s strong, but don’t fight it. Whenever you’re ready."

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

The blaster bolt is nearly silent as it flies home to the center of the target.

There your day melts away again as you and Crosshair pass a weapon back and forth. Fewer words accompany his rifle, but it feels as though more is said.

The last two weeks of Squad 99’s mission pass uneventfully, but there is another shift. There’s a shift in how Crosshair treats you. After your first day at the range, he had warmed more to you, but now he’s like a tooka always at your heels. He’s not overbearing, just always present.

You’re catching yourself smiling at his little quirks more and more. The way he can fall asleep almost anywhere, curled up in a tight ball. The way he claims he drinks his caf black, but you spot him sneaking sugar into it out of the corner of your eye. The way he’s always watching, even if his back is to you.

He also seems more physically drawn to you. Of course, he never crosses a line, but in subtle ways. He tends to brush against you more when moving about your daily routines. His hands seem to linger on your body when adjusting your sniping form, and you could feel the heat of his palm on your lower back when he steadied you after you stumbled on a trail. His voice seems to drop and soften when he speaks to you, he nearly sounds like Hunter - it’s definitely genetic.

Of course Hunter noticed too. After your second day with Crosshair at the shooting range, Hunter had pulled you aside again. You expected an ‘older brother talking to’ where he either would grill you about your intentions or warn you to stay away, but the first words out of Hunter’s mouth had shocked you.

“You’re good for him, you know.”

“I beg your pardon?” You had instinctively said back.

Hunter placed his hand on your shoulder, you knew it was a gesture of his affection. “You’re good for him. With you, he can just exist.”

“You’re imagining things, Hunter.”

“I promise you I’m not. I know he can be difficult, but it’s not because he’s apathetic. It’s just a challenge for him to put words to what’s going on in that head of his.”

“There are more ways to understand someone than with words.”

Hunter laughed at your remark. “Like I said, you’re a good match for him. In more ways than one.”

Hunter left the conversation at that. He didn’t push, but he would tease you under his breath about it. You hated to admit it, but Hunter was right, you had grown soft on the sniper and you would come to see the effect you had on him. His shoulders were less tense, his brow furrowed less, he turned his face to the sun more. Maybe there was something growing between you and him, maybe it was something worth exploring.

‘Karking Siths Hells. Collect yourself, woman.’ You scold yourself. You shake your head to clear your thoughts as your gorset moves around a group of trees.

Here you are. The day had finally come for Clone Force 99 to ship back out. You didn’t want to admit it but it was hitting you harder than you thought it would. You were trying to keep that armor up, but you were sadly failing.

When you reach the Coalition’s Command Base, the brothers immediately start moving their things back to their ship. Sadly, Argus had been called to the Capital so he wasn’t there to welcome you back. As you helped the brothers repack, each made sure to say their goodbyes.

Tech held his hand out, and you moved to return the handshake. Instead you found him grasping your forearm in a much more meaningful gesture. “It’s a physical form of farewell from our mother culture of Mandalore. It’s a symbol of respect and honor. You have been a wonderful host, and I will miss your company. You do not know how much it means that you not only answered my questions but returned them with some of your own.”

Wrecker was next. Your hands seemed to dance in the intricate handshake you two had created. “I’ll miss having ya around!” He boomed. “I think you ruined the ration packs for me forever with your camp cooking. And Lieutenant? Thank you, for seeing us as more than clones, it’s been refreshing.”

Hunter pulled you into a tight hug like many times before. “I know I don’t need to say it, but take care of yourself. Keep in touch, I need someone to chat with that hasn’t thrown up on me.”

This made you laugh for the first time today. “That could be arranged,” you tease back.

Before Hunter replies he looks at something behind you. Turning around you see it’s Crosshair walking towards you. You meet him halfway, searching his face for any sign of what mood he’s in.

“Where did you disappear off to?” You ask trying to ease into a goodbye.

“Nowhere important.” He curtly replies, shoving his helmet on his head.

You bite your lip. “Okay… Best of luck, Crosshair. Stay safe out there.”

“You too.” He holds his hand out, but unlike Tech he just gives you a simple, firm handshake. Only he doesn’t let go.

You want to say something, but what would be the right thing? The two of you always seemed to communicate through actions more than words. There you two stand for a moment, awkwardly holding your handshake, and your eyes drift for a moment.

When you look back at Crosshair he’s moving. Before you can register what’s happening his helmet is smacking you on the forehead, causing you to cry out and clap a hand to the sore spot.

Did he just headbutt you? Or was he trying to kiss you and forgot his helmet was on?

He lets go of your hand like he was shocked, standing straight as a pole. “I uh… I’ve got to go. Keep practicing, stay alive.”

Without another word he walks, more like runs, away from you and up the Marauder’s ramp.

Hunter appears at your side obviously trying to contain his laughter. “That was interesting.”

“What exactly just happened?” You grumble, rubbing your forehead.

“A very Crosshair farewell.” Hunter sighs. “Look, I know that we aren’t exactly built for relationships or even plain friendships outside of the GAR, but… don’t be a stranger. We’ve all come to like you and Crosshair, he won’t say it anytime soon, but he needs you.”

Hunter squeezes your shoulder and jogs up the Marauder’s ramp, leaving you standing alone in the ship yard.

Sighing and shaking your head, you turn and walk to the Command Center to gather the intel for your new deployment. After sitting through a painfully redundant briefing meeting with a couple squadron leaders with sticks up their asses, you stop by the cantina for dinner. The food weighs heavy on your tongue like glue. It doesn’t taste nearly as good as beans and rice Scarif stir fry around a campfire with a choice four troopers.

The supply depot is your next stop to restock your personal supplies and check that your shuttle was loaded correctly. You still have a half hour before your crew is due for deployment, so you head over to the base stables to see a friend.

Your gorset has his nose on the ground of his stall, snuffling around for remnants of his evening grain, but he raises his head at the sound of your footsteps.

“Hey there, boy.” You coo softly at him. “What are we gonna do, huh?”

As you scratch behind his ear, your gorset turns his head for you to get to the other side and a gasp leaves your lips when you see his mane.

Woven into your gorset’s thick locks are three bright orange lilies.

Your back aches as you make the hike from the ruins to your range. Your last assignment had been far from comfortable. The relief mission was supposed to be non combative, just transport of supplies and giving aid to the rebuilding effort in Northern Sector 7, but of course you weren’t that lucky. A band of storms blew through while you were there, sending refugees into the town you were based in.

Your forces were already spread thin and the influx of people hadn’t helped. Then of course the raiders came. You were able to deescalate the situation the first time they showed up, but the second time they stormed the town with ballistics. The stockpile was pretty depleted at that point so at the very least the Coalition didn’t lose much.

Argus had taken pity on you and said you had a week before he’d even think about shipping you out again, so you decided to go home for a few days. You hadn’t been back in months, much longer than usual, not since them.

The peaceful ruins of your village had felt emptier that morning when you’d arrived. You half-expected Wrecker to come barreling through the brush asking about dinner, or for Tech to appear beside you with some obscure question about your home world.

You had to admit you did miss Hunter, he had his way of knowing what was going on with you without even asking. Though the temptation was there to take his offer and join the squad, you just couldn’t leave Scarif and her people. Hunter didn’t blame you though, he knew the pressure you were under as the Coalition’s First Lieutenant. Who would’ve done the job if you left?

You had exchanged comm frequencies with Hunter, but hadn’t heard anything from them, about anything. Not that you were expecting to. The fourth member of Squad 99 lingered on your mind more than the others, but it’s not like you were pining after him.

Crosshair had made you no promises, nor had you him. You just wondered where he was, what his missions were. You wondered if he was okay, not just physically, but under the armor he put up around himself.

The sun is already high in the sky when you reach your range. You take a couple minutes to go over your rifle, then take your standing position.

Your sore muscles shift as you bring your rifle up to your view and set the barrel on the rest you added to your shoulder plate. You sweep the range, checking the status of your targets, but stutter when you notice something nestled in the foliage.

A bright orange lily.

Shaking your head, you keep sweeping the range, then you spot another lily. Then another, and another. Your mouth drops open as you lower your weapon. It couldn't be, could it?

The undergrowth behind you rustles and you know it’s him before he speaks. "Good to see you're practicing. We need you again. I need you again."

#cloneflowerficevent #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair #bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair x reader #tbb #bad batch #the bad batch #ct 9904 #crosshair bad batch #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair tbb #forever lilies #lilies

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dancinglikebutterflywings · 8 hours

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Congratulations, You're Pregnant | Kim Hongjoong

-> Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Wife!Reader

-> Request: No

-> Synopsis: Y/N finds out why she's been sick the past two weeks.

-> Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of throwing up, fatigue, medical talk. This is terrible and didn't turn out how I expected it to.

-> Word Count: 656

-> Requests: Open.

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©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy, modify and/or repost anywhere.

Waking up from her slumber, Y/N turns onto her back and gazes up at her husband through sleepy eyes.

He smiles down at her, “Hi, sleepyhead.”

“I’m sorry I fell asleep on you,” she pouts as she starts to feel guilty for falling asleep not even ten minutes into the movie. Now the two-hour movie is almost finished, and she couldn’t tell you how it went or even remembered how it started.

“It makes up for all the times I’ve fallen asleep on you during movie night,” he assures her and looks at her with concern. “Are you still not feeling too good?”

She nods and sits up as a wave of nausea washes over her. “I don’t know what’s going. I thought it might be the stomach flu but it’s coming up two weeks and it’s not easing off at all. The nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, and fatigue. I just want it to end.”

“I think it's time to see a doctor,” he suggests, turning off the TV and getting up from the couch.

“I can schedule an appointment for tomorrow. It's not urgent,” she says.

“It's urgent for me. My wife has been sick for two weeks, and I want to find out what's causing it,” he says, heading to the door to put on his shoes and coat.

Without protest, she lets him help her with her shoes and jacket before they leave the house.

Four long hours have passed slowly, making it feel like they’ve been sitting there for an eternity. Y/N's arm is connected to a fluid drip to replenish her hydration while they anxiously await the results of the blood tests.

Y/N's frustration is reaching its peak as she sits on the hospital bed, ready to throttle the next person who enters. She is becoming more agitated by the minute from all the constant beeping of the machines, people muttering to each other and the smell, that hospital grade disinfectant smell. She swears it’s ten times worse than it usually is and she knows the smell well. Her mother’s been a nurse since before Y/N was born. She’d often bring the smell home with her.

Finally, the doctor re-enters the cubicle with a surprising announcement. "Congratulations," he says, breaking the silence. "You're pregnant."

The young couple is left speechless, completely taken aback. They haven’t been trying for a baby, both agreeing to wait until next year after all the tour stuff is over.

Now, faced with this unexpected news, their plans are thrown into disarray. Y/N's frustration quickly transforms into a whirlwind of emotions - shock, fear, and a hint of excitement. She looks at Hongjoong, searching for some kind of reassurance.

The doctor continues, explaining the next steps and offering support. Y/N's mind races, not hearing anything the doctor is saying as she looks at Hongjoong, searching for some kind of reassurance.

Hongjoong, sensing Y/N's shift in emotions, reaches out and takes her hand. They exchange a knowing look, silently acknowledging that their lives are about to change in the best way possible.

"I’m sorry, could you please repeat all that?" Hongjoong politely asks the doctor, letting Y/N know that she wasn't the only one who missed what was said.

As soon as Hongjoong and Y/N step foot in their apartment, Hongjoong pulls Y/N into his arms, and buries his face into her neck, as he repeats "I love you," over and over again.

She wraps her arms around him, holding him tightly, feeling his tears wet her skin. Feeling her own tears build up, she becomes overwhelmed

As the news of the unexpected pregnancy continues to sink in, the feelings from earlier, the shock, the fear and the little tinge of excitement, intensifies. Especially the fear and excitement.

In less than 8 months, their small family of two will become a family of three.

@staytiny2000 - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea

@rainydayteacups - @green-agent - @tinyelfperson - @yeonjunnie – @hollxe1

@laylasbunbunny – @deltamoon666 - @skz1-4-3 - @pinkies-things - @everythingboutkpop

@oddracha - @http-gyu - @skittyneos -

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 days

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Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 2

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major. Kissing. Pining. Lusting. 😁

Word Count: 5,192

A/N: Here is the next chapter. I hope you're enjoying this 1900s Dean x Reader AU. Thanks for all your kind words about Ch. 1.

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Dean visited the library at the same time for the next two days, hoping Y/N would be spending Lucy's nap time there again. But she didn't show up. He saw her only briefly when she came to dinner every evening. However, she rarely spoke and left quickly at the end of the meal. She was always polite, always answered any question put to her, but mostly she kept her head bowed demurely and stayed silent.

On the evening of his second day, as soon as Y/N was out of the dining room, Jessica walked up to Dean and punched him in the arm.

He shot her a glare as she moved off to help Sophie, their kitchen maid, clear the table. "What was that for?" he asked.

"What did you do to her?" Before he could defend himself Jessica put a hand up to stop him. "No, don't try to look innocent. Before your arrival we were making headway with Y/N. She'd been so painfully shy when she first got here. It was all, 'Yes, Sir’ and ‘Yes, Ma'am'. She'd finally begun to call me Jessica, but now I'm back to being Ma'am. And she barely speaks now! What did you do?"

Dean shrugged and gave his most innocent look. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Jessica rolled her eyes and moved off to the kitchen. Sam watched his wife walk out of the room before confronting Dean.

"Look, you know I don't tell you how to live your life. I walked away from Father's life, and you took it onto your shoulders. You get all the pressure, all the societal gossip, all the responsibility of keeping the family business afloat. For all of that, I figure that you're entitled to do as you choose in your personal life."

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "But Dean, don't mess around with this woman. She's kind and innocent and she doesn't deserve to be yanked around by you, or left broken-hearted."

Dean frowned. Did his brother really think he went around ruining women and breaking their hearts? "You wound me, Sammy." He said, only half joking. "I mostly bed bored wives and widows and they all know what the situation is. I don't go about my life leaving a trail of broken hearts behind me."

"How would you know?" Sam asked, sarcasm thick in his voice. "You never look back to notice." When Dean started to try and defend himself again Sam just shook his head. "Look, I just mean, don't treat Y/N with disrespect."

"Of course not." Dean said. But as Sam left to set up their card game in the parlor, Dean realized he had been disrespectful to Y/N. He'd have to track her down tomorrow and rectify that.

To Dean's delight the next day, he found Y/N at the far south end of Sam's property, sitting on a bench in the apple orchard. As he stepped from behind a large stand of trees, he cleared his throat, trying not to startle Y/N again. But she must have heard him coming through the leaves on the ground because she didn't look startled. She looked like a deer in the rifle sights of a hunter. He smiled, trying to put her at ease.

"Good afternoon, Y/N. I'm so glad I found you." He decided to do away with formalities, given the proposition he had planned.

She cleared her throat, but it was still soft and husky when she spoke. "Yes, so nice to see you too, Mr. Winchester. I was just about to head back up to the house, so if you'll excuse me…" She tried to walk briskly past him, but he caught her arm and tucked it into his.

"Wonderful, so was I. I'll walk you up to the house."

She looked like she wanted to argue, her mouth opening and closing several times before simply saying, "thank you" in a small voice. They walked a moment in silence. Then Dean decided to get right to the point.

"I realized that I may have seemed terribly rude the other day. I acted without explaining to you what my intentions were, what they are, I mean."

Y/N looked up at him, her expression surprised and slightly perplexed. "Your intentions?"

"Yes, you see, from the moment I saw you sitting on that bench by the train station, I've known I want to take you as my mistress."

Y/N stumbled, but Dean kept her upright. "Careful." He said as he stopped and turned to face her. "Now, I know that you're an intelligent, beautiful woman. I would never dream of asking you to come away with me if I couldn't provide for you." Dean smiled and began walking again, leading her forward.

"You'd have your own house, of course. I'd give you a household allowance and a clothing allowance. I'd expect you to attend some societal obligations with me. Only the ones where wives aren't present, obviously, but that's still a fair few. It would likely be one a week at least. Other than those obligations, your days would be yours and I would come to visit you a few times a week. I'll always try to let you know of my intentions the day before, but sometimes my schedule can be unpredictable."

Dean stopped again and turned to face Y/N. She stopped when he did, but stayed staring straight ahead. He couldn't tell what she thought of his proposal. He walked in front of her to try and see what her answer might be.

"Do you have any demands you would like to make of me?" He asked, unsure of her feelings.

Her features were flat and expressionless, until she met his gaze. Then he could see that her eyes burned so dark, they looked black. She raised her arm and her palm came down in a fiercely stinging slap across his left cheek. He stood stunned for a moment, before looking back to stare in astonishment at the absolutely furious woman standing before him. Her breasts were heaving, her cheeks were flushed and the anger sparked from her gaze like sparks from a fire. She was magnificent.

She raised her hand to slap him again, but he saw it coming this time and grabbed her wrist, holding tight. She pulled hard against his grip and he let her go, afraid that he'd break the fragile bones he could feel moving under his hand.

Suddenly her beautiful face contorted and she grabbed up her skirts and ran. It took Dean a moment to realize she was crying.

Well, dammit he thought. That did not go the way I planned.

***

Y/N sat in the library the next day alternating between rage and despair.

Clearly she was everything her mother had been. Obviously in spite of everything she'd worked for, the world could still tell she was the daughter of a fallen woman.

Her mother had been the disgraced daughter of an English Lord. She'd been shipped off to America to live with an elderly aunt until she could be safely married off to Y/N's father.

This was information she only learned at the age of sixteen when a so-called friend, Meg, had told her. Meg had tried to hide her glee as she explained to Y/N the reasons why some of the other girls at their boarding school shunned her. The rumors surrounding her mother and her hasty marriage were old, but still circulating.

Y/N had been mortified, but she'd confronted her mother about it at the summer break. Isobel had looked stricken but then said that yes, the rumors were true. She wouldn't talk about it except to say that Y/N should always keep herself pure and chaste.

She took Y/N by the shoulders. "Your purity, your chastity, it is everything. The pious will tell you that your soul depends on it, but I'm telling you Y/N that not only will your soul suffer if you give in to passion, your life will suffer too. Stay away from men."

It was some of the last advice Isobel had ever given Y/N. Three weeks later, her mother died of blood poisoning after a cut had become infected.

Y/N hadn't known how to feel. She was sad, of course, but she'd barely known her mother, really. Her father had died when she was very young and her mother had been mostly absent, letting first the nannies and then teachers at the boarding school raise her daughter.

On top of the rumors surrounding her early years, it was suggested by some that after her husband's death, Isobel lived as a kept woman. Y/N wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but she knew by the whispers and slightly curled lips that it was dirty and wrong.

And now she'd been offered the same life.

As she'd listened to Dean lay out his offer, she realized that this must have been what people had meant when they said her mother was "kept". A man had paid for her living expenses in exchange for…for what, exactly? Dean had said that he'd want her to accompany him out sometimes and that he'd visit her.

What would happen during those visits? Whatever it was had to be the reason people had seemed repulsed when they talked about Isobel.

Her mother had money, Y/N always knew that. It was how they afforded their beautiful home and the boarding school that was Y/N's other home. But when she'd been young she'd never thought where the money had come from, she assumed maybe from a trust her father had left.

But of course that was impossible. Her father had owned a modest general store with two locations in the city of New York. He had been firmly middle class, and couldn't have provided that kind of life for them.

When her schooling had ended shortly after her mother's death, she had no marriage prospects and no job prospects either. No one wanted a governess from a questionable past, especially one who was young and beautiful. That's what Mrs. Oliver had told her anyway.

Mrs. Oliver had been her savior. She was an elderly lady who sat on the board of the school and gave large donations. Y/N had met her at some of the school functions, when the girls were trotted out to converse with the patrons and show them their donations were creating lovely, demure young ladies.

Mrs. Oliver had liked Y/N right away. She liked her wit and her kindness and when Y/N left school, she’d offered her a position as her companion. Y/N took the position and counted her lucky stars.

Mrs. Oliver was still sharp and lively even into her seventies and working as her companion had been the happiest Y/N had ever been. She'd worked for Mrs. Oliver for just over five years before the lady passed away peacefully in her sleep.

Y/N had come to work for the Winchesters soon after, thanks to the glowing reference Mrs. Oliver had left for Y/N in her will. Now she'd been a governess for nearly two years, and had begun to believe that maybe she'd outrun her mother's scandalous life. Maybe she wouldn't turn into a "ruined woman incapable of controlling her passions". That was how she'd heard her mother described once.

But no, here she was, acting completely inappropriately with a man she'd only just met. Acting so inappropriately, in fact, that he believed she would welcome being a kept woman.

As she sat in the library, her rage left her and the despair rose again. She was a lost cause. Her soul was obviously already tarnished and if she wasn't careful, her life would be too.

***

Dean had gone to the orchard first, looking for Y/N, before trying the library, so his clothes were damp and his hair was wet from the misting drizzle that was falling. He tried the library as a last hope and almost heaved a sigh of relief as he saw Y/N's form folded into the green chair.

He knew that Sam and Jessica had taken Lucy to town for a couple of hours to see the circus parade that was going down Main Street before setting up in the fairgrounds. Only the groundskeeper, Kenneth, and Sophie the cook were around. So Dean closed the door and turned the key in the lock. He didn't want to be disturbed.

As he approached her, he could tell that she had been crying. A pain he didn't recognize clenched his gut and he realized it was remorse. He had been the one to make her cry. He had to fix it.

"Good afternoon, Y/N." He said as he took a seat on the couch facing her.

She resolutely ignored him, as if he hadn't even spoken. She wasn't going to make this easy.

"Look," he began, "I can clearly see that I've hurt and insulted you. Please believe that was the last thing I intended. I only meant to show you that I didn't think you were just some easy maid to be tumbled and forgotten. I wanted you to know that I was offering you more. I wanted to provide you with luxury and wealth.”

He clasped his hands together. “I know my brother and sister-in-law pay well but still, a governess' salary isn't much. When we finished our time together, you would have had enough to live on your own quite comfortably. You'd be cared for, and wouldn't have to worry about earning money again. That's what I was trying to tell you. I wanted to offer you so much more than you have now. I thought perhaps you wanted more as well."

She looked up from her lap. Her stony face was still beautiful, even in its sharp, harsh lines. Her gaze scorched him.

"Please, leave. I am rejecting your proposal." Her voice was all ice; it made him long to melt it.

"I gathered that you rejected my proposal when you ran away from me and then refused to come to dinner last night." Sam and Jessica had been sure it was his fault she didn't come down and since he was also sure it was his fault, he didn't even argue very hard.

"I accept your rejection of my proposal. But I don't want to leave. I wanted to talk with you a while."

Y/N just returned her attention to the book she had in her lap. He sighed. He took a chance and moved to kneel on one knee in front of her chair. The closeness had the desired effect of surprising her out of her block of ice.

He took her chin in one hand, lightly, so she could pull away if she wanted to. She didn't.

"Truly, Y/N, I want you to know how sorry I am to have insulted you or hurt you. Please believe that was never my intention."

He saw a slight thaw in her gaze and decided to take it as a win. He didn't want to push his luck so he left the library.

He returned the next day in the hope that she would be there; she was. She was also there the next day and the day after that. The hours between two o'clock and four o'clock quickly became his favorite time of day. Over the three afternoons they spent together the ice in Y/N's smile began to thaw more and more until he was able to pull actual, sweet smiles from her. They were like a prize.

They spent their time discussing books they’d read and loved and explaining only a little bit about their backgrounds - Y/N seemed as reluctant as he was to discuss it. So instead they talked of world events and Y/N described her excitement at the prospect of the World's Fair that was coming to St. Louis in 1904.

She’d longed to go to the previous World's Fair in Omaha the year before, but of course, she couldn't afford it and Lucy had been too little for Sam and Jessica to want to take her. Y/N hoped that because Lucy would be nearly eight years old by the time the next World's Fair arrived,Jessica and Sam might take them all to St. Louis to see it. When she talked about it, her enthusiasm and excitement made Dean very happy.

After dinner one evening he caught up with her as she left to go to her room in the nursery. He grabbed her hand and pulled her behind a large mahogany bookshelf. She looked surprised and tense. He smiled.

"Run away to the circus with me." It was such a ridiculous request that it shocked a chuckle out of her.

"What?" She asked, her mouth stretching into an adorable grin.

"Come with me tomorrow afternoon. It's the last day the circus will be in town, let's go see it. It's no World's Fair, but it should be fun. It's your day off tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Don't say no. Say yes."

She shook her head. "Why are you even asking me if you're just going to answer your own question? Why not just ask yourself to go?" Her voice was teasing.

"I make terrible company."

"You're not being very convincing."

"I'll buy you popcorn."

"Well, that seals it then." Y/N said. "You should have started the request with popcorn."

***

Y/N stood in front of her mirror and contemplated changing for the third time that afternoon. The indigo blue cotton dress she wore now was simple and modest. The puffs on the sleeves weren't too large, which she'd liked a few minutes ago when she'd pulled it on. But now she was wondering if she should have puffed sleeves at all. Did it seem as if she was putting on airs, trying too hard to look like more than a governess? Perhaps she should have just worn the serviceable gray wool she wore during her days with Lucy.

Her opportunity to change ended when she heard the soft knock at the door and Jessica called, "The carriage is ready for you and Dean."

Y/N opened the door and smiled, trying to hide her nervousness. Jessica clasped her hands and brought them to her lips.

"Oh, Y/N, you look so beautiful. That dress is lovely."

"Thank you." Y/N said, suddenly shy. She liked Jessica very much, Sam too. They were both kind, fair, and wonderful employers. She felt as though they could be real friends if they weren't separated by the professional relationship between them.

She wondered what Jessica thought about her stepping out with her brother-in-law. Before she could wonder for very long, however, Jessica linked their arms and started walking Y/N towards the front door. On the way she offered some advice.

"Dean is a good man. You know, he paid for Sam's schooling and helped him start a practice in spite of their father's disapproval. He wanted both his sons to follow in his footsteps and run the business. But Dean knew that Sam's heart lay in the law. So, he defied the old man and took care of his brother." She took a deep breath. "So, please don't think that I'm giving you this warning out of any sort of concern about Dean's honor."

She stopped just inside the front door. "He doesn't try to ruin women. He doesn't mean to break hearts. He's just…well, he's just him. And although he certainly knows he's more handsome than the devil," she rolled her eyes, "I really don't think he understands the effect he has on women. They fall for him, and he's moved on before he ever even thinks to catch them."

She grabbed Y/N's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I guess I just want you to be careful, and maybe put a bit of a wall up around your heart."

Y/N was blushing, but she nodded. She was way ahead of Jessica. Over the last few days Dean had shown her that he was intelligent, compassionate, sardonic but hilarious, and wonderful with his niece. She'd forgiven him for his proposal, believing that he was truly sorry and that it had all been a misunderstanding. Perhaps the way she'd behaved with him in the library that first day had made him believe she would welcome the offer.

Whatever the case, there had been no more such talk and in all other respects he'd acted as a perfect gentleman.

Did her heart still pick up its pace every time he walked into a room? Yes.

Did her stomach flip and fill with butterflies when she looked too long into his eyes? Yes.

Did her fingers sometimes itch and tingle with the need to reach out and touch him? Yes.

But as long as she didn't give in to her wanton thoughts, she would be fine. Dean was leaving in about a week; she could manage to hold herself in check. She admitted that she was excited for today's outing to the circus, but only because she'd always wanted to see one. It had nothing to do with Dean.

Then Jessica opened the front door and there he stood. He wore a dark gray suit that was tailored to him perfectly. His eyes were more of a mossy green than emerald today, and they were full of good humor. He smiled his dazzling smile at her and her belly was suddenly full of butterflies again.

He offered an outstretched hand for her to take so he could help her down the stairs. She slipped her hand into his and tried not to ignore the warmth that spread up her arm because of the simple touch. But the thought came unbidden to her mind that she wanted to feel his hands everywhere. She was horrified and almost turned around to run back inside.

But she didn't. She continued with Dean into the carriage. Kenneth was driving them and he tipped his hat to her as she climbed in. The open air carriage allowed the sunlight to pour over her and she relished the extra days of summer they had been granted.

Dean climbed in and sat beside her. She could feel the hard length of his thigh even through her layers of skirts and petticoats. She tightened her fist around the parasol she carried and tried without success to ignore the feelings that came from sitting next to Dean.

He always smelled like shaving soap, and something very male, almost spicy, a scent that belonged to Dean alone. It never failed to make her salivate and swallow as though she was savoring a tasty treat.

They arrived at the circus grounds and Dean stepped out of the carriage and again offered Y/N a hand to help steady her down the steps in her skirts.

She stumbled slightly on the last step and Dean caught her under her elbow, pulling her into his side to stabilize her. She leaned into him for a moment, her body giving in to the feeling of bliss that came from his arm wrapped around her waist. But quickly, she straightened up and mumbled her thanks before rushing toward the gates.

This may have been a very bad idea.

***

"And the fire-eaters! Did you see them, Dean? I mean, they swallowed fire!" Dean chuckled as Y/N repeated her reverence for the fire-eaters, as she had at least a half a dozen times since seeing them that evening.

The circus had indeed been a lot of fun, much more fun for Dean because Y/N was clearly enjoying herself immensely. There had been acrobats, and jugglers, and a woman who walked on a tightrope. There were musicians and performers of all kinds. There were clowns and games to win prizes. In her purse Y/N carried a small bird made out of wool with real feathers sewn onto it. He had won it for her at a game of ring toss.

The day had sped by and Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself this much doing something that didn't involve whiskey, women, and cards.

Now he was walking her up the steps of the porch and he wanted nothing more than to extend the evening. So, he didn't go inside immediately, instead he lingered when they got to the front door and he was happy to see she did too.

Some of her elation from the day seemed to slip away and she was shy again. Ducking her head she said, "Thank you so much for taking me, Mr. Winchester. It was a lovely day."

"Mr. Winchester?" Dean said, a reprimand in his voice. "We're not back to that are we, Y/N?" He took a step closer hoping she wouldn't step back. She didn't.

He lowered his voice, almost to a whisper. "May I kiss you goodnight?" he asked, unable to hide the heat in his eyes as he raised her chin with his forefinger.

Her eyes widened. "Why?"

A smile came to his lips. "Because I want to. And, tell me if I'm wrong, but I think you might want me to as well."

"No." she said succinctly and he immediately took a step away from her.

"No." she said again, but grabbed his hand. She shook her head. "I mean, no I want you to."

He frowned, struggling to understand what she was trying to say. She exhaled roughly as though she was exasperated. And then she leaned up on tiptoe and pressed her lips softly and fleetingly against his.

When she pulled away her skin was so red, he could see her blush even in the moonlit shadows they stood in. “I'm so sorry.” She said, clearly flustered. “I shouldn't have done that. I don't know what came over me."

Dean’s grin was wicked. "I know what came over you, it's come over me too. Will you let me kiss you now? And show you?" His voice was husky with his desire and it took all he had not to lean forward, grab her, and crush her lips with his own.

"You already kissed me." Y/N said, confusion on her face. "You just did." It took Dean a moment to realize she was referring to the little light-as-air kiss she'd just given him.

He tried to curb his laughter. "Well, that was certainly sweet, but not the same as me kissing you."

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean? You just kissed me."

"No, you kissed me."

After a moment's contemplation, Y/N scoffed and looked at him suspiciously. "You kissing me, or me kissing you, it's the same thing. You're just trying to kiss me again."

Dean smiled. "You don't think there's a difference between you kissing me and me kissing you?"

She shook her head, her expression suspicious. "Of course not."

"Would you care to make a small wager on that?

"I don't gamble."

"Oh, this won't be for money. If, once I kiss you, you still think there's no difference, I will grant any request you make of me." Dean paused and heat flooded his hooded gaze. "And vice versa."

***

Y/N stood in the moonlight, staring up at her own ruin and she didn't even try to stop it. She nodded, agreeing to the wager.

Dean reached out and took her hand, shaking on the deal and then pulling her in close. Even in the semi-darkness his green eyes shone, jewel bright. He stood for a moment simply staring at her mouth. The hunger in his gaze made her shiver.

He took her chin in his fingers and leaned close to her, his mouth hovering over hers for what felt like an eternity.

"What are you…" Y/N was incapable of speech. Her heart beat so hard and fast she was sure it would soon burst. "Hurry up." She said, shaken completely.

Dean shook his head slowly. "No." His voice was deep and rough and he drew out the word, so it rumbled up from his chest.

When he was a hair's breadth away from her lips, she put her hands up between them, flat on his chest. The warmth of his skin through his shirt burned her palms.

"I concede." She blurted out. "It's different. It's not…this is different."

Dean's expression was pained. "Do you want me to walk away?"

The part of her mind that was desperately trying to preserve her sanity was screaming at her to say yes. But her body physically revolted at the thought of him moving away now and she shook her head.

"Thank God." He breathed against her lips before finally covering them in a kiss.

Dean's lips were soft and plump, but they pressed firmly against hers, and the pressure made her dizzy. She swayed slightly and Dean grasped her head in his two hands as he deepened the kiss.

She felt him sweep his tongue across her sealed lips, as though he was tasting her, and she gasped. He took advantage of the opening and swept his tongue inside. He tasted like the apple cider they'd drunk earlier; it was warm and spicy, and she reached her own tongue out to explore the taste further.

Dean groaned low in his throat, a sound that made all the hairs on her body stand up and gooseflesh race across her skin. His hands slipped from her head, down over her neck and shoulders. He slid them down to her waist and pulled her against him while he walked her backwards until they were up against the wall of the house.

He pressed his hard body into her, and moved his lips to her neck. Fire exploded along the path his lips had taken and Y/N was suddenly desperate to feel his mouth everywhere.

She was seconds away from asking him for exactly that, when a light went on in the house and they both froze. The light didn't spill onto them and it was extinguished fairly quickly, but it had been enough to bring Y/N to her senses. She stepped to the side, out of the circle of Dean's arms. She was instantly so cold she started to shiver.

She couldn't think what she could possibly say, so she simply rushed toward the entrance. But he caught up her hand just as she reached the door.

"What about my request? I won the bet, remember?"

He stepped up close behind her, wrapping his strong hands around her upper arms, and whispering in her ear. The low rumble caused the shivers to move inside her body so that her insides trembled.

"Come to me tomorrow night, at midnight. The household will be long asleep, but I'll be waiting for you."

He let go of her arms and she ran into the house as fast as she possibly could, before she could agree to the request or deny it. She had no idea which one it would be.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95@spnwoman @deans-baby-momma@luvr4miya @arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

#dean x y/n #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester au #dean winchester au fan fic #dean winchester fan fic series #dean winchester au fan fic series

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sunshinesdaydream · 1 day

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@the-bad-batch-baroness I don't know what happened to your ask, but I saved it as a draft last night ready to post this morning....and tumblr ate it. But thank you for requesting Comet with Caramel "Do you think I'll be a good father" (I did replace Father with Buir.) I adore Comet in your "Where's Mommy?" (He makes the crying worth it!) I loved having the chance to write him.

I'm sorry I didn't think to screenshot the request! I hope you enjoy this!

Notes: Wolffe has a daughter that makes an apperance in this. However she is unnamed as is the baby and reader so you can insert your own head canon name for the daughters of Wolffe and Comet.

Reinforcements

Pairing: Comet x Fem! Reader Event: Sunshine's Follower Milestone (still open) Event Masterlist: Masterlist Graphic dividers&Event graphics: by myself @sunshinesdaydream Rating: SFW WARNINGS: Childbirth mentioned. Word count: 485

Comet had always been the youngest. From his first memories as CT-5597, usually just 97, he had been made the youngest. In his batch, then his cadet squad, then in the Wolfpack. Even with shinys coming in after him, he was somehow always the baby. He had told you about this, and you could tell by the interactions between him and his brothers. They were slightly more protective of him.

He was the favorite uncle, you suspected because he was always ready to indulge in play. And if chores needed done he had a talent for making them into a game. Comet had an inner joy that had persisted and survived the war, in no small part thanks to those brothers.

Now he was holding your baby, gazing down at her utterly entranced. He had been for two hours now, while she slept. Comet hadn’t left your side since you had gone into labor and you hadn’t been able to persuade him to go get food. He hadn’t even slept in the chair. So while he was holding the baby you had called in reinforcements.

The sound of the door swishing open didn’t phase him, but the sound of his commander clearing his throat did pull his attention to the door. Wolffe silently went over to Comet and gently lifted the baby out of her father’s arms.

As soon as the baby was out of his arms his niece was jumping onto his lap, “ba’vodu!” She exclaimed hugging him. Comet immediately hugged the little girl tight to himself.

Wolffe looked down at your daughter in his arms. “Olarom, ad’ika,” he said with a soft smile. He gently placed the baby in your arms and kissed your forehead. “Beautiful job, vod’ika,” he said.

“What’s wrong, ba’vodu?” The little girl asked. Both your and Wolffe’s attention went to Comet, alarmed.

He looked up at Wolffe, “Do you think I’ll be a good buir?”

Both you and Wolffe opened your mouths to reply, but his daughter beat both of you to it.

She put her hands on either side of Comet’s face and said, “You are a great ba’vodu, of course you are going to be a great buir.'' Then she kissed the tip of his nose and hopped down. Taking hold of his hand, “Come on, you have to eat so you have energy to be a buir. We can get some ice cream!”, she used one of his ways to cheer the kids up.

You stifled a laugh to keep from disturbing your baby while Wolffe quietly chuckled, “She’d know better than we would. Let’s go vod’ika,”

Comet came over to you, giving you a gentle kiss and stroking the baby’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon,” he said.

“Take your time, we’ll be here” you assure him. “She has to get used to sharing, she has a lot of cousins and they still need you too,”

Thanks for reading!

☀️Love & Wrecker Hugs☀️

Sunshine

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To Join Tag List or be removed from the taglist Click Here. You can also DM, send an ask, or reply on this fic.

#Sunshine's Ice Cream Truck #Sunshine Follower Milestone #Sunshine Follower Event #fan fiction #rare clones #rare clone fics #sunshine writes #star wars #the clone wars #clone wars #rare clone x reader #star wars the clone wars #clone trooper comet #tcw comet #the wolfpack #comet tcw

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voldkat · 2 months

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no significant harassment shimeji !! he is now real

look at this stinker !!!! lookat him !!!!!!!!! he exists now and hes all over my screen

a couple disclaimers before you can get him ! ↓

he has some inconsistencies ( mainly the size of his eyes and the thickness of his outlines ) which i might fix later in an update if i get the motivation to . and also i can't test his window grab / throw for some reason so please tell me if there's any bugs there !!

ok . you can get him here . have fun with the goober

#🌟 // creations #🌧 // rain world #🟩 // sigmeji #making a custom tag for him #so if i ever update him i can post there #going to be putting that in the tags list soon #rain world #rain world nsh #rain world no significant harassment #rw no significant harassment #rw nsh #no significant harassment #shimeji #🫧 :: squeegee

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gachaparadise · 5 months

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ahhh the Penacony leaks are really coming in now.

*chuckles* I'm in danger.

#i keep going back and forth about if i'm skipping Ratio. I was 100% going for him but now. looking at whats coming #I like Sunday and Robin and Boothill and Gallagher and Misha and Aventurine and DUKE INFERNO?!?#okay. i just saw that Aventurine might be sustain unit. i NEED one of those so bad.#my accounts gonna be completely fucked if i don't get a good support sometime soon. so like. that moves him WAY up my priorities list #and moves Ratio down :( still dunno exactly what he does waiting for official release to make final decisions #but. if he's really an imaginary dps. i might... *dies a little bit* skip him #i just!!! i have DH!!! i WANT to use DH! he's my favourite character in the damn game!#and >_> is Ratio going to have story relevance? i thought Argenti would get more then just a companion quest but he hasn't #and that kinda... bums me out? i like the meet a character THEN roll for them not the other way around. i like character who matter plotwis #A!NY!WAY! putting that aside. i might just go for the 50/50 and take what i get. just to smooth out my pity if nothing else #i don't have most of the standard pool so chances are *knocks on wood* i'll have something new to work with #and like we are getting an absolute BARRAGE of hard skip banners coming up after him.#i do not care for these women at all. extremely mid designs i SLEEP #(except for the judge she fucks but. jades are tight right now honey im sorry!!)#so. i've got a little but of time to save afterwards #post: misc #game: honkai sr #these tags are long and disjointed but its *checks clock* almost 2:30 am so. i'm a bit. you know.#i could save this draft for tomorrow and edit into something resembling a human's train of thought instead of word vomit but #i kinda wanna capture the moment. this is how i saw the leaks. the essence of desperation of a f2p. aahhh gacha my beloved.

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furaill · 1 year

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#my art #bungo stray dogs #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #Dazai: ''Corruption CHuuya! Corruption! Not swan song!''#back with my ideas that make sense only to me and 3 people #also i want to draw something else but i'm not sure if i can pull it off so i'll just put this in the tags here:#bsd chuuya *shaking hands* symphogears hibiki - whatever THAT thing is that they have inside of them that comes out when things go terribly #wrong #btw I think it would be super cool if chuuya actually sang the poem when he activates the corruption #''oh furaill by the way funny creature they're running from :)''#i know i know i'm late this was supposed to be a ref to an other drawing i #haven't posted yet ;-; i'll try to post it soon #i hope #at this rate the next time i post a drawing i will put 'dear diary' at the top of the tag list bc i sure have things to ramble about

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loverscrossmp3 · 2 years

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thank u for the tag @aeridi0nis ur so much cooler than me i’m in love with you <3

+ open tag for books u wanna read this year!!

#guys i’m sorry i’m literally so sorry i wasn’t going to include any ya to seem cool but i’m not cool guys guys do u still like me be honest #i’m not immune to chloe gong sorry she’s so good and she knows it. i’ve been waiting for flf since i finished ove last year i am literally #insaNe for her xox #i wasnt even gonna post this and #seeing how much more colorful my list is than all of my other cool mutuals oh i know someone’s giggling #anyway i’ll FINALLY get to beautiful world soon i promise guys it’s been six months i’m literally looking at her rn #this list is also a sort of lie cause i have like 30 pages left of everything i know about love right next to me but once shes done i’m #heading straight to sally and THEN trc!!!! god lana i’m so sorry i’m literally getting there they’re literally sitting in my cart (just #couldn’t put them on here cause… well. you know. <3)#tagged

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dredshirtroberts · 24 days

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taking a break from cleaning because i need to 1) pace myself and 2) spread this out over 2 days so that it doesn't get a chance to get too dirty again before i gotta do final tidying and pickup before the chaos ensues, but i've gotten a surprising amount done for like 20 minutes of clean and 10 minutes of Silly Shit.

#the whiteboard to-do list has been a game changer for me in general #like i don't often have a lot of stuff to put on it #but when i do it's really good at keeping me on track/focused #without being too overwhelming to look at #(or while it might be overwhelming as soon as you knock something off if the list looks too cluttered you can just erase it)#(and then bam less shit on your list both physically and mentally)#my productivity hack is 1) erasable to-do list and 2) find a 15-20 minute video to pop on and work to #you don't gotta pay attention to it but finding something you enjoy listening to is a key #i don't wear headphones while working because i don't have wireless ones and i rarely wear pockets indoors because fuck that noise #so i just pop my phone in a central location to where i'm currently working and let her go #if i have to leave the room i can hear it going and i know i gotta go back for it when i'm done #you just work for the length of the video and assess where you're at when you're done #if you did extra stuff that wasn't on your to-do list #write them down and cross them off - or just pretend you've already wiped them off the list because you did them #and since it's not on your list *now* you don't have to worry about it #i used to work almost exclusively to markiplier's prop hunt playlist but i've expanded for shorter bursts #because that's what i put on if i think it's going to take all day (and then i get about 45 minutes in and go alright i finished)#anyway ymmv if you even got this far or were thinking about taking my advice #i'm just telling you what works for me #and of course it's really mostly onlyhelpful if i've already got the spoons for doing shit that day in the first place lmao #speaking of which i did figure out where the extra spoons came from earlier this week #bad news boys: it was the hormone cycle and now i'm bleedin' out me vag again #okay real sorry if you got this far on the tags thank god this is my own post lmao

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fangirl-dot-com · 20 days

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🧡❤️Dating Your Enemy's Sibling

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor/SMAU Summary: How to get under your enemy/rival's skin? Charles answer was to start dating his younger sister. But now, he's glad he found love along the way. He only had to tell Max about the relationship when you won a race. That's won't be any time soon though . . . right?

*in honor of Lando's first win - here's this next installment of Reverse Tropes! I know that Max and Charles really aren't enemies. Maybe I should have done like a Pierre and Esteban thing, but I don't write for them. So here we go and please enjoy!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen.

Predestined rivals, written in the stars, invisible string, yada-yada-yada.

Putting it simply, Charles had an apt for pissing Max off and vice-versa. The world thought they would kill each other in karting, especially after the 2012 incident. The population sighed in relief when Max was taken from F3 and put in a Formula 1 car, while Charles took a bit longer.

And then Charles made it to Formula 1 in 2018. However, he was put in a HAAS, a car that was not really made to play with the other cars in the front of the pack. The earth was saved yet another year.

Well, until 2019 when Charles suddenly became the “It Boy” for the Prancing Horse. Meaning, that he could finally go back to terrorizing the grid and Max. But with terrorizing the grid came loads of trouble and hatred.

And more pissing off your rival.

Charles seethed on the podium as he listened to the Dutch national anthem and watched Max point to the stupid “H” on his race suit. He held in a scoff. At least the Ferrari logo was much better looking than that.

It wasn’t fair. He had the racing line and Max pushed him off. If his mind wandered, it would go back to a certain kart race back in 2012 where he pulled the same move. But that didn’t count because the race has already finished. Charles would have rather been disqualified instead of having to go through the torture of being up on the podium in second.

First loser as they call it.

The Monegasque driver held no happiness in his body as Max started spraying his winner’s champagne. Charles just picked up his bottle and drank it.

Still wasn’t as sweet as victory champagne would be.

He deliberately separated himself from Max as they stood for a picture. The visible gap made it much more hilarious for everyone around them.

When the festivities finished, he hightailed it out of there, just wanting to avoid the Dutchman presence. Charles sighed loudly as he walked back to the garage, definitely not in the mood to talk to anyone.

“Charlie!

The Monegasque stopped in his tracks, annoyance almost wracking his entire being. Can people just let him wallow in defeat? He straightened his shoulders and turned around, PR smile plastered on his face. However, the very fake smile turned into a real one when he noticed that you were almost jogging to catch up with him.

Y/n Verstappen.

You had always been a part of his childhood. Where Max was, you were one step behind him, following him in your small racing overalls. He remembered how little you always seemed compared to your brother. But size didn’t matter on the karting course.

Most of the time, the two boys found themselves trying to shake you off and others were behind your kart, picking up the dirt that you sent their way. And that’s why Charles put your name down as recommendations for his Prema seat after he won the championship in 2017. Because of him, you were able to graduate to Formula 2 and were on the track to make a debut in Formula 1 in the coming years.

“Hey Y/n,” Charles said softly, still not in the mood to really talk to anyone. But for you, he’d always make an exception. And he was supposed to fly back with you and Max, something he was still dreading.

You look at the Monegasque with sympathy. Charles wasn’t able to find any type of pity in your blue eyes (that matched Max’s).

Your brows furrowed as to talked to him. “What Max did wasn’t the right way to race. But Formula 1 is getting more and more competitive.”

The man, er boy, wanted to huff. He did not need this conversation from you. He almost turned around, but the next few sentences stopped him from making any motions.

“Charlie, you’ve always found ways to beat him. If he wants to play like this, then you just have to give him a taste of his medicine, get under his skin. Do what you always do and somehow get around him.”

He cocked his head, before his eyes lit up.

Get under his skin.

You watched as Charles’s eyes filled up with some light, making the green in them really shine. You could almost see ideas concocting in his head.

Charles went to say something, but was interrupted by his team principle. He swerved to respond before he turned back to you. There was a glint in his eyes that you really couldn’t put a finger on.

His took a deep breath before asking, “Do you want to maybe get dinner with me?”

Your eyes widened. Sure, the Monegasque was very attractive, but those were not the words that you were expecting to come out of his mouth.

Oh.

Now you got it.

Your facial expressions melted a bit, eyes pointed toward the ground as you kicked at it. Your arms crossed as you huffed.

“Using me for gain over my brother wasn’t what I was meaning Charles. I was thinking more like unfollow him on social media while we’re on the plane or something.”

The harsh “Ch” that began his name had him wincing. Like your brother, you had a small lisp which normally softened the two consonants to the point where his name sounded like it was supposed to be. And what was “Charles?” You rarely ever called him that, choosing to pick the more boyish nickname.

Although, your idea about Instagram wasn’t a bad one.

Charles looked a bit guilty as he scratched the back of his head. He honestly was endeared by you and your determination to never give up. He found you, well, cute. You were still 19, younger than him by a bit more than three years.

But if you were cute back in 2012 hanging on to Max’s wet overalls after the puddle, and you were cute now trying to console him instead of celebrating your brother’s victory, you would still be cute in the following years.

He sighed, knowing that he had to leave soon or he was going to get an earful from Sebastian for being late to yet another meeting. The Ferrari driver stepped forward a bit, getting closer to you. He looked down at his helmet before looking back to your eyes.

“When I win and when I beat your brother, then can I take you out to dinner?”

You mulled over the question in your head.

If he beat Max before you went out with him, then that meant that he was actually genuine and wasn’t using it to his gain. You also smirked, knowing that indeed it would piss Max off whenever he found out. Your position as an annoying younger sister would still be intact and possibly stronger.

You held out your hand, which Charles took in an instant.

“Deal Leclerc.”

“Deal Verstappen.”

When Charles took the top step in Spa, pride filled his chest when he noticed Max’s glare at him. He had beaten the Dutchman at his home race. Albeit, it was a DNF for Max, but a win either way. He swayed back and forth as his national anthem played and then sang quietly along with the Italian anthem. Deep in his heart, he knew the true weight of the win.

For Anthoine.

He knew somewhere he made his French friend proud. Just like Jules. And Just like Papa.

Charles watched down below as you looked like you could hardly keep a smirk off your face. And it was bad too as you stood next to Max, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there below Charles.

The Monegasque raised his eyebrows when you locked eyes. You just hoped that Max wouldn’t catch on that he was staring right at you. Thankfully, you were right next to a Ferrari manager, so Max could guess that Charles was looking at him.

When the winner finally got ready, you were waiting outside his garage.

“Hi,” you whispered, putting your phone away. Charles didn’t verbally respond, but he wrapped his arms around you. You melted in his arms, still smelling a bit of the champagne in his hair.

He looked down at you.

“Are you ready for dinner?”

Your eyes held a playful glint. “I hope you chose a good restaurant Leclerc.”

He scoffed, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you turned to leave. “Only the best Verstappen.”

The dinner went really well, but you weren’t expecting it to be a continual thing.

And then Charles won in Monza the next week, and he once again asked you to dinner. And once again, the Monegasque set expectations higher than you every imagined. You were saddened when Charles wasn’t able to win any more races while your brother seemed to get better and better each race.

You could only giggle while you watched them still avoid each other in Singapore.

But, the dinners turned into texting, and texting turned to other dates, and dates turned into dating, and dating turned into a relationship, and the relationship turned into an almost five year commitment that you or Charles weren’t planning to end soon.

The relationship saw your brother become a world champion in 2021, Charles becoming a world champion in 2022, and you joining the grid as a rookie for McLaren after a disastrous attempt for an Alpine seat.

Charles had been furious and Max had almost found out about the relationship. The two of you were still scared that Max might hold some coldness for the past. But when he called Charles “Charlie,” the special nickname that you had for him, you thought that it might be a good idea to tell him.

“But mon ange, he will run me off the track if he finds out,” Charles whined into your stomach as you played with his hair before the Miami Grand Prix.

You rolled your eyes and tugged at the strands. “No he won’t. You have to worry about your teammate doing that to you instead.”

Another whine left Charles making you giggle.

“At least you’re starting on the front row. I have to start P5! Oscar has been making fun of me all weekend.”

The Aussie had been such a God send for you during your rookie season. The elder by a few months had taken you under his wing. The two of you had been so close to a win last year, and with the upgrades this weekend, you were sure that you or him would start on the front row.

And then you had to be hit during the sprint, which didn’t help the mechanics in the hours before the race quali. That in turn made your car feel weird and P5 was the best you could do. Maybe Charles was secretly transferring his unluckiness into you.

The Monegasque turned his head to look you in the eyes. You smiled as you leaned down to kiss the top of his head.

“We’ll tell him when I win a race. How about that?”

Charles knew that you were just unlucky as he was when it came to winning a race. Last year, you had been close in Spa, but a rouge rainstorm saw you spinning out on the second to last lap. Austin you had pole, but Max fought you on into turn one, making you go wide. You never saw your brother after the first lap as you fell down the grid. Charles held you each night as you cried.

The red-clad-driver sat up and held your head in his hands. “You’ll win soon enough. Maybe not this weekend because I don’t have any time to prepare.”

You laughed and just brought him in to a kiss. There was literally no way you could win this weekend. Beating Max Verstappen with pole from P5 on a track that he had a 100% win rate at?

Impossible.

Charles thought he was going to cry as he crossed the line in P3. From you winning or having to tell your bother that he defiled his baby sister, he didn’t know.

What he did know was that he was going to get out of his car and congratulate you immediately. What were the odds that you won on the anniversary of the stupid inchident, the first time that Charles had ever seen you with Max.

(And yes, he did remember the anniversary but didn’t want to bring it up.)

You, however, were frozen in your car. You took some deep breaths as you took the steering wheel off, stood up a bit, bent to put it back on, and straightened, holding your pointer finger up. Your fists clenched as you raised them, automatically hearing the crowds roar when you waved.

A tug on your sleeve brought you down into Max’s arms. You were a bit disappointed that it wasn’t Charles, but that would be too obvious.

“YOU DID IT!” Max yelled in your ear, well, your helmet as you hadn’t taken the neon thing off yet.

You really didn’t want people to see the tear stains on your face. But right now, you’d just stay in the protection of your brother’s arms. When he let go of you, he lifted your visor, twin eyes meeting yours.

“You did such an amaz-”

“I’m dating Charles.”

Blink.

You took the moment of a frozen Max to turn to your team. You looked over your shoulder to see that the Dutchman was still stuck in his place as you got farther and farther away. You grimaced, knowing what was to come if Max and Charles met at any time when you weren’t there.

An arm around your shoulders brought you out of your head. The light blue caught your eyes, signaling that it was Charles. He patted your shoulders, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. You did feel a bit of pressure move your helmet, so he must have quickly smushed his face into the black swirls. A helmet kiss if you would guess.

You wanted to turn around to warn him of the imminent danger that was waiting for him in the form of Max Verstappen, but you were led away before you could.

Your fears immediately went away though when your eyes finally landed on your team. Helmet thrown to the ground, you made the decision to throw yourself at them as well. Your laughs could be heard as your mechanics lifted you higher as everyone seemed to want to congratulate you for their first win since Monza 2021, which you weren’t even on the team then.

When Charles stepped into the cooldown room, he could feel the awkwardness. It also didn’t help that Max was glaring at him from the corner. Charles was a bit worried. He thought that Max was fine with him now after they had both sort of mended their weird friendship during 2023.

He turned to you as you walked in, all sweaty.

Charles still thought you looked very pretty.

“Eyes off Leclerc.”

Charles froze in his place and looked between the siblings. He looked at you, then Max, then you, and then Max again. You winced, not looking him in the eyes. Realization flooded his body and he thought for a moment he was going to pass out.

“Mon Dieu.”

“We will be talking after this,” Max pointed, drinking from his water bottle, not taking his eyes off Charles.

When you were called to the little Jeeps, you quickly got into the bright pink Barbie-esque looking one, still buzzing from your win. Even if the two men behind you had put a damper on it.

Charles’s eyes only fixed on one of the cars, not even seeing the third one behind the second. He climbed right in, eyes closed as he sat down. However, his eyes shot open when the car tilted and a thigh was touching his. He gulped rather loudly, refusing to look to his right.

This was Vegas all over again.

Max kept his voice low. “When did it start?”

“2019. After Austria.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to get to know her more.”

“What was the reason Charles?”

The Monegasque sighed as he ran his hand over his face. “I was angry at you and wanted to get back at you somehow.”

He knew he was about to be punched on live television, but he continued hoping for redemption.

“But, I knew that was wrong. We didn’t even go out until Spa. And then again in Monza. And then it just happened.”

He turned to look directly at Max, knowing that he only had a few more moments before they had to go out onto the podium.

“Max I love your sister. I have the ring and everything. We’ve been happy for 5 years and have made it work. Please, she’s really all the good I have left. I would throw everything away for her. And-”

Max’s laughs stopped him from continuing. The Dutchman slapped a hand on Charles’s thigh, making him wince a bit.

The Red Bull driver’s eyes were crinkled with a smile as they pulled up to the parking spot.

“Just keep her happy, or I will run you off the track.”

“Y/n! I told you he’d threaten me!”

“Max!”

“Oh come on I did not!”

y/nverstappen4 has posted

y/nverstappen4 WE DID IT! P1 BABAYYYYYYY 🏆

nothing beats a podium with me on the top step surrounded by my boys 💙🧡❤️

liked by mclaren, team_quadrant, charles_leclerc, and 2,903,940 others

queeny/n LETS ACTUALLY GOOOOOOOOO

mclaren that's our girl 🧡 well deserved

lecstappenshipper this is basically a hard launch

y/nhaswins such a beautiful race y/n!!!!

charles_leclerc so so proud of you mon ange 🧡❤️ *liked by y/nverstappen4*

charles_leclerc celebrations tonight? 😈

y/nverstappen4 but of course

maxverstappen1 I know where you sleep leclerc 🙂

y/nverstappen4 DRINKS ON MAX TONIGHT

oscarpiastri YEAAHHHHHHH 🍾

maxverstappen1 what?

charles_leclerc thank you max ☺️

maxverstappen1 I NEVER AGREED TO THIS

oscarpiastri mega job mate 👊

y/nverstappen4 ossieeeeeee 👊 don't worry, you'll be up there soon! just gotta wrap your car in bubble wrap to protect it from evil ferrari 😠😤

charles_leclerc ☹️

y/nverstappen4 NOT YOU CHARLIE - THE OTHER ONE (LEWIS HURRY UP)

lewishamilton you don't think I'm trying 🤨

mcy/n she's so funny what the heck?? 😂

chefy/n we said - LET HER COOK

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

1K notes · View notes

mclqren · 20 days

Text

THE LECLERC CHRONICLES ★ F1 GRID

PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!younger sister!reader ; f1 grid x fem!leclerc!reader

SUMMARY ✦ you're the younger sister of charles leclerc, and your relationship with the rest of the f1 grid has the internet going crazy [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing, use of the word 'slut'

NOTES ✦ let's pretend the dog i used looks relatively like leo!! reader is 22 years old, and the youngest leclerc sibling. the fc i've used is lexi jayde, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are closed. i acc love writing for this series no joke.

SERIES ✦ the leclerc chronicles masterlist ; previous part ; next part

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 745,109 others

tagged alexandrasaintmleux

yourusername to summarise: these sunglasses were the best investment, i am THE GOAT at bowling, and im planning on stealing alex from my brother. 😘

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user1 Y/NNN MY FAV LECLERC

user2 SO REALLL

user3 how are you not jet lagged rn

yourusername believe me i am (can't wait for japan though!)

user4 so like does she work orrrr

user5 she's an influencer babe?

charles_leclerc that's my girlfriend??

yourusername not anymoreee!!

alexandrasaintmleux im sorry baby, i didnt want you to find out this way 😔

charles_leclerc this isn't fair ☹️☹️

yourusername boo hoo life's not fair mate get over it

landonorris pretty sure i beat you at bowling though???

oscarpiastri so did i??

yourusername listen yeah the australian bowling lanes are a bit wonky so that's why i lost. otherwise i would've owned BOTH OF YOU

lilyzneimer i beat y/n too but i love her too much to be rude to her 🩷

yourusername this is why ur my favorite lily, instead of ur rat of a boyfriend & his teammate

landonorris im sorry?

yourusername BOO MCLAREN 👎👎 FORZA FERRARI ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc you are awful at bowling y/n but FORZA FERRARI ❤️

maxverstappen1 the one thing you could probably beat me at ☹️

yourusername get used to it verstappen 😘 LECLERC ��🔝

maxverstappen1 yeah but who's won 3 f1 championships 🤔

yourusername watch yeah put me in a racecar and you're officially done mr verstappen ‼️

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 801,333 others

yourusername ticked another city off the bucket list today! 愛してるよ東京 🩷 ( i love you tokyo )

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user6 Y/N IN JAPAN WOOHOOO

user7 seeing y/n in japan makes me so happy idk

user8 she's living her best life fr!!

charles_leclerc the second photo was taken moments before disaster 😘

georgerussell63 WHAT HAPPENED

yourusername charles marc hervé perceval leclerc don't you dare.

charles_leclerc she dropped her sandwich in the koi pond and they all ate it 🤷‍♂️

yourusername WHY ARE YOU EXPOSING ME CHARLES. IT WAS EMBARRASSING ENOUGH. FUCK YOU.

georgerussell63 that's not THAT bad y/n but also your name is so long charles??

charles_leclerc tell me about it ☹️

yukitsunoda loved getting sushi with you y/n!!

yourusername YUKIII WE NEED TO DO IT AGAIN i swear you know all the best spots

landonorris sushi 🤮

yourusername mr norris you have the palate of a five year old boy now shut up before i remove your ipad privileges ❤️

logansargeant third pic goes harddd wonder who took it 😍

yourusername thanks logie much appreciated babes 💋💋

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 856,210 others

tagged charles_leclerc, pierregasly

yourusername last slide is very much true, coming from a very credible source (me). loved being in japan this week, すぐに戻ってきます ❤️ ( i'll be back soon )

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user9 sometimes i forget that y/n is monegasque as well

user10 NO REAL

user11 THE RED THEMEEE LOVE!!

user12 the last slide HELPPP

user13 everyone say THANK YOU Y/N for the charles crumbs

user14 THANK YOU Y/N WE LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOU MORE THAN YOU KNOW 💋

charles_leclerc the last slide y/n 🤣

yourusername @/pierregasly my favorite bromance 👊

pierregasly thanks for the love y/n 🤣❤️

landonorris photo credits? 📷☹️

yourusername not needed after the little stint you pulled today ☝️

oscarpiastri lets normalise giving context 😊😊😊

yourusername someone (naming no names) CHEATED at uno.

landonorris I DIDNT KNOW YOU COULDNT KEEP CARDS FOR SAFEKEEPING

yourusername IN WHAT GAME CAN YOU KEEP CARDS FOR SAFEKEEPING??

oscarpiastri yeah...the no photo creds was deserved

yourusername

( caption one: ferrari girls on film 🏎️ + tags | caption two: to all the haters saying i can't bowl, guess who just fucking won!! @/charles_leclerc you are a WEAK opponent 👎 )

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 799,012 others

tagged charles_leclerc, lec

yourusername i hereby declare that this ice cream brand is officially y/n certified (coming from ice cream's no.1 fan). now go support my brother or wtv 🍦😜

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user15 AWWW Y/N SUPPORTING CHARLES

user16 my fav siblings ever 🫶🫶

user17 THE ICE CREAM LOOKS SO NICE CANT WAITT TO BUY

charles_leclerc thanks for the free advertisement y/n 😊😊

yourusername you're welcome cha!! (i'll act like you didn't ask me to do this 😊)

charles_leclerc shhh y/n that's meant to be a secret!

yourusername whoops?? 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

landonorris if you advertise my quadrant merch in the future i'll give you a papaya paddock pass? 👐👐

yourusername unfortunately y/n leclerc's services extend to that of her immediate family only. if you have any issues with the above, don't message me about them!

landonorris why are you speaking like someone else y/n

yourusername so i sound more fancy

alexandrasaintmleux something delicious is in this post and it's not the ice cream 🤤

yourusername MY WIFE 😘😘

charles_leclerc not the public flirting AND being rude about my ice cream ☹️☹️

yourusername hahahaha sucks to be you rn 🫵

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, and 901,221 others

yourusername "i've only had leo for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him, i would kill everyone in this room and then myself"

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user18 Y/N IS A B99 FAN CONFIRMED??

user19 THE BEST SHOWWW

user20 LEO IS THE CUTESTTT

user21 auntie y/n babysitting omg 🥺🥺

yourusername stop it rn auntie makes me sound so old 😔😔

user21 OMG SHE REPLIED?!

charles_leclerc my baby 🥺

yourusername im planning on stealing him from you at some point 😘

charles_leclerc im sorry?? first my girlfriend now my dog??

yourusername stay on high alert charles nothing is safe around me 🚨🚨

lilymhe cutie 😉😉

yourusername YOUUUU!!

alex_albon the dog's cuter

yourusername 'the dog' has a NAME albon, and you're just jealous your girlfriend prefers me to you!

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 822,122 others

yourusername 上海之夜 🌃 ( shanghai nights )

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user22 Y/N IN SHANGHAI FOR THE GP??

user23 I LOVE YOU Y/NNNN

user24 does she go to every race?

user25 she said on an interview once that she tries to attend every race & flies with her brother (& sometimes his girlfriend alex) whenever she does go to them! she couldn't make jeddah this year because she had other commitments at the time, but she tries to go to most of them!

user26 Y/N LECLERC IS THAT A MAN IN UR SECOND PIC??

user27 SOFT LAUNCH MAYBEEE??

charles_leclerc y/n i don't recognise that second pic? 🤔🤔

yourusername charles calm down it's literally a friend

charles_leclerc why not tag him then??

yourusername as a nice FRIEND, i actually value his life so im trying to save him from you, arthur and lorenzo ❤️

lance_stroll I MISS YOU

lance_stroll this is marilou by the way ive lost my own phone 😔

yourusername MARILOUUU MY ANGELLL I LOVE YOU!! leave ur boyfriend for me

lance_stroll y/n im back what is this.

yourusername idc about you tell marilou to come over

iamrebeccad in awe of you forever 🤩

yourusername love you becca ❤️

imessages ( y/n )

maxverstappen1

( caption: pov - mr world champion x3 gets his phone robbed by a 22 year old girl who enjoys harassing people on the daily 😘 [...] @/yourusername FOLLOW ME NOWWWW (please) )

yourusername

( caption: me when max asks me why i stole his phone, promoted my instagram account and then left [...] @/maxverstappen1 sorry about that 😬💗 )

imessages ( y/n )

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 800,100 others

yourusername cali this week, miami next ✈️

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user28 i swear i'd sell my soul to live your life y/n

user29 she's actually stunninggg

user30 Y/NNN MY ANGEL FR

user31 hottest leclerc (real)

georgerussell63 you after stalking me and carmen to california??

landonorris SORRY?

yourusername okay guys lets clear up the rumours!! 😁😁 i actually got invited to an EVENT in california, and george and carmen happened to be there, so like yes, i have been with them but i did NOTTT stalk them guys im not about that lifestyle

georgerussell63 yeah but like how do i know you're not watching me while i sleep 🤔

yourusername that's the whole beauty of it, you'll never EVER know 😁

carmenmmundt come over please george is annoying me

yourusername omw bbg 😘😘

georgerussell63 betrayal 101

alexandrasaintmleux missing you rn 😔😔

charles_leclerc you're literally with me right now??

alexandrasaintmleux yeah and im missing your sister??

yourusername I LOVE YOU ALEX im seeing you soon trust

logansargeant come to miami quicker you promised i could show you all the best spots :(

yourusername I SWEAR IM ON MY WAY LOGANNN

logansargeant

( caption: i let y/n in my house and the first thing she does is pull out her diary to document our day [...] @/yourusername least you could do is say "thanks for letting me in" ☹️ )

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 835,100 others

tagged logansargeant

yourusername bro said "i know a spot" and took me to a lake.

view all comments

user32 THE CAPTION SCREAMINGGG

user33 that's so logan i actually cant HELP

user34 the second pic 🤣

user35 y/n after third wheeling:

charles_leclerc so this is why you wouldn't go on a walk with me

yourusername maybe i shouldve gone on that walk idk, logan is a bit of a reckless boat driver

logansargeant IM NOT??

yourusername logan babe, we were coming up to a rock and you shouted 'land ahoy', i have reason to be scared ❤️

oscarpiastri HELP LAND AHOY?? ARE YOU A PIRATE LOGAN

logansargeant IT WAS A JOKE OKAY PARDON ME FOR MY HUMOR

yourusername 'pardon me' aren't we getting posh!

logansargeant dont lie you had a great time

yourusername define "great time"...because i sat there and sunbathed for like three hours while you caught a couple of 'beauties'

logansargeant and then you ate one of those beauties for dinner??

yourusername best part of the entire thing your mom makes a mean fish yum yum 😋😋

user36 AW SHE WENT TO HIS HOUSE

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 900,221 others

tagged landonorris, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1

yourusername LANDO NOWINS BRCOMES LANDO WIQH WINSSSS 😁😁🏆🏆 so hqppy for you rihht now, and for max & charles and their podium!! ❤️

view all comments

user37 reason no.1209212 as to why y/n is the best:

user38 THIS POST AWWW

user39 the way she's so proud of him and her brother 🥺🥺

user40 and max!!

landonorris couldn't have a post without charles and max featuring huh 😔

yourusername unfortunately charles IS my brother, and max IS my friend as well, so im legally obliged to celebrate with both of them too

landonorris yeah but...my first win ☹️

yourusername next win trust i'll dedicate an entire post to you babes ❤️

charles_leclerc the spelling y/n 🤣🤣

yourusername I WAS DRUNK OKAY BLAME MAX

maxverstappen1 BLAME ME HUH

yourusername YOU GOT ME DRUNK MATE

charles_leclerc absolutely shocking behaviour from a world champion

yourusername RIGHT??

maxverstappen1 how come i never get these sort of posts when i win

yourusername would you like one next time maxie?? 😁

maxverstappen1 please 😔

yourusername watch its coming 🔥🔥🔥

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TAGS ✦ @willowpains ; @landossainz ; @charlesgirl16 ; @mellowarcadefun ; @bearryyyy ; [ respond under this post OR the main page for this series to be added to the taglist for 'the leclerc chronicles'! ]

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willsdreamgirl · 9 months

Text

“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy shelby x fem!reader

you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)

18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut

cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink

word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)

a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌

you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.

you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.

your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.

they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.

everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.

when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.

your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.

a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.

what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”

tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.

a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”

it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.

needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.

when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.

the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.

dearest y/n,

i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?

all my love,

tommy shelby.

you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.

dearest tommy,

to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.

only yours,

y/n.

tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.

that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.

4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.

“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.

after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”

your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”

he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.

he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”

you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”

“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.

things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.

ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.

you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.

he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.

“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.

“mornin’, sweetheart.”

4K notes · View notes

smutoperator · 4 months

Note

Karina shower smut please

Spicy Illusions

Yu Jimin (Karina) x Male Reader

Tags: ahegao, bratty son, choking, creampie, dildo, real or not?, shower sex, stupid cheese cat, throwback, titfucking

Word count: 3496.

Karina had you in a chokehold. You could go all day watching her fancams and drooling at every move she made. Your favorite ones were those of the Spicy era, where Karina had her blonde hair. Her iconic Salty & Sweet fancam was at the top of your list.

"Run, run, run, kitty, kitty, run, run," you repeated her words from the song, mesmerized at the bounce of Karina's boobs. So much so that your mom had to intervene, seeing her soon looking like an addict. "All you can do these days is watch those fucking fancams all day; you should get a job." However, you were so into Karina that you had started seeing her figure in your mother's body. "It turns me on so much when you watch me dance," Karina said in your imagination. "I want to watch myself with you," she kept saying, as you could only look at her massive bazookas on her chest.

You were on the verge of kissing her before your mom started yelling, "What the hell are you doing?" as you were instead trying to kiss her. "Sorry, mom, I'm not feeling well," you replied. "I think I need to take a shower," you continued. "Then make sure to clean it too," your mom replied.

You headed to the shower with a bucket on your hands, leaving it right in the box as you started cleaning it. However, it wasn't long before you heard some water noises coming out of it. Suddenly, you found a naked, pink-haired woman inside taking a shower. You scanned her body from bottom to top, mesmerized by her amazing figure, but obviously, her saggy, massive melons, fully covered in foam, were what caught your attention the most, especially as she grabbed them to wash her milkers. Karina smiled at you and moved her body, as you could only watch in disbelief at what you were seeing. It had to be an illusion. The way she touched herself already turned you hard in an instant; your eyes were fully fixated on those big boobs, and the way she washed her pussy and pressed her tits against the box, printing its marks on it, was so sexy.

You closed your eyes, and suddenly she was gone. You got back to doing your cleaning affairs, using the bathroom's sink to put some water in your eyes, but just as you looked in the mirror and saw the shower on it, Karina was back inside it, on her knees as she now had a bright pink phallic object in her mouth, sucking it as she played with her tits. You walked towards the box, staring at the foggy glass as Rina got up. She now turned around, continuing her little sexy show as she inserted the pink dildo in her pussy and pushed it up and down her hole. You touched the glass right where her butt was placed as you kept watching her, seeing as she made naughty moves with her tongue like a stupid cheese cat and kept pressing her body against the glass.

Karina got back to facing you as she closed her eyes and put her tongue out, licking the glass close to your face on the other side. She then got once again back on her knees, and that was too much for you to endure. You rapidly took all your clothes off as Karina gave you a sign to come in, opening the door and joining her inside that ample shower box. Her eyes brightened as she stayed in that submissive position, grabbing your cock from the start and licking her chops at the size of it, sticking her warm mouth at your veiny pole. You just pin yourself to the wall and watch her do the work. Everything about Karina feels amazing to you—the way she grabs your cock, the way her naughty eyes look while doing it, and the way she grabs one of her boobs with her left hand, trying to prevent gravity from letting it drop to the ground.

Karina kept licking your shaft, just putting it halfway in her mouth to tease you. She moves to your balls and cleans them with her mouth before giving your shaft a full top-to-bottom lick, then throating it as she firmly grabs it. The water keeps running, but this is no longer your problem; just let your bitchy mom pay for it anyway. "That's good," you tell Rina, who starts moving her mouth faster while you just enjoy the show, as she now sucks your cock without using any hands before wrapping them around your balls.

You tell Karina to get up as you want to take a closer look at her huge bazookas, grabbing her boobs to massage them from behind, pressing them together, and rubbing her nipples. You then run down her amazing body all the way to her pussy, but without touching it yet, adding an extra layer of soap to her beautiful tummy before going back to her grand prize. Her tits are soft and sturggle with gravity, your hands keeping them up as you also kiss her neck and collarbones. "Hmm, baby, I see you love my big, beautiful tiddies," Rina says with a smile on her face. She knows how much they grab men's attention and how much they like to grab them.

You grope her boobs harder, massaging them as the water running from the shower hits the sides of both your bodies. Your hands are fully covered in soap as they move around every inch of Karina's body, but her melons get the majority of your attention. You now pin Rina against the wall as she grabs your cock with her left hand while her right hand rests on her boobs. You look at them like a baby about to get fed by his mother, diving your head to suck her milk to the fullest, making Rina elicit a sexy moan.

But she had better things to do with her time, as Karina got back on her knees and poured liquid soap all the way over her bazookas. "I want you to clean it," she says, placing your cock between her big honkers. You get the assignment, thrusting your cock between her heavenly melons with all your might as she smiles at you. "That's very hot," she compliments as she presses her boobs harder and tightens them around your cock. You take advantage of it to the fullest, also rubbing your tip on her hard nipples.

Karina gets up as soon as you give her ass a little tap. She bends over as she sticks the pink dildo back in her mouth while you penetrate her, getting spit-roasted from the start. The deeper you stick your cock inside her, the deeper she throats her dildo. "I love that big dick stretching my pussy," she says on the rare occasion she takes her mouth off the dildo, gagging on it as she grabs her boobs while you slowly fuck her cunt. "That pussy is so tight," you say as Karina's moans are muffled by the dildo. You finally push harder, making her saggy melons bounce as gravity tries to rip them off Rina's body, her nipples pointing right at the wet box floor.

Your sudden increase takes Rina by surprise, making her spit on the dildo. "Oh, that feels so fucking good," she exclaims. You make her feel even better as you hit her cervix, leading her to scream for the first time. You take Karina right at her weakest and pin her against the glass, her boobs now fully smashed against it as you mercilessly pound her. The sound of your balls clapping against her body is mixed with the wet water running down them, making a splash every time you pump your cock deep into her pussy. "That's such a big dick," she exclaims.

You move to the center of the shower to take a little break, but Rina is relentless, riding you in a standing position as she pushes your body up against yours. Meanwhile, you firmly grab her tits and use the liquid soap in her leg area, covering her thighs full of it as you massage them. "Look how I make your cock nice and clean," Karina says as she keeps bouncing, her saggy tits moving in perfect sync while you give her ass a few spankings. "Oh, that's so hoy," she says, wrapping her left arm around her tits to prevent them from falling out and then getting your help as you're now the one groping them. "You're so damn good inside me," she says.

Karina now bends over, facing the opposite side of the box, letting the water clean the soap from her ass, moaning as the flow of water penetrates her pussy and asshole. But she's about to moan much harder as your wet cock goes back in, hitting the puddle inside her vaginal walls. You tease Rina by rubbing your tip against her wet clit (in both senses) before steadily stretching her pussy out as water hits your shaft and your shaft hits her walls to the fullest. "Ohhh, this shower is making me even wetter," Karina says as you groan with your cock stretching her tight holes.

Rina turns things a little spicier, adding the liquid soap all over her ass. "Grab it and wash it," she demands. You do it as she pleases, washing her ass with your hands while your cock washes her pink pussy. "Perfect, just like how I wanted it; give it to me; push it harder," Karina says as you keep going, even letting her move her hips against you before pushing harder. "I love the way you stick it deep in my pussy," she continues.

You poke Rina's melons, telling her you want to switch positions. It's time to test her dancer's flexibility. But not before Rina's sucks your cock dry of her juices. "It looks like it's dirty again," she laughs, sucking it off while hard-grabbing it with her right hand. Karina keeps going, getting sloppier as she goes, until she says these words: "Looks like it's clean again." She places her right leg on your left shoulder, naughtily telling you that you can put it back in. The angle of her body leads to an easy thrust and a perfect deep penetration from the start, as your throbbing cock bulges under Karina's slim body.

"Holy shit!" Karina screams as she looks at you, your cock filling her pussy and draining all the water inside it, cleaning her walls to the fullest as you strike hard and deep against them. You wrap your hands in her waist to make sure she doesn't slip out, but Rina has great body control and loves to take a deep pounding in one leg, getting sent over the moon at each pump. "I love that; it's really deep," she claims. "Push it harder in my pussy," she continues, as her tits got back to bouncing beautifully, turning you on and leading to faster thursts as you want to watch them quake every time you impale her. "Damn, you got such a perfect cock," she screams as your dick is now deeply buried in Karina's vagina, to the point where it takes a long time to pull out fully.

You then push Karina close to the showerhead as she holds herself with her hands and her back gets showered while you keep fucking her in one leg as she gets overwhelmed with your hard and deep thursts while the showering in the back turns her on even more as the water hits her erogenous spots. She gives you a passionate kiss as you wrap your body closer to hers. Karina now holds her lifted leg against the glass as she tries to keep her balance in spite of your fast pumping in her pussy, wrapping your arms around you as her butt presses the glass. You look at her right in the eye, kissing her as she squeals every time you hit her cervix.

You finally put Karina's right leg back on the ground, making love with her in an eye-to-eye position where you kiss her tenderly while grabbing her sexy ass as you continue to stretch her pussy, pushing so hard that your dick pops out, landing right between her thighs. You seize the opportunity as you keep doing the same thing but now pushing it between Karina's long, sexy legs as she closes them to grip it tighter.

After you're done with Rina's honey thighs, you turn her around, pushing her face close to the wall and pointing the showehead straight to her tits, cleaning them as they freely bounce while you manhandle her pussy. "Fuck me like that; destroy my pussy," she asks, and you oblige, clapping her cheeks hard each time you go in and out of her hole. "Right there, right there!" she exclaims when you spank her ass multiple times, her stupid tongue coming out of her mouth. "Oh fuck, fuck, shit, shit," she curses like music to your ears as you hug her by the tummy, pressing your thumb on her belly button while pounding her faster at each attack, making Karina roll her eyes and open her mouth like she's doing a real-life ahegao that gets even better when you grope her tits, leading her to stick her tongue out in a way that makes her look like a dumb fuckdoll, with some sticky saliva also coming out of her mouth as you lick her long neck from top to bottom.

As soon as you feel like Karina's bazookas are clean enough, you're ready to switch positions. "Get on that fucking floor," you command her as you pin Karina's back against it and give her a pounding in mating press, pressing her legs hard against her milkers. The water hitting against your back makes you push deeper while flooding starts to build under Rina's back, her body "floating" on top of it and then drowing as the thrusts of your cock push it against the rising water, her dumb expressions leading you to slap her face. "You're really a stupid cheese cat," you tell her.

After some rough poundings, you switch to something more romantic, putting Karina in a spooning position on the floor. The water accumulating under you two is enough to cover half of her right boob as you give her a slow and watery fuck, groping both her tits from behind, giving her romantic kisses, and making sure to stimulate every single one of her soft spots, but especially her boobs and neck. But your primal instincts of dominance aren't gone for long as you switch to a fast jackhammering of her pussy that makes waves under her body while choking her, something Karina loves as her nipples get even more erect. "Give me, give me, more, more more," she begs as she struggles to let those words out while you firmly grab her neck and press her left boob before letting them freely bounce, leading to more dumb expressions coming from Karina's face as this whole pounding makes her cum.

"That's good, baby. Now I want you to hop on that dick," you tell Karina as you release her from your grasp. She sits on your pole immediately, riding it to perfection with a fast bounce, while you reach to continue groping her milky melons. She's such a pro rider that even her bouncy bazookas don't pose a problem to her. You just let Rina take over and gleefully watch as she pleases you, sitting on your cock like no one ever could. "Fuck, you're so deep in me," she says as she keeps moving, her overexaggerated eye rolls and tongue sticking out of her mouth back in full swing as she uses your chest as a support while her tits move like a pair of pinballs.

Karina grinds on your cock as she switches to a reverse cowgirl ride. "I want to worship that cock more," she says as she turns around. She tilts her body just enough to give you a side view of her tits bouncing. "Every time I go down on that cock, it gets hotter," she says as she closes her eyes and lets your length stretch her out. "You've got such a perfect big fucking cock," she says. Her tilted ride makes your cock hit spots it couldn't before, getting you on the edge. Karina senses it and slows down so she can enjoy her extremely wet body stretched to the fullest for longer. "I want to feel that cock all the way in," she tells you as she gets back to a fast-paced ride. "I'm so fucking wet, a wet cat," she tells you as her juices start mixing with the water inside her vagina. You try to slow her down by placing your hands under her thighs, but that has no effect at all; Karina just smashes it and keeps bouncing on your cock; the extra obstacle actually makes her push harder. It turns out that cheese cat wasn't so stupid at all.

Rina flips around and washes your cock with some running water from the shower. "My juices left it quite dirty," she says as she rubs the head on her clit, before switching back to a slow cowgirl ride while you grab her ass. "You're so good to me," you tell her as you spank her butt. "Work that dick," you demand of her. "Oh yes, I'm working on it," she answers. "Keep going, keep going, work for that cum," you reply as she switches to shallow but fast bounces, leading you to quickly regret those words. "I think I'm gonna cum," you tell her the next time you open your stupid mouth.

"Then cum inside me."

These words make you go feral as you push Karina back up, pinning her against the glass and grabbing her by the waist while also licking her neck. The glass now is as foggy as ever, except for the spots where the print of her big tits and the breaths of her moaning mouth melt the steam. "You like that, stupid cheese cunt?" you ask her. "Yes. Give it to me, baby; you got such a good cock. Right there, baby, right there," she replies as she sticks her tongue out once more, now also placing her hands on the glass as you take full control of her baby-making body. "Clean that fucking glass," you tell Karina as the glass trembles while you maul her cunt, fingering it with your right hand while using your left hand to spank her tits, her whole body rubbing against the glass but especially her boobs, which now act as a sponge. "Look how well they are cleaning it," Karina flaunts as her big boobs keep pressing the glass.

Karina wipes her hands on the glass as you push her closer to you, letting her see the round prints of her tits on it. She already feels out of breath, but you make sure to make it harder for her as you choke her while shutting her mouth with sucking kisses. "Oh my God," Karina says as you free her just a little before resuming pounding her, using her tits to clean the full glass while you kiss and choke her. "Stupid tit cow," you tell her as you place your hands between her tits, who are now almost breaking the glass. You shut her mouth, making it as hard as possible on Rina. Her walls close as you do so, and her face turns red as you pound her, now letting her tits off the glass for the hardest bounce as you treat Karina like a breeding cow and say that you're ready to put a baby inside at any second.

You set her neck and mouth free, but the only thing Karina can do is pray to God. She's a devout Catholic, after all, isn't she? But the only thing she'll get today is the gift of a baby as you paint her tightening walls with your seed as soon as you free her from your grasp, kissing her as you grab her cream-filled pussy and soon-to-be-swollen tits while she makes her stupdiest ahegao yet. You did it; you managed to cum inside your favorite idol. You were enjoying this unique moment until a loud bang knocked you down.

"STUPID LITTLE SHIT. YOU'VE BEEN IN THIS SHOWER FOR 30 MINUTES. GET THE FUCK OUT", it was your mom yelling at you. As she opened the box, a flood of water came out of it, akin to the flood of sperm you had just put inside Karina.

Or had you? As you and your mom looked at the shower box, it had a sticky white substance glued to it. I wonder what that was.

#karina smut #aespa smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut

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simplyholl · 5 months

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A Night With The Winter Soldier

Summary: You’re sent to be Hydra’s test subject for a new serum.

Pairing: F. Reader x Winter Soldier Bucky

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Dark Bucky. Non con. Oral. Unprotected sex.

See My Masterlist Here

A/N: I know I don’t usually write for Bucky, but this idea has been stuck in my head for a long time. I’m just tagging my regular tag list, if you’re not into dark fics, please skip! ❤️

Fucked. That’s what you were or at least what you were going to be. You shake your head as you cover your skimpy lingerie with the matching robe your mother gave to you.

Your father is the head scientist for Hydra. He had been working on this experiment for years. He had created a serum that would cause Super Soldiers to want to reproduce. The end result would be a perfect Super Soldier baby. He finally perfected it. Who could be a better test subject than his daughter?

You begged him. You pleaded and cried. It was unfair to expect this of you. But he didn’t care how you felt. He said it was your duty to do as you were told. You didn’t want to make Hydra upset with your family, did you? You knew the horrors that awaited you if you refused. Your best friend, Lilly and her whole family disappeared three years ago when her father refused a command from Hydra. They were brutal and cruel. Sadly, you were used to it.

Hydra came first. Before yourself, before your family, your loyalty had to be unwavering. You knew it wasn’t really your father who had suggested it be you. Your mother told you it was one of the higher ups. He had seen you in your new sundress a few weeks ago and thought you would be perfect to carry the first Super Soldier baby.

It made you sick. How could they do this? You didn’t want to know what would happen if you refused. “At least, he is the strongest Super Soldier. This baby’s genes will be impeccable with the both of you for parents.” Your mother reassured you, as if it would help you feel better.

You weren’t naive. You and the baby would be monitored from the moment you got pregnant. As soon as you gave birth, the child would be ripped from your arms and watched closely. It wouldn’t really be yours.

You take the elevator to the thirteenth floor, heart racing wildly. You were scared. You had seen the Super Soldiers behind glass doors where you were protected from them. Now, you were being offered on a silver platter to the biggest baddest one, like a worm on a hook waiting for a fish to jump after them.

Two guards stand outside the door to the windowless room. Their eyes roam over your barely covered body. They smirk at you as they type in the code to let you in. “Good luck, princess. You’re going to need it.” They evilly laugh as the door opens. Slowly, you walk in, your breath catching in your throat as you hear the steel door bang tightly shut behind you.

The room is dimly lit. A leather chair in one corner, a bed pressed against the wall, there’s a table with a half worked puzzle on it. It was so dreary, your heart aches for the poor guy that called this room home. You walk over to the table, running your hand over the puzzle. That’s when you feel it. Even though you couldn’t see him, you’re not alone. He’s in here with you, hid in the dark corners somewhere. You turn around to find him staring at you.

The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, you had demanded to know his name before you did this. His dark hair hung in waves by his cheeks, his cold blue eyes focused on your body. He was beautiful. You weren’t used to seeing him without the black mask he usually wore. He was shirtless, his silver, metal arm catching your attention. You studied it. The way it looks like it was forcefully put on, the red star on his shoulder. He was always silent, brooding in the shadows. You had never been this close to him.

You reach for his face, wanting to feel him before all this started. His metal arm stops you, cold hand wrapping around your wrist. You squeak when he twists your arm behind your back, walking you toward the table.

He presses you against it, you feel his erection threatening to burst out of his black pants. One swipe of his free hand knocks the puzzle to the floor. Colorful pieces scatter all around you. He lifts you on top of the table, the cold surface making you gasp when your bare legs land on it.

Bucky holds you with his metal arm, the other one makes quick work of your flimsy robe. He grabs your breast through the thin fabric of your lingerie. You squirm under his touch as he pinches your nipple through the lace.

“You don’t know how bad I need this. Been a long time since I’ve had a pretty girl like you in my bed.” You’re shocked when he speaks to you. You had been warned that he wouldn’t talk to you at all. He takes a step back to look at you, zeroing in on your panties.

He pushes your back to the wall, commanding you to stay there. You obey, you didn’t want to upset him and make this worse for yourself. He holds your top in one hand, jerking the material. The sound of it’s ripping, startling you. He was crazy strong. The thought of being manhandled by him sounded better by the second.

Next was your panties, he stripped you of them quickly, pulling you by your legs to the edge of the table. He got on his knees before you, shoving his face to your core. He licks one fat stripe up your center, moaning as he tastes you. He swirls his tongue across your clit, you buck your hips up to get closer.

Bucky pushes you down with his metal arm, ensuring that you wouldn’t be able to move. You accept your fate, laying back as he laps at you. He fucks you with his tongue, his nose rubbing expertly against your sensitive nub. The band tightly wound in your stomach snaps as he drags his wicked tongue across your clit, sucking you between his lips. He doesn’t hold back his moans as your arousal floods his face.

When he emerges, his face is glistening because of you. He wipes it off with the back of his flesh hand. Bucky jerks you off the table, pointing to the cold, cement ground. “On your knees.” You sink down in front of him as he sheds his pants. You’re surprised he hadn’t already taken them off.

You shift on your knees, trying to get comfortable. He could at least offer you a pillow to kneel on or something. You look around, and spot the only one on his bed. You’re about to ask for it, when he pulls your hair roughly, jerking your head toward his throbbing cock. It was huge. The kind of big that would hurt. You open your mouth, trying to take all of him inside.

You choke and gag, spit dribbling down your chin onto your breasts as you struggle. He looks down at you, hand still tangled in your hair. Your jaw aches already and he’s just getting started. He thrusts his hips forward, pushing your head down simultaneously. Tears fill your eyes as he hits the back of your throat. You can’t help the sob that escapes you as he pulls out, only to forcefully push his way back in.

His thumbs follow the tears on your cheeks, your mascara pooling under your eyes making you look like a raccoon. “You look so pretty when you cry.” He coos, while looking at you adoringly. He thrusts three more times, your nails dig into his thighs, a silent plea to stop. He finally pulls out, collecting you from the floor and gently placing you on his bed.

He places one leg over his shoulder, lining himself up at your entrance. He pushes inside and it’s too much. “It’s- you’re too big.” You explain. Bucky moves your other leg, spreading you wider. “You’re gonna take all of it.” He grunts, wedging himself inside you, bottoming out with one thrust. He ignores your pained scream, leaning down to lick your fresh tears.

“So tight. So perfect. Just for me.” He praises in your ear. Finally, the pain subsides. Bucky feels incredible, his thick cock dragging against the spot that makes your head swim. A gush of arousal soaks him as he swirls his metal thumb in circles on your clit.

“Look at you, such a good girl, dripping all over my cock.” You moan, clenching around him, your long nails clawing his back, drawing blood as your second orgasm rips through you. His thrusts grow sloppy as you feel him go still inside you. His hot cum, drips down your legs as he withdraws himself from you.

Bucky swipes it with his index finger, rubbing it with his thumb. He brings it to your lips, you swirl your tongue around his long digit, loving the way he tastes. You’re caught off guard when his icy, metal hand collects as much cum as he can, stuffing it back inside you.

You twitch, trying to pull away from the cold hand on your heat. “Ah ah ah.” He scolds. He presses his cool thumb to your clit, toying with the oversensitive pearl. “You have to take every drop.” When he’s satisfied with his work, he makes you lay on your back so it doesn’t drip back out.

You close your eyes, the sweet promise of sleep taking over you. You are almost in dream land when you feel the familiar nudge of Bucky’s cock at your sore center. “What are you doing?” You ask, too tired to fight him. “I’m not finished with you yet, doll.” He smiles wickedly, snapping his hips to fill you again.